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"To quote a great hero of mine, I believe in one thing only, the power of human will"
Something strikes me as off about that quote from the dean, I'll check it later, once I get out of the blazing August sun. I’m just into my mid 30s, overweight and my skin has the sickly cast of the chronic indoorsman. I’ve just completed a, well, basically it’s a college course for adults who need to retrain and taking one was a condition of receiving my social security cheque so yes, we can add effectively unemployed to my list of skills. Scrap heap at 34. Good old Megaburgh, city of dreams, the big Durian mu home. Resignedly I drag myself onto my feet and clap along like a coked up seal. My classmates, class being a somewhat grand description for this handful of scruffy rejects, surround me applauding just as hard. I think some of them actually buy into this graduation bullshit.
The scent of cut grass is everywhere and I can feel my hayfever cranking up from irritable to screaming baby. Should have taken an antihistamine, I’ve half slept through this nonsense anyway. I throw my maroon red mortar board into the air, imitating my classmates with all the enthusiasm of a 90 year old visiting a graveyard. All the time I clutch my red ribboned diploma in my hand, barely a pass but a pass nonetheless. The dean shoos our smug valedictorian out of the way and moves to wrap up this circus, a few words about alumni clubs, ha! For this place? Seriously? A few more words about graduate assistance and post graduate training and then a hearty “good luck” and "please fuck off out of our school". The graduates take the hint and begin to break up, people take nauseating selfies, wrap arms around their friends before slowly wandering off. Some are going for celebratory drinks or meals with family. Seems like an odd thing to bring your mum to. I hang around for a few minutes hoping someone will ask for a photo with me. No such luck, I’m not exactly photogenic. Not overly likeable. Hairy palms and a desk jockey hunch are doing me no favours. I shuffle off on my own, to suffer the ignominy of a 4 hour bus ride back to Megaburgh and my grandmother’s soon to be sold basement, but tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.
I wasn't exactly a straight A student but I recall that the first thing they told us was that indiscriminate killing is the mark of an amateur. Well maybe it wasn't the first thing, the first thing was something like “toilets on the left”. Maybe it was the second, no hang on, that was “lockers require a 5 crown deposit” anyway, it doesn’t matter exactly when they told it but it was pretty early on. The third thing was definitely that amateurs go to jail. Who are they you ask (maybe you don't but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt)? Officially they are called The William Kane Polytechnic College and they pride themselves on a combination of old fashioned learning by rote and hands on practical application through labs, gyms, VR simulations and a lot of unsympathetic heavily set gentlemen with birch wood bats and a serious hardon for sadism. Even so, I doubt they would mind me breaking that rule for this clueless estate agent. Jet black hair tied up in a bun, huge spiky silver glasses on her face and the obligatory massive tits crammed into a blouse 2 sizes too small. I try to figure out which superheroine she undoubtedly is but the glasses are really fucking with my ability to place her face. She babbles on incessantly in a high pitched whine. I wanted, I specifically asked her agency to see a warehouse with easy loading access and, for bonus points, a view of the sea. I love the sea. Everybody loves the sea. The sea cuts through the middle of this city. Hell, Megaburgh’s arguably more sea than land. Huge swathes of the city are actually built on stilts or reclaimed mud. So what the hell are we doing here in hoity toity Zeppil Park? This is about as far inland as you can get while still being in actual Megaburgh. Only a heroine could be dumb enough or disinterested enough to get my needs this wrong. One, this isn't a warehouse, it's a bankrupt former supermarket. On top of that there is a primary school about 100 metres down the street and a yoga centre just around the corner. A sign proclaims that thanks to city ordinance 2112 there will be an organic farmer’s market in the car park every 2nd Tuesday. It's a 20 mph zone and there is a bridge so low on the main road that normal family cars routinely graze their roofs. There are fucking neighbourhood watch signs everywhere This is the exact opposite of what I wanted to look at!
"And as you can see there is a lot of open space, perfect for, err, what did you say your company did?" Asks the agent
"Logistics, distribution, shipping stuff" I mutter scowling at the cobwebbed corners. Urgh I’m sure there are massive spiders scuttling away, chuckling to themselves about my lack of a spine.
"I thought you said apps? Are you sure you don't make apps? You look like a computer errr guy" she machine gun rattles at me
"No, definitely logistics, I was quite clear on the phone when I spoke with your manager" I say trying to steer back.
"Well anyway I'm sure you could get tons of goods in here, there is even a backup generator and diesel storage onsite" she witters waving her hands "Oh and that wasn't my manager that was my receptionist, she's a trainee"
I check the glossy pamphlet she gave me. Generator is a block of rust almost 50 years old and the city council has ordered the diesel storage tanks condemned, to be removed and safely disposed of at property owner’s expense. I scuff my feet idly on the ancient concrete imagining how much work it would take to dig out a shark tank and then how I'd get a decent sized shark up here to sit in it.
"You know I really did want something near the harbour, I really like the sea" I mumble "Shipping is often a big part of logistics at least it always was in this city"
"Oh?" She stops glances down at her rack then back up quizzically before frowning "Why didn't you say so earlier! You've let me come all the way up here for nothing you idiot"
I can't believe it, I specifically gave her agency my preferences. I set them out twice with that person I thought was the manager but apparently was the receptionist
"Sorry" I mumble resolving not to be too distracted by her straining shirt.
I follow the agent out to her car. She's still shrieking on about how this is my fault. She seems confused that her straining tits didn’t override common sense. She’s obviously never come up against someone who went through a semester of cold hoses and electro shocks every time he glanced at a pair of udders. Shit, she probably thinks I’m into guys.
"Lucky for you there is a new place on our books, it practically just came on, bit of a fixer upper though but it's just at the edge of the old deepwater terminals"
We hop in her tiny car. She puts something whiny and awful on the radio and begins to talk like a machine gun. Her mother, her sister, her great career, her favourite wine. She shows warehouses for fuck’s sake. Its one step up from box folding! She is absolutely the kind of person who should have been drowned at birth. In acid. That was on fire.
I realise and not for the first time and with more than a little sinking dread that I used to be just the same. I only left university, the first time, the official time, about 10 years ago. I mean, I wasn’t a pair of tits on legs showing dilapidated warehouses, I was a maths and business major with a contract to work at Grub and Pousey LLP the 2nd biggest hedge fund in Megaburgh. I drove to work in a massive cherry red SUV, wore a tailored suit and carried an empty briefcase because who goes to work without a briefcase, even now when you buy lunch and the papers are on your phone. I went to terrible dinner parties, chucked car keys in a bowl, and had a blatant gold digger girlfriend. IU didn't mind the gold digging because she let me fuck her in the arse, I mean, I wasn't even into it that much but it's just what you did. I bought so much shit I didn’t need or want, porcelain bulldogs were my life. Everyone else was scum because they weren’t on six figures and actually paid their taxes. Someone should have slapped me, without me paying them to do it either.
Then the crash happened and almost overnight all the easy money dried up, my boss disappeared and it turned out my employer was just a ponzi scheme. The 9th floor that we’d all been trying to get promoted onto was just empty space. My career went straight down the drain. The whole industry contracted like a snapped rubber band and nobody could get a job. People were being turfed out of their mansions and onto the street. The girlfriend decided she liked DJs and disappeared with the silverware. I had to move back to my grandmother’s and spent my days sitting in one Oleander Tea House after another sending CV after CV knowing they were going to be rejected.
The Department of Social Security was worse than useless and took the view that the unemployed need ever more misery and hardship as incentive to get a job. The fact that jobs didn’t exist in recession dunked Megaburgh didn't seem to occur to them. Thye just stuck to their logic that was akin to withdrawing medicine to incentivise people to beat cancer. Geniuses. That's when the William Kane advert popped into my inbox. I thought it was junk or some phishing scam. I almost deleted it, but I was desperate, I’d saved nothing, Retrain they promised. Social Security skill search approved. Make money no matter if it is up or down in the economy. Learn life skills. Get a small business grant. Really it was the promise of a grant that swung it. I thought it might be a scam but what the hell was an out of work number monkey with a lust to gamble going to do for his Wednesday morning that was any better, plus, I didn’t have anything else for them to scam me out of.
I snap out of my revere as the tiny city car crunches to a halt on gravel strewn concrete. The site is huge and eerie as hell. A trio of rusting cranes stand way off to our left on the dockside looking like menacing alien robots. The main building is a huge grey brick and dark steel warehouse with sharp angles and some leering gargoyles, it must be 200 years old. It's clearly seen better days but you could hide an army in it. A couple of smaller and much newer buildings, a long canteen, a few blocky offices and covered parking spaces are scattered around the site. It’s disturbingly mournful as the wind howls across the acres of empty cobbles in front of the cranes. A salt tang is on the air and the gothic architecture and winking lights of the Van Achton bridge loom out of the gloom downriver like a sea monster. I wonder why this place fell into disrepair. Overcapacity? Better access on the west side of the inlet? Too pricey to renovate? Who knows. A surprisingly new chain link fence topped with vicious razor wire runs along the 3 land sides of the site. The wire is more than a necessity in this part of Megaburgh, the whole town is drowning in unemployment and decrepitude but the north east, Konigshavn, is a virtual no go area for the police, never mind the ordinary people of the city. Bonus points.
The agent glances around nervously as she shows me to a side door of the huge warehouse. Some scruffy youths are lingering on a street corner and eyeing her car. A set of 6 shuttered vehicle entrances are next to the small side door. I chuckle at the inventive graffiti and despair at the lack of proper grammar. I glance up to the 2 stories of windows that make up the top third of the building. Over half are missing glass and seriously unimpressed crows glare down at me. Those squatting winged rats don’t realise that their days are numbered. We walk into the cavernous space and I realise it's not a warehouse it's some sort of drydock. The U shaped floor borders a huge pit in the centre of the space. I can barely see the end where the huge double doors at the end of the dock keep the freezing sea of the inlet out. So much potential. I almost trip over a huge length of anchor chain. Rust is everywhere. Birds are fluttering around the dank rafters. Used syringes and broken glass glint in a corner. The place stinks of damp and piss. The agent is wittering again, making out that this is some sort of lost palace.
"It's a bit of a mess" I mumble, kicking my mind for my rusty negotiation skills "And this area is depression central, it'll cost a fortune in security guards"
"Well, I did say it is a bit of a fixer upper, but the area is improving and the potential to turn this space into new flats and commercial units is incredible. I think this is the biggest brown field in Megaburgh, plus the Van Achton Bridge is right there and the heart of the city is only 20 minutes by tram" she says
"Assuming residents or employees are happy to be routinely stabbed" I counter, finding a bit of a rhythm "I'm really not sure, 3 million is a lot for this area, even for such a big plot of land, especially for so much land, I'll need tons of security guards. Maybe I need to rethink this whole venture, I need to get value for money on my inheritance"
Her eyes light up at inheritance. She doesn't need to know it's a grant from a dubious fund that backs a private University giving lessons in criminal activity. She's thinking that I can put up the cash without a bank talking me out of the insanity of trying to buy this place.
"Well of course, everything in this business is negotiable and the site last changed hands before the crash, I think we can totally do a deal and the seller will see the commercial reality" she says hungrily
I mentally high five myself at the meagre results of my assertiveness.
"1.5 million, it'll take 500K just to get this place swept" I say
"Not a chance" she replies "2.75 is more than reasonable"
I groan inside, she wants to haggle "look 2 is more than this place is worth"
She grins in triumph "2.5"
"2" I say shuddering at the ugly dance.
"I might be able to get the seller to 2.3 but I doubt it" she says less eagerly
"You misunderstand me" I say digging in "2 is my offer, if they don't want it I'm going to look elsewhere. Take it or leave it"
She's not smiling now. I'm screaming in my head. I need this place, It’s my dream HQ. 2 million for all this is a bargain. I can feel sweat prickling along my head and my cheeks flushing. I turn away to hide it. She thinks I'm going for the door.
"Wait! I'll call them" she says sourly
I nearly choke on my nervousness.
"Hello, yes can I speak to Justin" she says into her cell
I know 2 Justins. One has a double barrelled surname. The world would be a significantly better place without them. Horse humping thunder cunts the pair of them. They are however money grabbing bastards who value cash over everything else. I pray for this one to be the same and to take the deal.
"Hey sugar guns still bossing the dollah train?" she coos into the phone, pauses then giggles hideously "No you silly man, no, you're terrible. Yeah? Well I might be persuaded" she makes a hand job signal with her hand and rolls her eyes at me "Business I'm afraid, that toxic wreck at the east docks, yeah, yeah that's the one, no, no meth den this week, no not that either and anyway nobody proved they were mutos but, no, no it's an offer, yeah and actual offer, they were giving 30% I talked them up to 60 but they won't go higher, yeah, ha! Yeah of course I flashed my girls, total sausage muncher, silent farts, what? exactly? 2 mil, no, some guy with inheritance, yeah that's right cash in hand, really? Ok let me see if I can get them"
She clicks off the call and turns back to look at me "He'll take it"
******
The huge sign on the dry-dock says "Globo Dynamics LLC". It was the third return on a random name generator. They tell you to call your front something mundane, White Horse or Big Blue or just 3 random letters, JCN PLC was the example the lecturer used. Calling your front Overlord Industries is tantamount to putting a neon sign with “come get me” out front. It's a big temptation but I’m new to this so I’ll do it by the book. I watch the painters slapping midnight blue weather shield paint on the metal work of the drydock, my drydock I correct myself.
A glint catches my eye and I see an indistinct gold or white or maybe blue shape flit across the sky at the speed of a reckless fighter jet. Megaburgh is a graveyard for supposed super villains and kingpins. Disorganised, petty crime is rife well, so long as your idea of petty crime is the poors killing each other for a syringe of mostly dirty water or blasting holy fuck out of a family store. Scratch a limo or knock over a multinational restaurant chain and before you can blink you’ll be up to your neck in lycra, stupid poses and, for reasons nobody can explain, almost certainly a bucket of toxic estrogen.
You think I’m mad starting a villain career here right? Thing is this city, the whole damn country is circling the drain. There's lots of talk about rising living standards and sharing the prosperity but Megaburgh's like a vampire it drains everyone and everything around it of life to keep itself looking young and vibrant. Wide eyed kids arrive here and it mashes them in the gears of its status quo then squirts them out the other end. Anyone who tries to change things or rebalance the systems runs in the self appointed guardians of the status quo. The super community, basically thugs keeping the rich and powerful safe. In exchange their masters shower the stupid super teams with cash, media fluff pieces and immunity from reality.
"Is that Devine Dutchess? Can we get a shot? No? Too far out, damn. So Mr Lowendachs you're bringing jobs to a horribly deprived area of Megaburgh" says the reporter in front of me, her photographer keeps looking around at the tenements on the other side of the shiny fence. The poor guy is convinced he's going to be stabbed for his camera out here. I imagine the glittering eyes of junkies and gangbangers watching from the dark windows and shattered doors. My meagre security has already dumped about 20 scrawny bodies in the sea to be nommed by Megaburgh’s notorious Arctic sharks. I pause as a van splutters out of the drydock's vehicle entrance. It seems a bit pitiful against the scale of the huge building to have the small vehicle taking the meagre goods we've so far managed to store but everyone has to start somewhere.
"I want to can give something back" I say after a moment "Megaburgh has been good to me, but the city's suffering. People less fortunate than me have been enduring very hard times. So I purchased this warehouse to bring some jobs to the city. This is just the first step, I hope to expand Globo Dynamics soon and help more people work their way back to prosperity. You see, I have a dream of a better Megaburgh. A Megaburgh whose citizens feel safe, who feel pride. I know that there are those who want Megaburgh to stay exactly as it is, mired in poverty and crime. We can no longer leave this to the superhero community alone. We must do this together. We must resist those who want us to live in fear. My name is Kaiser Lowendachs and I want to make this city a better place as soon as possible."
"Very noble Mr Lowendachs" says the reporter scribbling furtively "how soon is soon?"
"What? Err, well, I don't want to overextend myself but I have set some ambitious goals I say caught a little off guard, reporters these days aren't known for calling people on their bullshit “Maybe I’ll try my hand at running a paper”
She glances up and I wink. Like a fucking idiot.
The blaring horn of a 12 wheeler truck saves me and makes the reporter jump.
"Ah, I'm sorry I need to deal with this delivery, so much to do to get the business going, would you mind putting something in the paper about the red tape in Megaburgh choking small business?" I laugh
The reporter grins "Sure, that always plays well with the shareholders and the grey readers love that overbearing government shit"
The report and the photographer glance around nervously. I lean forward and quietly mutter "Ignore your sat nav, take a left at the gate and follow the road straight down, it's got no traffic lights on it so not much chance of you getting jacked, it'll add 15 minutes to your drive. You'll hit an on ramp for the bridge and be back on the west side before you know it"
The reporter glances at me then nods gratefully. The pair walk back to the car and hop in. It screeches out of the gate swinging hard left and tears down the street. I step aside and the 12 wheeler rolls forward as a corrugated vehicle door rolls up. I follow it into my warehouse, my lair. The cobwebs and evidence of previous inhabitants are gone. Shiny, brushed steel and aluminium covers the place. Half the dry-dock is plated over and the other is full of briny sea water, the perfect logistics hub. One of the two gantry cranes trundles the length of the huge space and stops over the truck. My workers start hauling off the tarpaulin. The boxes inside the nondescript crates are stamped with "Byzantium" under the purple square and gold B emblem.
Byzantium is my sponsor. They have a share in the William Kane college and it's them, or one of the handful of other multinational criminal enterprises that provide you the grant. The downside? They basically own you and your grand criminal enterprise where you work for yourself is actually like another job where you're keeping a boss happy. Expect if this boss fires you it's out of a cannon. Smart guy that I am they're already pissed with me for setting up in Megaburgh. Like I said none of the big boys play here. I'm probably booked as a loss already on some spreadsheet in Kalcedon.
I leave them to unload the goodies and walk across to the freshly renovated lift. It takes me up out of the warehouse floor, I pass the 1st floor, sparsely inhabited by a few cubicles with accountants and planners. It was a revelation at William Kane that you need accountants, I thought they were joking but 3 weeks in and I realise this career is going to take some serious money shuffling. Plus, your backers want to see your books and check up on what you're doing with their money. I'm already terrified by the amount of grant I've burned through getting set up. The lift stops at the top floor, my floor. I exit the lift, on the right is a corridor two meeting rooms lead off it and my private rooms, nothing glamorous, a small bedroom, bathroom and kitchen. I'll have a home cinema when I get a penthouse, something to aim for, must remember to write it in my "goals" journal.
Neuro is waiting for me. Apparently he was a normal university professor – until he cracked a seemingly impossible mathematical conundrum, it's so far above me I'm embarrassed. Cracking it unlocked some strange and bizarre abilities, par for the course in this city. He's a perfect human Lie-Detector he can instantly tell whether someone is telling the truth or lying. A complete lack of morality compliments his unstoppable brain. He's been turned down for more jobs than I have. Goes to show that in this town it's not what you know it's what you can prove. His certificates say he’s little more than a grade school teacher so he dipped into the darkweb and uploaded his CV to Villains4hire. There's probably a moral in there somewhere.
He walks with me to the meeting room. Boojum is waiting outside. The guy looks like someone shaved a gorilla and wrapped it in grey wool. I hired him because I was afraid of what he would do if I didn't. Another guy with the special skills I can use but no diploma to get him in the door of a normal job. Paper runs this city and if you don't have it then you're scrapped and condemned to poverty. No wonder Megaburgh is such a mess.
"So how are we doing" I say
Boojum stares at me. I'm not sure if he has nothing to say or he's waiting for a neuron to fire.
"You have burned through half your cash. You need to start bringing in money" says Neuro
"I was just thinking the same thing" I say "So what do you guys think about a bank heist?"
They stare at me blankly, Boojum does it because it's his default expression.
Neuro sighs "Mr Lowendachs" he starts
"Come on guys we talked about this, when it's just us you can call me Kaiser" I say
He looks at me like I just spat in his face "Mr Lowendachs" he says pointedly "You need to cultivate an air of authority and that will not work if your underlings, no matter how valued, are your friends"
"Oh, but guys you know, you're like my inner circle" I say realising I sound like a little kid
"It has to be this way Mr Lowendachs if the organisation is to prosper" he says
"You think he's right Boojum?" I say
"Mr Neuro is very clever Mr Lowendachs" rumbles Boojum, I wonder if he puts on the slow thing as an act, he might be more dangerous than Neuro.
"Alright then, so, you were saying Neuro" I say
"A bank heist is too risky you've only got a couple of desperate security guards a couple of accountants, the intern billy, Boojum and me" he says "Therefore I suggest we sell milkshakes"
I cough in disbelief "Sorry Neuro, I thought you said we'll sell milkshakes"
"Yes, I have already obtained a recipe from Byzantium for highly addictive milkshakes. I suggest that we set up a subsidiary, Globo Dynamics Wellness LLC to sell these shakes" he says smugly
"Wait, we've just set up a company and you want to start the whole thing again?" I say
"We have kitchen facilities here, enough to churn out a few hundred shakes a day. We will give away some freebies to the gangers and junkies lurking around the site and once they're hooked we'll put them to work on a sort of door to door sales thing, a sort of mass marketing operation though family, friends and neighbours, except their customers will become mildly addicted to our quote “healthy” milkshakes. Once this network is established and we have a cash flow we can think about using that network to move some harder things" he says, clearly he's given this all of 5 minute's thought.
"It's not the most glamorous pursuit for what is supposed to be a villainous empire" I mutter "Are people really going to shell out for milkshakes?"
"Megaburgh is the most overweight city in the country. Most of its citizens can't afford a gym and eat junk food. All those useless chunks are crying out for a diet shake that they can afford and that they can tell themselves is doing them good. Which in a way it will be doing since they'll be eating nothing but this and it's mostly just flavoured water" says Neuro
"Well, it's not how I envisaged starting my empire" I mumble
"The old Empire was built on opium and that made more than a few crowns” he counters
“Opium is a bit different to health shakes” I mumble
“Not our health shakes” he replies
******
The advert is terrible. It’s everything I hate. Oddly this gives me a thrill because it feels more like we’re getting into our criminal niche. A suburban mom bemoans her children’s health from sugary breakfasts. A clip of hideously blackened teeth and the wheezing testimony of a diabetes sufferer add to the horror. A bespectacled brunette pops up at the end wearing a lab coat, extolling the virtues of Globo Dynamics health shakes and promising that even fussy arsehole kids will love them. Of course they will. They’ll get the shakes (ha!) if they stop drinking them.
The accounts team are the stars of this show and are doing a great job with this. Most have got their wives or girlfriends, in some cases both, shovelling this shit into everyone in Konigshavn and the network is spreading into Fishguard and Sonderfeld. The local gangers have no idea we’re peddling crack to their customers right under their noses. The city doesn’t care, in fact the local rags are praising the “micro business initiatives” of Globo Dynamics and talking about a battle of the bulge. I even saw some pandering bullshit trying to link this to some inherent capitalist trait of the god fearing stoic westlanders. The papers will say anything to cling onto their decreasing readers.
“There she is again” says Neuro
I almost jump out of my skin. He’s like a ghost and I think he does this just to fuck with me. I regain my composure.
“Really, I hadn’t noticed” I lie “her sudden interest in Konigshavn has been a boon, she’s done our work for us going after the local gang chiefs and leaving their thugs out of work. I presume she’s investigating us?”
“I doubt she’s the only one. We’ve come from nowhere and we’re giving opportunity to the bottom end of the working class. Those types hate any break in the status quo. They’re all about being applauded by grateful bankers” he says.
The red white and blue clad figure drops out of view behind a rotting tenement. Megaburgh. is lousy with superheroes. Conservative wackos who all hate progress and hanker for some imagined good old days where everyone knew their place and lived on their knees and ate apple pie instead of industrial grade, faintly glowing horribly addictive health shakes.
“We’re gonna need bigger guns” I murmur “In fact, we’re going to need a whole research division to deal with the likes of her super-fast, bullet proof but ultimately shapely ass”
“Well, one step at a time” says Neuro
We turn away from the little balcony that looks out onto the mess of Megaburgh’s north eastern sprawl. They say that eleven million people live in the city but that includes the dozens of little towns and villages that border it. Empty for the week as their residents are pulled into the monster for what little work it will give them. I’m doing this place a favour. The milkshake dispensary we set up on the edge of the property is going gang busters. I don't notice the lithe shadow flit along the edge of the tenement across the road that runs in front of the drydock. Neuro does.
"You didn't see her did you" he says as we return to the meeting room, Boojum is sitting in his usual seat drawing his thick fingers on the desk.
"Of course I saw her, she's flitting about the sky for everyone to see" I reply
"Not her" says Neuro "The Cat"
"Catgirl? Here?" I ask
"She was watching us from across the road, honestly Mr Lowendachs you are going to have to get much more observant" he admonishes.
"Great, barely a month into this business and I've got a super powered alien hovering over me day and night and a psychotic vigilante stalking me" I say
"Cats smell" rumbles Boojum
"With their noses" I say offhandedly
Neuro gives me an unimpressed look. I stare out of the window searching for the notorious black shadow. I glance down at the dispensary.
"Neuro, could we make a batch of shakes that are more addictive, like painfully addictive?" I say quietly
"In theory yes" he says
"And do you think you could get your hands on a big batch of Klorophytum?" I say as the plan forms in my head
Neruo looks at me for a long moment then arches an eyebrow "Really?"
I nod once
"Of course" he says
******
4 nights I've been sitting here in this meeting room with every light on, pretending to do work. 2 days ago we put a flip chart with "Nefarious Scheme" written on it in big red letters. 1 day ago we added a picture of a school. Fucking Neruo. Catgirl isn't caging this place. If she thought she had anything she'd have raided this place by now. Unless she already did. Fuck! They warn you about this in the mental conditioning module. They tell you not to second guess yourself and start jumping at shadows. I breath deep and keep scratching my pen almost meaninglessly across sales reports and drawings of a lab that is apparently going to go on a river barge to be moored behind the dock. The theory is that it can then be moved off if anyone shows too much interest in Globo Dynamics.
"You work late a lot" says a voice like honey
I don't know how I manage to stop myself jumping out of my chair. Instead I hold up a single finger and keep scribbling. I reach the end of the line then put my pen down. I glance up. She's perched on the edge of my desk with her fucking legs crossed. Hands hugging her knee. A black body suit covers her from neck to calf. Purple boots, almost knee high take over from there down. The flanks of her suit are a deep, rich purple contrasting with the front of the suit. A black utility belt is fitted snugly around her waist. A cowl covers her head, tiny ears in imitation of a cat decorate the top. Her green eyes stare mischievously out of the eye holes. Her blood red lips are twisted in an infuriating smirk.
"We don't actually use milk in our milkshakes" I say "Don’t tell anyone but it's actually a potato substitute"
She looks at me. I think she's cocking an eyebrow but doesn't realise I can't see it for the cowl "I prefer cream anyway" she says grinning.
"We probably have some in the coffee machine" I say "I can have some brought up"
"Along with gun wielding thugs I presume" she says looking at her nails, or at least she would be if she wasn't wearing purple elbow length gloves. I wonder if she has taken too many knocks to the head.
"Well, if I get a security guard to bring it up he'll probably have a pistol but I don't see why he would need to draw it, unless? Are you here to rob me?" I ask in faux surprise slapping my hands to my cheeks.
"No Mr Lowendachs, I'm not here to rob you" she says springing off the desk and turning to face me "I'm hear to ask you a few questions"
"What could you possibly want to ask me?" I say
"Well for one, why is there a great big flip chart with Nefarious Scheme written on it and a picture of a school?" She says as if she was asking about the weather.
"Ah" I say "Then this makes a lot more sense. I'm afraid my finance team have a bit of a dark sense of humor. This is quite simple really, we were brain storming how to get a contract to supply milkshakes to Megaburgh's schools. Did you know that in some of the poorest areas of the city we are seeing cases of rickets reappearing?"
"Fascinating" she says brushing off the plight of the city's youth "And do you mind me asking how you got all the cash to set this operation up? My investigations show you were a failed hedge fund associate until a few months ago, verging on bankruptcy and then suddenly you are splashing millions on this property and your business ventures"
She's still smiling but the warmth is gone. She looks amazing. The suit hugs her like it's painted on. I'm sure there is a hint of a camel toe but I force myself to keep looking into her eyes.
"Inheritance, sadly" I say "My Grandmother was very old when she passed and had been paying into what she thought was insurance for almost 80 years. It turns out it was actually a fund"
It's stupid. The lie won't stand up to a decent investigation and Catgirl is nothing if not the consummate detective.
"Really? I'm sorry" she says
She doesn’t believe a word. I'm sure.
"Your milkshake business" she says "It's not the obvious choice for someone who has just bought a dry dock and turned it into a logistics hub. Even more surprising your sales seem to be growing exponentially"
"Actually one of my workers made a comment that we could make shakes in the big kitchen we have here. He said his sister used to sell them door to door for some foreign company before they were shut down. I put him in charge of it and it just seems to have taken off" I say "I was aching for some cash flow after setting up and it seemed like a quick win"
"I see" She says not buying a word, oddly this one is pretty much the truth "And would you mind showing me your kitchen where you make these shakes?"
She flicks out a whip as I stand up. Interesting. I'm not the only who is freaking the fuck out on the inside.
"Of course not" I say glaring at the whip.
I walk to the door and pull it open. Holding it for her. She hesitates for the briefest moment before stepping through. The hessian bag is over her head before she can even yelp. Boojum yanks it all the way to her knees and vices his arms around her. She kicks from the knees and thrashes like a fish but she's got no chance against this man mountain. Not wrapped up in hessian like this. Of course, it's not just hessian. The thing has been so soaked in ether than we'll be lucky if she wakes up in time for christmas. Her thrashing grows weaker. Boojum looks at me. I shake my head. He keeps his grip as she goes limp. He looks again. I give it a few minutes then nod. He whips the bag off her. She's out. Her breathing is shallow and there is some foam around the corner of her mouth.
Boojum pulls nylon rope and ties her hands behind her back. He ties her ankles, the bright white rope contrasting with the dark colours of her costume. He loops the ankles and wrists together making sure she can't pull them around in front of her. A gag is wrapped across her mouth. I give him the thumbs up and he hoists her up like she weighs nothing. He trundles down the corridor past the lift and the 2 other meeting rooms and enters my rooms. I hear a flop like a sack of potatoes.
"Did you throw her on the floor?" I ask as he comes lumbering back
He looks at me with a hurt expression "You said to put her on the bed so I put her on the bed"
"Sorry Boojum, of course you did, I'm just tired" I say before I realise that I've just given my bed away. I glance behind me at the meeting room chair and swear. Guess I'm sleeping here.
Villainy 101
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DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
The sarcastic commentary and pointed, detailed descriptions are fantastic. I'm enjoying this and look forward to where this is going. Fun style!
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lionbadger
- Legendary Member
- Posts: 786
- Joined: 12 years ago
Well, no preassure there then!
Obliged chaps, will try to post updates on Sundays
Obliged chaps, will try to post updates on Sundays
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lionbadger
- Legendary Member
- Posts: 786
- Joined: 12 years ago
2
"Of course I'm cranky" I yell at Neuro "There's been an overindulged, manhating, psycho vigilante tied up on my bed for the last 20 hours. The only sleep I've had is in this thing"
I wave at my chair at the end of the big meeting table. My neck aches and my head hurts. I'm too fucking old for all nighter bullshit. I’m not a teenager anymore, hell, I’m not even in my twenties!
"It's a good plan" says Neuro "You just need to, you know, finish her off"
Finish her off sounds so grubby.
"Yes, excellent idea Neuro, in my exhausted state I can just go and take down Catgirl, there's no way she's going to take a shake off of me" I rant "I should have just got Boojum to strangle her”
"That would be far too much heat for us" says Neuro quickly "Dead superheros attract a lot of attention. Your plan is good, I'm sure it will work, you just need to get on with it"
I sigh and turn to stare out of the window. What the fuck am I doing. This has gotten way too real way too fast. I stare at the fledgling milkshake dispensary, how the hell did I even get into making milkshakes? Do these even qualify as evil milkshakes? Logistics and drug smuggling seemed like a sure thing, simple things to build the business on top of, not this mildly addictive health food shit. As I stare glumly out of the window wondering if my criminal career is going to be stillborn I finally register what my brain has been shouting at me. I push open the window.
"Hey! Hey! Err, you there!" I yell at one of the minions, I’ve given up calling them sales representatives, he looks like he's just found a red dot on his chest "Yes you! Is that your girlfriend? Yes the one in the waitress outfit! Yes the fucking woman you moron! For fuck’s sake man think quicker! In fact, just get up here, bring her with you, I need to talk to you both"
They look like they are going to bolt but the moment passes and they turn and walk solemnly into the building. I turn to explain the brainwave to Neuro but stop, he’s right, my underlings don’t need explanations. Plus, he gives a nod that infuriates me. He's already figured out my plan.
Boojum opens the door to the meeting room and in slouches the wide-eyed minion. The thin girlfriend follows hugging herself and rubbing her arms. Her crumpled waitress uniform is from some fast food hell hole that I can’t place. She wants our shakes. Maybe they're not so mildly addictive after all.
“Sorry I didn’t catch your name” I say catching the glare from Neuro for apologising.
“Err, Josh, Josh Verstad” he says. Boojum sneezes and Josh looks like he’s shit his pants “Mr Lowendachs” he hurriedly adds.
“And this rare flower?” I ask
He stares at me as if his dog has sat up and started discussing quantum physics then his eyes swivel to the girlfriend and a couple of neurons fire.
“Oh, Ronnie, err Veronica” he says his brows furrowing “Yeah, Veronica”
Fuck me Megaburgh’s schools have a lot to answer for. Maybe we should open some, there’s probably at least a charity tax scam in there somewhere. We could indoctrinate orphans or something. I file the idea, Neuro will probably talk me out of it. I turn to the waitress.
“Veronica, I need a waitress for a few hours, can you help me out?” I say to the increasingly fidgety woman.
“It'll cost you” she drawls back at me. She needs a good meal and is scratching at herself but her eyes gleam with an animal cunning.
“200 crowns and a crate of shakes?” I say
Her eyes brighten. Her hands come up and she starts pulling the zipper down on her uniform. It takes a moment for me to realise what she is doing.
“No, not that” I bluster suddenly embarrassed, some villain I am. I sigh “So, you’ve probably heard of Catgirl”
******
To say that Catgirl is not happy would be something of an understatement. She’s been struggling on that bed for hours trying to get out of the ropes. I watch the monitor as Veronica walks into the room.
“Ooh, you’re really Catgirl” she drawls in that awful east country accent “Here you go cutie”
She pulls down the gag. Catgirl actually hisses. Wow, hell of a commitment to staying in character.
“Don't be like that, just between us girls the boss is in a bit of a panic. He’s new to this business and he doesn’t know what to do. But while he’s making up his mind I thought you could use a drink, you must be pretty dehydrated” says Veronica innocently
“How do I know that shit’s not poisoned” says Catgirl
Veronica rolls her eyes and lifts the shake to her lips. She takes a far more generous pull on it than she should but then she’s already addicted to them. She licks her lips then hesitates for a second and bless her she murmurs “That's so good”
I almost feel sorry for the hero as she cracks under the thirst and gulps down the shake. Veronica is drawing a hand down her own chest. I wonder idly how much Klorophytum Neuro has used. Veronica pulls the empty shake away. She up ends it and tries to eek out a few last drops. She puts the shake on the side and looks at Catgirl.
"You know cutie, you’re kinda hot" says Veronica
Catgirl has stopped struggling against the cords. I watch her. She knows something isn't right, her eyes flutter.
Veronica couldn’t care less. She runs her hand over the heroine's chest. Catgirl lets her. Well, when I say "lets" I mean she doesn’t react much. She can’t very well not let her when she’s hogtied.
"Nice rack you got there cutie" says Veronica
"What was in that shake?" Catgirl asks
"Nothing, I drank it too, it’s just a sweet ass strawberry shake" replies Veronica "They’re health shakes so good for the waist too. Maybe you're still dehydrated? Hang on, let me see if I can grab a couple more. Oooh! We can have a slumber party! I’ll braid your hair!"
Veronica turns towards the door. She missed the confused look on Catgirl's face. Veronica is rapidly ascending in my estimations. She might be promotable. Which means I need to come up with a rank between trusted lieutenant and minion. I also need to get her some elocution lessons. Bugger me there’s so much bureaucracy in this job, she'll probably want a pension too!
Veronica totters back into view somehow carrying 5 tainted milkshakes. I realise she’s fully intending to drink at least 2 of the things.
“This is recording right?” I say without taking my eyes off the screen.
“Of course says Neuro” his eyes also glued to the screen
“Hey Josh do you mind running out to get some popcorn or nachos or something” I say handing twenty crowns to Veronica’s gawping boyfriend
He looks at me with the default clueless expression. Boojum coughs and he jumps.
“Sure, sure thing Mr Lowendachs” he gibbers looking longingly at the screen “I'll be quick”
We turn back. Veroinca has milkshake all around her mouth. She’s holding a vanilla to Catgirl’s mouth. The hero is gulping it down. Veronica leans down and licks the dribbles of shake from Catgirl’s face. To my surprise Catgirl’s tongue darts out and across Veronica’s lips. The two girls share a passionate kiss made all the hotter by Catgirl’s restraints. Veronica reaches up and pulls away Catgirl’s cowl. A mane of luxurious auburn hair spills out across the bed. She looks really young with her twinkling eyes staring up at Veronica. Veronica strokes her face, the long red nails contrast with Catgirl’s porcelain skin. I guess she doesn't get much sun wearing that suit all the time.
“I have no idea who that is” I say to Boojum “I thought these heros were always socialites or weather girls or philanthropists or something”
“I dunno Mr Lowendachs” rumbles Boojum dutifully
“That’s Mandy Cayne, the heiress” says Neuro “But she’s not been seen in Megaburgh for at least 5 years. Other than as Catgirl. That's quite clever actually”
“Mandy who? How the hell do you know that?” I ask
Neuro actually looks a little sheepish “I read gossip magazines, don’t judge me! Everyone has a right to a guilty pleasure”
I stare at him mouth open. An image of Neuro obsessing over his star sign or what type of crystal is right from him fills my mind. It’s too much to process right now. I look back at the monitor.
Veronica straightens up “Ok cutie, that should keep you going for a bit” she says as she turns to leave. She looks right at the camera and winks as she steps towards the door. Definitely promotable.
“Wait” gasps Catgirl her breathing heavy, I think she’s grinding against her bonds “Just one more sip?”
Gotcha
“I don’t know cutie” says Veronica turning back towards the bed “You shouldn’t drink too many of these, there are a lot of vitamins and proteins and wellness stuff in them”
“GIVE ME THE FUCKING SHAKE YOU SKANK WHORE BITCH” Screams Catgirl
Veronica cocks an eyebrow and stares at her.
“I got your popcor...” comes a voice behind me followed swiftly by the sound of a skull smacking brickwork
“Thank you Boojum” I murmur. "I guess that answers the 'what do we do about Josh the witness' question"
“Please give me just a little more shake?” mewls Catgirl “Please?”
Veronica glances at the door “I don’t know I get off now and I’ve been looking forward to seeing my boyfriend, we’re gonna rattle the old headboard know what I mean” she drawls
“I can fuck you” says Catgirl “I’ll fuck you better than any man ever could! Just let me have some more!”
Veronica walks back towards the bed. She pulls her dirty blonde hair out of its scrunchie letting it fall free. As she shuffles onto the bed she pulls down the zipper on her waitress uniform just enough to show the black bra containing her plump breasts. Sometimes I wonder if there is already something in the water in Megaburgh.
“This really escalated fast” I whisper to Neuro
He nods.
Veronica reaches over to a half empty vanilla shake, dips her thin fingers into it then brushes it across her lips. Catgirl jerks forwards. Veronica dips her head and they share another passionate kiss. Veronica breaks it and pulls the zipper down further. She pulls her waitress uniform open and pops her tits out of her bra. Again she dips her fingers in the vanilla slurry then drizzles it across her hard nipple. She leans forward and Catgirl latches onto the breast greedily.
“There’s a good kitty” whispers Veronica
She reaches out her hand, sliding it across Catgirl’s suit until she reaches the crotch. She digs her fingers roughly into the grinding mound. Catgirl, the terrifying virtuous vigilante Catgirl, moans like a street walker. Her crotch pushes against Veronica’s hand. The white nylon ropes cutting across her suit and binding her tight leave nothing to the imagination. Veronica strums the hero like a harp. She reaches into the shake and dribbles it down her breast into the sucking mouth of catgirl. The girl snaps away and squeals a shrill cry, her body jerking stiff as she cums.
She slumps away gasping. Veronica’s hand whips out and slaps her hard. Catgirl’s squeal is abruptly cut off as her face is rammed into the shake covered breast again. She resists briefly but is soon sucking down more shake.
I muttered something about needing a shower. It drew a quickly supressed smirk from Neruo. I didn’t care and headed off to my bathroom. I treated myself to 20 minutes of delightful alone time, the image of the two women fresh in my mind. I took my time drying off and getting redressed. I also grabbed a snack and some tea before heading back to the office to get a debrief. Almost an hour had passed. Veronica and Catgirl were still at it.
At some point Catgirl’s restraints had come off and her costume was open from throat to crotch. A pair of small perky breasts poked out of the dark material. Veronica lay on the bed with her legs dangling over the edge Catgirl dutifully lapping at her wet snatch.
“They’re still at it?” I asked as I walked back into the office Veronica’s shrieked orgasms echoed in the background
“I think she’s about to deliver the coup de grace” said Neuro “I think she’s a keeper”
Catgirl had slumped to the floor, her breathing heavy as Veronica pulled her knickers back into place and rezipped her uniform. She stood up and swept back her hair before stepping towards the door.
“wait…” mewled Catgirl
“What? I can’t stay here playing with you all day cutie, I have places to be” said Veronica
Catgirl rubbed her arms “Can you get me just one more shake?”
“Oh, sorry cutie, they’re an employee perk and I think they’re probably going to send you home” said Veronica
“I just want one more” whispered Catgirl hugging herself and rubbing her arms “I can still make you come”
“Well, I guess just one more could hurt” Veronica hesitates mid-sentence “But only if you crawl to me”
Catgirl looks like she’s going to protest or refuse. Instead she drops onto her hands and knees and slinks across the floor to rub against Veronica’s legs. Veronica reaches down and grabs a handful of hair. She pulls it dragging Catgirl to her feet.
“Lose the slut package” she snaps at Catgirl
The hero looks confused for a moment then shrugs her shoulders out of her suit.
“Good Kitty” says Veronica planting a quick kiss on Catgirl’s lips.
She spins the heroine around and bends her over the bed.
“Do you want me to fuck you Kitty?” she asks sliding down Catgirl’s leg and drawing her hand over the girl’s well groomed snatch.
Catgirl shudders and whispers something.
Veronica slaps her hand hard across the hero’s pale cheek leaving a red hand print “I didn’t catch that?” she says
“YES! FUCK ME” yells Catgirl
Veronica produces a strap on dildo. The thing looks huge and is covered in knobbles, it might actually be some sort of repurposed food mixer.
“Where did she get that?” I ask Neuro
“Kirkland Marital Aids, you have to order online” says Neuro without thinking
I look at him “We really need to talk after this” I say
I turn back to the screen. Veronica is rubbing the vicious member against Catgirl’s dribbling lips. Catgirl is already red faced and panting. Without warning Veronica rams the full length into the girl. She yelps in either surprise or pain I can’t tell. Our waitress cackles maniacally as she pumps her hips back and forth. I cringe at her technique but can’t drag my eyes away.
Veronica leans down to whisper to the whimpering hero “You like this don’t you? I can tell. I feel you pushing against me”
“Yes” whispers Catgirl
“You’re a good kitty aren’t you, good kitties get shakes” says Veronica as she rams with extra force into Catgirl “Maybe if you stayed here with me you could have some more”
“I, but, I” murmurs Catgirl
“As my pet” says Veronica “You’d like that wouldn’t you, to be my pet, all the shake you can lap up and for me to play with you, to play with your little aching snatch” she reaches under the red faced hero to stroke her clit.
Catgirl gasps, it’s terrifying and mesmerising to watch someone’s mind crumble “I, I, it does, if I stay with you will you fuck me some more? And I can have some shakes?” asked Catgirl
“Of course you can kitty, I’ll smooth it over with the boss” she says as she pulls back. She reaches out to take one of Catgirl’s legs and levers her onto her back.
I notice that her nipples are dark and hard, a deep red blush extends from her cheeks well into her shallow cleavage. She moans surprisingly deeply as Veronica increases the speed of her thrusts.
“Just one last thing” says Veronica “Come for me, I want to feel you from the inside as you come”
She leans forward and pinches a nipple. She continues descending on the quivering former supergirl until their lips lock. Catgirl judders, her legs lock and she releases a wail like a banshee escaping from hell. She seems to shake for a long time until finally she stills and Veronica straightens up. The former waitress pulls out of the hero and unbuckles her strapon. She moves towards the door and opens a small box “Of course you’ll need some new clothes” she says
Catgirl gurgles quietly from the bed.
“But for just now you can wear this” says Veronica as she holds up a black bra and knickers in one hand and a collar adorned with a silver chain in the other “Can’t have a pet without a leash, you’ll be my little sexy kitty”
I watch incredulous as Catgirl puts on the bra and knickers then lets Veronica collar her. She stands looking at Veronica who delivers a harsh glare until she gets the message and drops onto her hands and knees.
“Good kitty” says Veronica “Now, let’s go get you some cream”
****
“Is? Is she safe” I say
Veronica looks at the broken Catgirl standing behind her chair staring blankly into space.
“Kitty! Attack!” she yelps pointing at me
Catgirl springs forward hissing and spitting, her long nailed fingers curled into claws. Her chain snaps tight and she stops millimetres from my face
“good Kitty, down” says Veronica
Catgirl returns to her position behind Veronica’s chair. She waits impassively behind her mistress for a few moments then stokes her shoulder softly.
“Oh, okay” says Veronica passing her milkshake over to the broken heroine.
“I guess so” I say “Good job Veronica”
I fish the 200 crowns out and push them across the desk. She looks at them thoughtfully. I cock an eyebrow and glance at Neuro. He was right. Urgh.
“Maybe this place could benefit from a woman’s touch” says Veronica slowly “Maybe you keep your cash and I’ll interrogate any other problems that find their way into your warehouse Mr Lowendachs”
“You know Veronica, the same thought had crossed my mind” I say
“But don't call me Veronica” she says “If I’m going to work with those 2 then I need a cool codename too”
“Err? I think Boojum is his real name” I start to say
“You can call me Alpha Bitch from now on” says Veronica with an evil grin.
I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes at the theatrical numbskullery of the woman but at least she didn’t decide to call herself “Torture Cunt” or something equally deranged. I’m too tired and my now vacated bed is calling to me.
“Welcome on board Alpha Bitch” I say.
"Of course I'm cranky" I yell at Neuro "There's been an overindulged, manhating, psycho vigilante tied up on my bed for the last 20 hours. The only sleep I've had is in this thing"
I wave at my chair at the end of the big meeting table. My neck aches and my head hurts. I'm too fucking old for all nighter bullshit. I’m not a teenager anymore, hell, I’m not even in my twenties!
"It's a good plan" says Neuro "You just need to, you know, finish her off"
Finish her off sounds so grubby.
"Yes, excellent idea Neuro, in my exhausted state I can just go and take down Catgirl, there's no way she's going to take a shake off of me" I rant "I should have just got Boojum to strangle her”
"That would be far too much heat for us" says Neuro quickly "Dead superheros attract a lot of attention. Your plan is good, I'm sure it will work, you just need to get on with it"
I sigh and turn to stare out of the window. What the fuck am I doing. This has gotten way too real way too fast. I stare at the fledgling milkshake dispensary, how the hell did I even get into making milkshakes? Do these even qualify as evil milkshakes? Logistics and drug smuggling seemed like a sure thing, simple things to build the business on top of, not this mildly addictive health food shit. As I stare glumly out of the window wondering if my criminal career is going to be stillborn I finally register what my brain has been shouting at me. I push open the window.
"Hey! Hey! Err, you there!" I yell at one of the minions, I’ve given up calling them sales representatives, he looks like he's just found a red dot on his chest "Yes you! Is that your girlfriend? Yes the one in the waitress outfit! Yes the fucking woman you moron! For fuck’s sake man think quicker! In fact, just get up here, bring her with you, I need to talk to you both"
They look like they are going to bolt but the moment passes and they turn and walk solemnly into the building. I turn to explain the brainwave to Neuro but stop, he’s right, my underlings don’t need explanations. Plus, he gives a nod that infuriates me. He's already figured out my plan.
Boojum opens the door to the meeting room and in slouches the wide-eyed minion. The thin girlfriend follows hugging herself and rubbing her arms. Her crumpled waitress uniform is from some fast food hell hole that I can’t place. She wants our shakes. Maybe they're not so mildly addictive after all.
“Sorry I didn’t catch your name” I say catching the glare from Neuro for apologising.
“Err, Josh, Josh Verstad” he says. Boojum sneezes and Josh looks like he’s shit his pants “Mr Lowendachs” he hurriedly adds.
“And this rare flower?” I ask
He stares at me as if his dog has sat up and started discussing quantum physics then his eyes swivel to the girlfriend and a couple of neurons fire.
“Oh, Ronnie, err Veronica” he says his brows furrowing “Yeah, Veronica”
Fuck me Megaburgh’s schools have a lot to answer for. Maybe we should open some, there’s probably at least a charity tax scam in there somewhere. We could indoctrinate orphans or something. I file the idea, Neuro will probably talk me out of it. I turn to the waitress.
“Veronica, I need a waitress for a few hours, can you help me out?” I say to the increasingly fidgety woman.
“It'll cost you” she drawls back at me. She needs a good meal and is scratching at herself but her eyes gleam with an animal cunning.
“200 crowns and a crate of shakes?” I say
Her eyes brighten. Her hands come up and she starts pulling the zipper down on her uniform. It takes a moment for me to realise what she is doing.
“No, not that” I bluster suddenly embarrassed, some villain I am. I sigh “So, you’ve probably heard of Catgirl”
******
To say that Catgirl is not happy would be something of an understatement. She’s been struggling on that bed for hours trying to get out of the ropes. I watch the monitor as Veronica walks into the room.
“Ooh, you’re really Catgirl” she drawls in that awful east country accent “Here you go cutie”
She pulls down the gag. Catgirl actually hisses. Wow, hell of a commitment to staying in character.
“Don't be like that, just between us girls the boss is in a bit of a panic. He’s new to this business and he doesn’t know what to do. But while he’s making up his mind I thought you could use a drink, you must be pretty dehydrated” says Veronica innocently
“How do I know that shit’s not poisoned” says Catgirl
Veronica rolls her eyes and lifts the shake to her lips. She takes a far more generous pull on it than she should but then she’s already addicted to them. She licks her lips then hesitates for a second and bless her she murmurs “That's so good”
I almost feel sorry for the hero as she cracks under the thirst and gulps down the shake. Veronica is drawing a hand down her own chest. I wonder idly how much Klorophytum Neuro has used. Veronica pulls the empty shake away. She up ends it and tries to eek out a few last drops. She puts the shake on the side and looks at Catgirl.
"You know cutie, you’re kinda hot" says Veronica
Catgirl has stopped struggling against the cords. I watch her. She knows something isn't right, her eyes flutter.
Veronica couldn’t care less. She runs her hand over the heroine's chest. Catgirl lets her. Well, when I say "lets" I mean she doesn’t react much. She can’t very well not let her when she’s hogtied.
"Nice rack you got there cutie" says Veronica
"What was in that shake?" Catgirl asks
"Nothing, I drank it too, it’s just a sweet ass strawberry shake" replies Veronica "They’re health shakes so good for the waist too. Maybe you're still dehydrated? Hang on, let me see if I can grab a couple more. Oooh! We can have a slumber party! I’ll braid your hair!"
Veronica turns towards the door. She missed the confused look on Catgirl's face. Veronica is rapidly ascending in my estimations. She might be promotable. Which means I need to come up with a rank between trusted lieutenant and minion. I also need to get her some elocution lessons. Bugger me there’s so much bureaucracy in this job, she'll probably want a pension too!
Veronica totters back into view somehow carrying 5 tainted milkshakes. I realise she’s fully intending to drink at least 2 of the things.
“This is recording right?” I say without taking my eyes off the screen.
“Of course says Neuro” his eyes also glued to the screen
“Hey Josh do you mind running out to get some popcorn or nachos or something” I say handing twenty crowns to Veronica’s gawping boyfriend
He looks at me with the default clueless expression. Boojum coughs and he jumps.
“Sure, sure thing Mr Lowendachs” he gibbers looking longingly at the screen “I'll be quick”
We turn back. Veroinca has milkshake all around her mouth. She’s holding a vanilla to Catgirl’s mouth. The hero is gulping it down. Veronica leans down and licks the dribbles of shake from Catgirl’s face. To my surprise Catgirl’s tongue darts out and across Veronica’s lips. The two girls share a passionate kiss made all the hotter by Catgirl’s restraints. Veronica reaches up and pulls away Catgirl’s cowl. A mane of luxurious auburn hair spills out across the bed. She looks really young with her twinkling eyes staring up at Veronica. Veronica strokes her face, the long red nails contrast with Catgirl’s porcelain skin. I guess she doesn't get much sun wearing that suit all the time.
“I have no idea who that is” I say to Boojum “I thought these heros were always socialites or weather girls or philanthropists or something”
“I dunno Mr Lowendachs” rumbles Boojum dutifully
“That’s Mandy Cayne, the heiress” says Neuro “But she’s not been seen in Megaburgh for at least 5 years. Other than as Catgirl. That's quite clever actually”
“Mandy who? How the hell do you know that?” I ask
Neuro actually looks a little sheepish “I read gossip magazines, don’t judge me! Everyone has a right to a guilty pleasure”
I stare at him mouth open. An image of Neuro obsessing over his star sign or what type of crystal is right from him fills my mind. It’s too much to process right now. I look back at the monitor.
Veronica straightens up “Ok cutie, that should keep you going for a bit” she says as she turns to leave. She looks right at the camera and winks as she steps towards the door. Definitely promotable.
“Wait” gasps Catgirl her breathing heavy, I think she’s grinding against her bonds “Just one more sip?”
Gotcha
“I don’t know cutie” says Veronica turning back towards the bed “You shouldn’t drink too many of these, there are a lot of vitamins and proteins and wellness stuff in them”
“GIVE ME THE FUCKING SHAKE YOU SKANK WHORE BITCH” Screams Catgirl
Veronica cocks an eyebrow and stares at her.
“I got your popcor...” comes a voice behind me followed swiftly by the sound of a skull smacking brickwork
“Thank you Boojum” I murmur. "I guess that answers the 'what do we do about Josh the witness' question"
“Please give me just a little more shake?” mewls Catgirl “Please?”
Veronica glances at the door “I don’t know I get off now and I’ve been looking forward to seeing my boyfriend, we’re gonna rattle the old headboard know what I mean” she drawls
“I can fuck you” says Catgirl “I’ll fuck you better than any man ever could! Just let me have some more!”
Veronica walks back towards the bed. She pulls her dirty blonde hair out of its scrunchie letting it fall free. As she shuffles onto the bed she pulls down the zipper on her waitress uniform just enough to show the black bra containing her plump breasts. Sometimes I wonder if there is already something in the water in Megaburgh.
“This really escalated fast” I whisper to Neuro
He nods.
Veronica reaches over to a half empty vanilla shake, dips her thin fingers into it then brushes it across her lips. Catgirl jerks forwards. Veronica dips her head and they share another passionate kiss. Veronica breaks it and pulls the zipper down further. She pulls her waitress uniform open and pops her tits out of her bra. Again she dips her fingers in the vanilla slurry then drizzles it across her hard nipple. She leans forward and Catgirl latches onto the breast greedily.
“There’s a good kitty” whispers Veronica
She reaches out her hand, sliding it across Catgirl’s suit until she reaches the crotch. She digs her fingers roughly into the grinding mound. Catgirl, the terrifying virtuous vigilante Catgirl, moans like a street walker. Her crotch pushes against Veronica’s hand. The white nylon ropes cutting across her suit and binding her tight leave nothing to the imagination. Veronica strums the hero like a harp. She reaches into the shake and dribbles it down her breast into the sucking mouth of catgirl. The girl snaps away and squeals a shrill cry, her body jerking stiff as she cums.
She slumps away gasping. Veronica’s hand whips out and slaps her hard. Catgirl’s squeal is abruptly cut off as her face is rammed into the shake covered breast again. She resists briefly but is soon sucking down more shake.
I muttered something about needing a shower. It drew a quickly supressed smirk from Neruo. I didn’t care and headed off to my bathroom. I treated myself to 20 minutes of delightful alone time, the image of the two women fresh in my mind. I took my time drying off and getting redressed. I also grabbed a snack and some tea before heading back to the office to get a debrief. Almost an hour had passed. Veronica and Catgirl were still at it.
At some point Catgirl’s restraints had come off and her costume was open from throat to crotch. A pair of small perky breasts poked out of the dark material. Veronica lay on the bed with her legs dangling over the edge Catgirl dutifully lapping at her wet snatch.
“They’re still at it?” I asked as I walked back into the office Veronica’s shrieked orgasms echoed in the background
“I think she’s about to deliver the coup de grace” said Neuro “I think she’s a keeper”
Catgirl had slumped to the floor, her breathing heavy as Veronica pulled her knickers back into place and rezipped her uniform. She stood up and swept back her hair before stepping towards the door.
“wait…” mewled Catgirl
“What? I can’t stay here playing with you all day cutie, I have places to be” said Veronica
Catgirl rubbed her arms “Can you get me just one more shake?”
“Oh, sorry cutie, they’re an employee perk and I think they’re probably going to send you home” said Veronica
“I just want one more” whispered Catgirl hugging herself and rubbing her arms “I can still make you come”
“Well, I guess just one more could hurt” Veronica hesitates mid-sentence “But only if you crawl to me”
Catgirl looks like she’s going to protest or refuse. Instead she drops onto her hands and knees and slinks across the floor to rub against Veronica’s legs. Veronica reaches down and grabs a handful of hair. She pulls it dragging Catgirl to her feet.
“Lose the slut package” she snaps at Catgirl
The hero looks confused for a moment then shrugs her shoulders out of her suit.
“Good Kitty” says Veronica planting a quick kiss on Catgirl’s lips.
She spins the heroine around and bends her over the bed.
“Do you want me to fuck you Kitty?” she asks sliding down Catgirl’s leg and drawing her hand over the girl’s well groomed snatch.
Catgirl shudders and whispers something.
Veronica slaps her hand hard across the hero’s pale cheek leaving a red hand print “I didn’t catch that?” she says
“YES! FUCK ME” yells Catgirl
Veronica produces a strap on dildo. The thing looks huge and is covered in knobbles, it might actually be some sort of repurposed food mixer.
“Where did she get that?” I ask Neuro
“Kirkland Marital Aids, you have to order online” says Neuro without thinking
I look at him “We really need to talk after this” I say
I turn back to the screen. Veronica is rubbing the vicious member against Catgirl’s dribbling lips. Catgirl is already red faced and panting. Without warning Veronica rams the full length into the girl. She yelps in either surprise or pain I can’t tell. Our waitress cackles maniacally as she pumps her hips back and forth. I cringe at her technique but can’t drag my eyes away.
Veronica leans down to whisper to the whimpering hero “You like this don’t you? I can tell. I feel you pushing against me”
“Yes” whispers Catgirl
“You’re a good kitty aren’t you, good kitties get shakes” says Veronica as she rams with extra force into Catgirl “Maybe if you stayed here with me you could have some more”
“I, but, I” murmurs Catgirl
“As my pet” says Veronica “You’d like that wouldn’t you, to be my pet, all the shake you can lap up and for me to play with you, to play with your little aching snatch” she reaches under the red faced hero to stroke her clit.
Catgirl gasps, it’s terrifying and mesmerising to watch someone’s mind crumble “I, I, it does, if I stay with you will you fuck me some more? And I can have some shakes?” asked Catgirl
“Of course you can kitty, I’ll smooth it over with the boss” she says as she pulls back. She reaches out to take one of Catgirl’s legs and levers her onto her back.
I notice that her nipples are dark and hard, a deep red blush extends from her cheeks well into her shallow cleavage. She moans surprisingly deeply as Veronica increases the speed of her thrusts.
“Just one last thing” says Veronica “Come for me, I want to feel you from the inside as you come”
She leans forward and pinches a nipple. She continues descending on the quivering former supergirl until their lips lock. Catgirl judders, her legs lock and she releases a wail like a banshee escaping from hell. She seems to shake for a long time until finally she stills and Veronica straightens up. The former waitress pulls out of the hero and unbuckles her strapon. She moves towards the door and opens a small box “Of course you’ll need some new clothes” she says
Catgirl gurgles quietly from the bed.
“But for just now you can wear this” says Veronica as she holds up a black bra and knickers in one hand and a collar adorned with a silver chain in the other “Can’t have a pet without a leash, you’ll be my little sexy kitty”
I watch incredulous as Catgirl puts on the bra and knickers then lets Veronica collar her. She stands looking at Veronica who delivers a harsh glare until she gets the message and drops onto her hands and knees.
“Good kitty” says Veronica “Now, let’s go get you some cream”
****
“Is? Is she safe” I say
Veronica looks at the broken Catgirl standing behind her chair staring blankly into space.
“Kitty! Attack!” she yelps pointing at me
Catgirl springs forward hissing and spitting, her long nailed fingers curled into claws. Her chain snaps tight and she stops millimetres from my face
“good Kitty, down” says Veronica
Catgirl returns to her position behind Veronica’s chair. She waits impassively behind her mistress for a few moments then stokes her shoulder softly.
“Oh, okay” says Veronica passing her milkshake over to the broken heroine.
“I guess so” I say “Good job Veronica”
I fish the 200 crowns out and push them across the desk. She looks at them thoughtfully. I cock an eyebrow and glance at Neuro. He was right. Urgh.
“Maybe this place could benefit from a woman’s touch” says Veronica slowly “Maybe you keep your cash and I’ll interrogate any other problems that find their way into your warehouse Mr Lowendachs”
“You know Veronica, the same thought had crossed my mind” I say
“But don't call me Veronica” she says “If I’m going to work with those 2 then I need a cool codename too”
“Err? I think Boojum is his real name” I start to say
“You can call me Alpha Bitch from now on” says Veronica with an evil grin.
I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes at the theatrical numbskullery of the woman but at least she didn’t decide to call herself “Torture Cunt” or something equally deranged. I’m too tired and my now vacated bed is calling to me.
“Welcome on board Alpha Bitch” I say.
-
lionbadger
- Legendary Member
- Posts: 786
- Joined: 12 years ago
3
The admin and bureaucracy needed to keep tabs on any business is depressingly large. Everyone thinks you become a CEO then get to run around drinking champagne, shout orders and wave your arms at conferences. In reality it’s marathon meetings where the underlings try to convince you that they’ve actually done something, following up on notes and trying to keep track of your cash. Profit is great but cash is king. When you add a legitimate front business onto a shady criminal business you basically double the headache of all that management shit. With this in mind it had seemed like a good idea to set a recurring meeting for Monday mornings to review where we are in the grand villainous conspiracy. Get it out of the way and try to move forward to the fun stuff like death rays and blowing up orphanages.
I look at my lieutenants. Neuro, thin and weasely and idly sketching while his incredible mind sifts through his plots and plans. I glance at his notepad sketches to see if I can fathom what complex scam he’s cooked up this time. Pot noodle, Y/N ? it says. Boojum a hulking mountain of a man who seems to have the mind of child is staring blankly into space and Veron..., err Alpha Bitch, former shake junkie waitress now unofficial interrogator with her conquest “Kitty” the former Catgirl now utterly broken and dependent on her mistress, skulking behind her chair. So basically the normal executive team of megalomaniacs, psychos and sadists.
They are all clearly as bored as I am. The head of our accounting team, formerly of the collapsed bank Barratt Brothers and looking to lay low, is showing a powerpoint. My start up money from Byzantium is almost exhausted and while the black line of our income is creeping up to meet the angry red line of our expenses it’s still too low. He witters something about admin expenses. The admin he’s talking about is the small army of gangers and street thugs we have on the payroll to keep them and their ilk from hassling the HQ on an hourly basis.
I make a desperate break for air “So what do you suggest Norman?”
He blinks rapidly as 4 sets of eyes bore into him “Err, well I’m not really strategy, I’m a reporting function you see so I can only...”
“Mister Lowendachs axed you a question” rumbles Boojum
I cringe at his accented "axed".
The accountant goes white and sweat starts to bead his forehead “err, cut some admin expense?”
“Impossible” says Neuro “That will result in rogue gang members turning on our operations. We’d have to recruit twice as many in the medium term”
“Strike one bean counter” says Alpha Bitch quietly “3 strikes and you’re mine to play with” she looks terrifying in her skin tight leather pants, black turtle neck and hair scraped into a high pony tail.
I shake my head at the clichéd displays.
“We could take on some riskier customers in the logistics division” stammers the accountant
“How risky” says Neuro
“Well, maybe the firms that have been fined for being a little less diligent in making sure that their cargo isn’t, err, live” he says
I’m almost impressed.
“Too risky for a young operation, we don’t need the border force crawling all over this place before we’re up to speed” says Neuro
He’s probably right. I like the idea though, there’s good money in people trafficking.
Alpha Bitch holds up 2 fingers. Kitty strokes her mistress’ arm and turns her huge hungry eyes on Norman. Boojum stands up and fastens the button in the middle of his charcoal suit. He lumbers slowly down the side of the big conference table. Norman looks ready to piss himself.
“Mr Lowendachs don’t reward failures” rumbles Boojum as he reaches the end
“A grant!” shrieks Norman cowering “A city or state development grant! It’d keep us afloat while our cash flow stabilises, we could even expand into the construction sector!”
“Was dat so hard” says Boojum patting the man heavily on the shoulder before turning back to his seat.
“next time” mouths Alpha Bitch as Kitty hisses angrily
“How long” I say “Megaburgh’s bureaucracy doesn’t move quickly”
Norman looks like a drowning man who found a life raft and after climbing on discovered it’s got a tiger in it, he swallows audibly “I’m sure no longer than 4 weeks, I’m sure we can expedite”
“Good man” I say as if he hadn't just received a brace of death threats “You’re one in a million Norman”
He seems relieved, mutters some woeful platitude then scurries out.
“Who’s next?” I say
“HR” says Neuro
“HR?” I say
“Of course” says Neuro “It’s one thing to break the law, be hounded by super powered alien vigilantes or, dare I say it, not recycle but you don’t want to be on the wrong side of HR”
“When did we even hire HR?” I ask
“When we hit 30, ahem, employees” he says “compulsory to have employee welfare officer under the Job Stability Act, which means an HR person”
“Is this the last one?” I ask
“Yes” replies Neuro, he pauses then gives me a stern look “Also, do not freak out”
“Why would I....” I say as a woman enters the room.
A tight white blouse is fighting a losing battle to contain her massive rack. The jet black pencil skirt looks like it could be painted on. Thin black stockings encase long and powerful legs that end in ridiculous heels. Her pale blonde hair is done up in a tight corporate bun and a pair of designer spectacles frame her brilliant blue eyes. The whole get up screams “undercover heroine”. My eyes swivel to Neuro. He has the grace to grimace. Surprisingly, Boojum cracks his knuckles.
She puts her laptop down then marches right up the office, casting a quizzical glance at Alpha Bitch and Kitty in passing and stops in front of me throwing out a hand “Bethany Svensson, pleased to finally meet you Mr Lowendachs”
I hesitate then quickly stand. Her eyebrow cocks. “Pleased to meet you Bethany, I look forward to working with you”
She grins as if she's won some sort of personal victory then marches back to her laptop, jams an HDMI cable into the back and starts to run through slides about proper performance management, employee engagement and incentive schemes. I slide into a coma and dream idly about death rays.
“I said that’s why I need your input” the voice pierces my day dream, shit, caught out not listening.
“It’s an interesting one” I murmur steepling my fingers as I realise I’ve daydreamed through 40 minutes “But I agree in principle that we need more employee engagement here, so why not start right now, here in the board room, let’s blue sky this, Neuro, what are your thoughts”
He gives me a puzzled look then drawls “I don’t think changing the corporate logo to pink will empower the female employees one tiny bit”
I cringe inwardly “Boojum?” I ask
“I like the blue logo” he rumbles
“Veronica?” I ask earning a hiss from kitty
Alpha Bitch’s eyes never stray from Bethany “I think this prissy little bitch needs a lesson in reality. How the fuck did she think she could just...”
“Yes all good” I say loudly as a look of horror fills Bethany’s face “Good presentation Miss Svensson, we’ll put a pin in the rebranding, maybe revisit in a quarter or two”
Bethany drags her eyes away from Alpha Bitch “She can’t say...”
“In this economy?” I say quietly “You’re going to accuse senior management of what? A stressful outburst? Or are you going to write it off and get back to making this an engaging and productive workplace for all?”
She mouths silently for a few seconds then makes a decision “Thank you all, same time next week!” She gathers her things and leaves the room. Silence descends.
“Well handled” says Neuro after a few moments
“Are you and I am being serious here, out of your fucking mind!” I bark
“We need HR” he replies
“Ver... damit, Alpha Bitch?” I say
“She’s a super” Alpha Bitch states
“Boojum?” I say
“She looks like a super to me, got dem huge melons” he rumbles
“Neuro, she’s so blatantly a super it’s like she’s got I’m a fucking super plastered across her forehead!” I yell
He looks at me nonplussed “Have you ever fought a super? A real flying, bending steel, laser eyes super?” he asks
I glance at Kitty’s big eyes peering eerily at me “Well, sort of...”
“No, the answer is no” says Neuro “So what we need is intel on a super to figure out how to beat them!”
“This is the front to a serious criminal empire, what will be a serious criminal empire” I correct myself
“And who is going to investigate it if we have a super working here as part of their secret identity? I actually think we should get some more on staff” he says nonchalantly
In a weird way it makes a kind of sense. I can see Alpha Bitch warming to the idea. She’s desperate to expand her harem. Boojum just stares silently ahead waiting for a neuron to fire. But Neuro is too smug.
“If this backfires Neuro you’re going to wish you were in hell with your back broken” I say
He looks genuinely shocked “Holy fuck, where did that come from? That’s the most boss thing you’ve ever said!” he stands to leave “They grow up so fast” he murmurs
***
I glare at Neruo, this is ridiculous. Bethany shuffles papers and pushes her glasses up her nose before nudging me gently with her elbow. The woman sitting across the desk from us is somewhere between mid 20s and mid 30s. Straight raven black hair falls to her shoulders and frames a caramel skinned face typical of someone from the south of the continent. Smart black eyes stare at me. The huge signature breasts, are wrapped in a pale blue shirt and suit jacket that dives to an implausibly tiny waist.
“Good morning Miss Adrete” I say “This is Bethany Svenson, our head of HR, I believe you already had a first round interview with her”
Bethany gives the least subtle wink I’ve ever seen and has it returned. Maybe they really are that dumb.
“Yes that is correct Mr Lowendachs” she states in a fast, clipped accent
“And this is Mr... “ I trail off as I realise I can’t very well introduce him as Neuro
“Mr Fletcher” says Neuro smoothly “I am chief operating officer”
“I thought you were vice president of logistics” says Bethany
“logistics is an operation” says Neuro without breaking a stride
“Well now I have to update the intranet organisation chart” huffs Bethany as if she’s been tasked with curing cancer.
“When did we set up an intranet?” I ask mildly
“I presented it on Monday, to give the grunts some way of communicating between departments” she says
Typical fucking superheroine, anyone not spending their evenings at galas and benefits is a “grunt”.
“Oh that intranet, yes of course” I realise that Miss Adrete is still sitting in front of us “So Miss Adrete, you’re a marketing guru?”
“Oh yes” she replies glancing at Bethany “I specialise in small start ups, tech sector in particular, I did a lot of successful campaigns before the crash. Unfortunately times have been a bit lean since then”
“Are you saying, that under normal circumstances you’d consider yourself too good for Globo Dynamics?” I ask mildly
Bethany draws in her breath sharply. Miss Adrete looks flummoxed for a moment then shuffles her tits and tries again.
“Not at all, this is exactly the sort of company I like to work for, I merely mean to explain the recent gaps in my employment history” she says
“Globo Dynamics is getting a lot of interest from career women especially since it instigated the right to flexible working” says Bethany “It’s really useful for women with, err, sort of full social lives”
She’s basically just stated outright that they are both supers.
“Yes, the enlightened modern attitude of Globo Dynamics is most” Adrete looks down then back up, right at me. It looks like her eyes have tripled in size “Appealing” she whispers seductively.
I feel myself blush, I know she’s playing a game but I can’t help it. I curse Neuro’s stupid plan for the hundredth time and decide to let him take the load.
“Didn’t you have a question Mr Fletcher?” I ask Neuro
“Indeed, indeed, Ms Adrete about your previous employer Nakimoto Atomic Concern” says Neuro
Ms Adrete shifts uncomfortably and a frown crosses Bethany’s face.
“Nakimoto was building a new nuclear reactor on the edge of Megaburgh but there was an accident and some sort of minor meltdown occurred” he pauses
“That’s correct” says Ms Adrete
“I was just wondering if you were caught up in that incident and forgive me for being blunt, if you suffered any long term health issues” he asks
“Mr Fletcher!” exclaims Bethany “You cannot ask a candidate such a question! That is clearly discriminatory”
“It’s alright Beth” says Ms Adrete “I was caught up in the meltdown but that was a few years ago and my doctors assure me that I have a clean bill of health, there is nothing in my medical history that will affect my ability to punch a clock”
She over emphasised “punch”.
We trundle through a dozen more tired and cliched questions. Bethany jumps in to throw her friend a lifeline whenever she stumbles, she’s about as subtle as a brick to the face. I decide to go wildly off piste.
“What do you think about the increase in masked vigilantes?” I ask
Bethany smiles smugly. Ms Adrete shuffles her tits again, flips her hair over her shoulder and launches into some sort of pre prepared speech.
“I believe that these selfless individuals are a boon to the city. With the post-crash upsurge in crime something had to be done, the police were basically powerless. Truth and justice and property rights were on the edge of collapse. If not for the likes of, say Ms Atomica”
Bethany coughs loudly
“and Thorella” Ms Adrete adds quickly “Then you might all have been brutally raped and murdered and possibly even eaten in your beds”
I guess that answers that, Neuro’s question about the Nakimoto meltdown suddenly makes sense and Bethany is the most stereotypical norsican I’ve ever seen.
“Heavens forfend” I say in faux horror much to the grinning idiocy of Ms Adrete and Bethany. “..... but don’t you think it’s as dangerous to have masked vigilantes with powers that nobody understands running around and meting out corporal punishment, in some cases capital punishment? I don’t say there isn’t a place for supers but a sole person acting as judge jury and in many cases executioner is rather dangerous, no other branch of law enforcement does that”
“Well, perhaps that’s why the other branches of law enforcement are so inept and susceptible to corruption” says Bethany with almost a snarl “I think...”
“Who watches the watchmen?” interrupts Ms Adrete “You have a point Mr Lowendachs”
Bethany gapes soundlessly and eventually manages a tiny squeaked ‘what?’
“All of the heros in the city operate alone and without supervision, the logical step is for them to form an organisation or team so that they operate under a unified code” says Ms Adrete
What. The. Fuck. Have I done.
“I mean there is no real hope of the police force stopping the mighty Ms Atomica if she were to do something illegal” she continues.
Bethany glares daggers.
“Or imagine if the wondrous Thorella were to go rogue” she adds with a sigh “Only another superhero could hope to halt them.
Bethany coughs. Adrete sighs.
"...and even then I wouldn't bet against Thorella"
“What a good idea” Neuro suddenly says “Perhaps you should create an editorial piece and submit it to the Daily Herald, with luck it will be published and catch the eye of a superhero, in fact, we have recently bought significant advertising space in that paper and could exert a little influence to get your message across”
“Thank you Mr Fletcher I may very well take you up on that kind offer” she says
“Mr Lowendachs, aren’t you scheduled to have dinner with the mayor this week? Perhaps you could float this idea and see if she might be prepared to resurrect the Superhero Immunity Act” says Neuro
That dinner is news to me but the mayor is up for re election next year and half her old donors have either moved out of Megaburgh or gone to jail. I’m not sure I like Neuro’s ‘play nice with heros’ plan but decide it’s too late to back out.
“I can certainly raise it” I say “It would be good to give the city’s superheros an official recognition and legal framework to protect them from prosecution”
“I’m sure the superhero community would be very grateful” says Ms Adrete
I feel pressure like a car crusher on my arm “They’d be very grateful indeed, I’m sure” says Bethany
Do they even know they are.... oh, ok that must be superpheromones or musk or something. I’m suddenly compelled to try to kiss Bethany and generally act like a drooling idiot. My hand is halfway to cupping her tit before I realise and pull it back. She looks at me slyly then pulls back.
“Thank you Ms Adrete” says Neuro. He sounds like he’s a million miles away. A million miles away and under water “We’ll be in touch. Miss Svensson would you see Ms Adrete out?”
“Certainly” says Bethany standing up “Oops” She drops her pen, glances back at me then bends at the waist and takes a long time to pick it up. I see through the haze of desire that she is wearing black hold ups “So clumsy” she says straightening up.
I watch them leave the room as despair and want rise up in me.
“Look here, let me see your eyes” says Neuro grabbing my face “Oh dear, she’s fucked you up good”
He looks at me with indecision for a moment then shrugs and pulls me from my chair and steers me to a window. He throws it wide and the semi arctic air of early spring blasts into the office. It takes 10 minutes of freezing fresh air before my head starts to clear. Twenty minutes and I’m thinking straight.
“Ms Atomica and Thorella then” I say
“I’d say so” says Neuro “We need to hire Adrete and I think let them steer maybe 2 or 3 more into the recruitment”
“You think they’ll act like security for us?” I say
“As long as we make token gestures to support their cause they’ll make sure no harm comes to us. We will however need to set up some subtle internal divisions between our fronts and the real business” he says
“Naturally” I say still a little out of it
“Which means sending Alpha Bitch offsite to do some more hands on work” he says
“Sure, whatever, she hates all the corporate office stuff anyway” I mutter
“What I wouldn’t give to have those pheromones” says Neuro
A thought occurs “You were right beside me, how is it that you’re not a drooling mess”
“Seriously? Mr Lowendachs you disappoint me” he says
“Ok so you’ve got some sort of mental fortitude or only numbers not curves interest you?” I say
“In a manner of speaking” he says grinning. I frown “You’re not joking” he says “I’m gay, really really gay, I love cocks, big cocks slapping my face”
My jaw drops. He reaches over with a clammy hand and shuts it.
“That’s not a problem is it?” he asks nervously.
“No, no” I say hurriedly “I never twigged, given our adversaries it’s an asset, I’m just surprised”
“I know, I don’t fit the stereotype very well, it makes dating a bit tricky” he says
“Right, ok, well” I stammer trying not to look uncomfortable “The plan seems to be working, we’ve identified 2 high level supers, we’ve discovered they produce high levels of stupidity inducing pheromones, we know they don’t affect gay men and that it pretty much wears off after 20 minutes of fresh air”
“Yes, I’m quite pleased that we have obtained such valuable intelligence so soon” he says steepling his fingers “I will go and start creating an encrypted database immediately”
I slump back in my chair and unlock my laptop. 73 unread emails, I’ve only been away from my desk for an hour! I skim them, about 40% are Norman putting me on CC just for the hell of it. A calendar invite to dinner with the mayor has appeared, I toy with the idea of declining just to mess with Neuro but guiltily I admit to myself that moving in powerful circles has great appeal. I swing my chair around and look out of the window. Most of the view is the depressing brown tenements across the road. One day I’ll flatten them and make a park, or maybe I could just paint them sky blue and pretend they are not there.
A loud knock raps hard on the conference room door “Come in” I yell without turning around. I remember suddenly a lecture about how acting arrogant and omniscient can get you shot in the back and quickly spin around.
Thorella is striding up the room towards me. Now that I know she’s Bethany I can see it clearly despite the transformation changes. She stands about 30cm taller than Bethany. Her thick golden hair is braided and plaited on the right side of her head. A tiny scalemail bikini and thong are complimented by thick bronze bracers on her wrists. I have no idea where she found knee high fur topped barbarian boots with 12cm heels but oddly they work. I notice her sword sticking over her worryingly powerful shoulder, she seems to have added a lot of muscle mass.
“Err, do I have an appointment with you Mrs.....?” I say in a somewhat less confident manner than I planned.
She frowns the exact same frown that Bethany makes “Thorella, just Thorella, it’s a mononym and yes you do, at least you do now”
She comes to a stop and sits on the edge of the table. It bows alarmingly but fortunately doesn’t snap.
“I’ve heard good things about you Mr Lowendachs” she says
Which is oddly reassuring.
“You’re bringing opportunity to this area and you’re not afraid to take a principled stand on equality” she says.
I’m not sure if she’s complimenting our hiring practices or making a clumsy veiled threat.
“I just wanted to stop by and reassure you that the superhero community values civic minded citizens”
Err right I think as I stare at her.
“Your head of HR has told me a lot about you” she says
“Oh yes Bethany has been a breath of fresh air, we’re very pleased with her, good head on her shoulders, I think she’ll go far, I’m actually worried she’ll leave us for a bigger player” I say feigning worry.
Thorella scoffs “Oh I wouldn’t worry I’m sure Bethany prefers building a progressive company to being a cog”
“That’s good to know” I say “Hey, why don’t I get her up here, you can say hello” I say moving my hand to lift the phone .
A look of sudden concern flashes across her face. She defaults to her standard distraction technique. Her hand jumps to her bra, jerking it aside to release a massive mammary.
“I’ll catch up with her later” says Thorella. She slips her other tit out and lurches forward ramming my head between the 2 flesh mountains.
“I noticed you don’t wear a wedding ring, you know, it’s so hard to meet a good man in Megaburgh” she mutters wistfully.
I realise that I’m in danger of imminent smothering. I try to pull away but either she doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. My money is on the later.
“And when all your free time is spent fighting crime and keeping the riff raff in check there’s not much time for fun, do you like fun Mr Lowendachs? Mr Lowendachs?”
She pulls my head away and I dimly perceive a quizzical expression at the end of the rapidly shrinking tunnel that passes for my sight.
“Oh bother, not again” she murmurs
I dread to think of how many pets died in that embrace.
“Don’t you die on me too” she declares as she leans forward. Her mouth clamps over mine and I get a distinct taste of salty liquorice before she commences CPR. I assume it’s CPR. She might be trying to explode my chest. My lungs strain at their seams to contain the never-ending breath she blasts into me. She pulls back and cracks her knuckles. I realise she’s going to do chest compressions. My life flashes before my eyes. I slow down and rewind to take in her great tits before survival instinct forces my body into action. I cough and wave an arm.
“Are you okay?” she asks
“Yes, yes” I cough
No no I mean, you clumsy bitch.
“Sorry sometimes my breasts take people by surprise” she says entirely unapologetically
Yeah, right love, surprise. Nothing to do with your crushing bear hug, suspiciously large hands and utter cluelessness.
“Quite alright, my fault entirely” I wheeze “Was there anything else?”
She tucks, not without difficulty, her massive rack back into her bikini top “Err, no, I’ll let you get back to work. Keep up the good work and don’t be afraid” she strikes a heroic pose and I hate myself a bit for being impressed “You have powerful friends good citizen who are ever ready to come to your aid”
The admin and bureaucracy needed to keep tabs on any business is depressingly large. Everyone thinks you become a CEO then get to run around drinking champagne, shout orders and wave your arms at conferences. In reality it’s marathon meetings where the underlings try to convince you that they’ve actually done something, following up on notes and trying to keep track of your cash. Profit is great but cash is king. When you add a legitimate front business onto a shady criminal business you basically double the headache of all that management shit. With this in mind it had seemed like a good idea to set a recurring meeting for Monday mornings to review where we are in the grand villainous conspiracy. Get it out of the way and try to move forward to the fun stuff like death rays and blowing up orphanages.
I look at my lieutenants. Neuro, thin and weasely and idly sketching while his incredible mind sifts through his plots and plans. I glance at his notepad sketches to see if I can fathom what complex scam he’s cooked up this time. Pot noodle, Y/N ? it says. Boojum a hulking mountain of a man who seems to have the mind of child is staring blankly into space and Veron..., err Alpha Bitch, former shake junkie waitress now unofficial interrogator with her conquest “Kitty” the former Catgirl now utterly broken and dependent on her mistress, skulking behind her chair. So basically the normal executive team of megalomaniacs, psychos and sadists.
They are all clearly as bored as I am. The head of our accounting team, formerly of the collapsed bank Barratt Brothers and looking to lay low, is showing a powerpoint. My start up money from Byzantium is almost exhausted and while the black line of our income is creeping up to meet the angry red line of our expenses it’s still too low. He witters something about admin expenses. The admin he’s talking about is the small army of gangers and street thugs we have on the payroll to keep them and their ilk from hassling the HQ on an hourly basis.
I make a desperate break for air “So what do you suggest Norman?”
He blinks rapidly as 4 sets of eyes bore into him “Err, well I’m not really strategy, I’m a reporting function you see so I can only...”
“Mister Lowendachs axed you a question” rumbles Boojum
I cringe at his accented "axed".
The accountant goes white and sweat starts to bead his forehead “err, cut some admin expense?”
“Impossible” says Neuro “That will result in rogue gang members turning on our operations. We’d have to recruit twice as many in the medium term”
“Strike one bean counter” says Alpha Bitch quietly “3 strikes and you’re mine to play with” she looks terrifying in her skin tight leather pants, black turtle neck and hair scraped into a high pony tail.
I shake my head at the clichéd displays.
“We could take on some riskier customers in the logistics division” stammers the accountant
“How risky” says Neuro
“Well, maybe the firms that have been fined for being a little less diligent in making sure that their cargo isn’t, err, live” he says
I’m almost impressed.
“Too risky for a young operation, we don’t need the border force crawling all over this place before we’re up to speed” says Neuro
He’s probably right. I like the idea though, there’s good money in people trafficking.
Alpha Bitch holds up 2 fingers. Kitty strokes her mistress’ arm and turns her huge hungry eyes on Norman. Boojum stands up and fastens the button in the middle of his charcoal suit. He lumbers slowly down the side of the big conference table. Norman looks ready to piss himself.
“Mr Lowendachs don’t reward failures” rumbles Boojum as he reaches the end
“A grant!” shrieks Norman cowering “A city or state development grant! It’d keep us afloat while our cash flow stabilises, we could even expand into the construction sector!”
“Was dat so hard” says Boojum patting the man heavily on the shoulder before turning back to his seat.
“next time” mouths Alpha Bitch as Kitty hisses angrily
“How long” I say “Megaburgh’s bureaucracy doesn’t move quickly”
Norman looks like a drowning man who found a life raft and after climbing on discovered it’s got a tiger in it, he swallows audibly “I’m sure no longer than 4 weeks, I’m sure we can expedite”
“Good man” I say as if he hadn't just received a brace of death threats “You’re one in a million Norman”
He seems relieved, mutters some woeful platitude then scurries out.
“Who’s next?” I say
“HR” says Neuro
“HR?” I say
“Of course” says Neuro “It’s one thing to break the law, be hounded by super powered alien vigilantes or, dare I say it, not recycle but you don’t want to be on the wrong side of HR”
“When did we even hire HR?” I ask
“When we hit 30, ahem, employees” he says “compulsory to have employee welfare officer under the Job Stability Act, which means an HR person”
“Is this the last one?” I ask
“Yes” replies Neuro, he pauses then gives me a stern look “Also, do not freak out”
“Why would I....” I say as a woman enters the room.
A tight white blouse is fighting a losing battle to contain her massive rack. The jet black pencil skirt looks like it could be painted on. Thin black stockings encase long and powerful legs that end in ridiculous heels. Her pale blonde hair is done up in a tight corporate bun and a pair of designer spectacles frame her brilliant blue eyes. The whole get up screams “undercover heroine”. My eyes swivel to Neuro. He has the grace to grimace. Surprisingly, Boojum cracks his knuckles.
She puts her laptop down then marches right up the office, casting a quizzical glance at Alpha Bitch and Kitty in passing and stops in front of me throwing out a hand “Bethany Svensson, pleased to finally meet you Mr Lowendachs”
I hesitate then quickly stand. Her eyebrow cocks. “Pleased to meet you Bethany, I look forward to working with you”
She grins as if she's won some sort of personal victory then marches back to her laptop, jams an HDMI cable into the back and starts to run through slides about proper performance management, employee engagement and incentive schemes. I slide into a coma and dream idly about death rays.
“I said that’s why I need your input” the voice pierces my day dream, shit, caught out not listening.
“It’s an interesting one” I murmur steepling my fingers as I realise I’ve daydreamed through 40 minutes “But I agree in principle that we need more employee engagement here, so why not start right now, here in the board room, let’s blue sky this, Neuro, what are your thoughts”
He gives me a puzzled look then drawls “I don’t think changing the corporate logo to pink will empower the female employees one tiny bit”
I cringe inwardly “Boojum?” I ask
“I like the blue logo” he rumbles
“Veronica?” I ask earning a hiss from kitty
Alpha Bitch’s eyes never stray from Bethany “I think this prissy little bitch needs a lesson in reality. How the fuck did she think she could just...”
“Yes all good” I say loudly as a look of horror fills Bethany’s face “Good presentation Miss Svensson, we’ll put a pin in the rebranding, maybe revisit in a quarter or two”
Bethany drags her eyes away from Alpha Bitch “She can’t say...”
“In this economy?” I say quietly “You’re going to accuse senior management of what? A stressful outburst? Or are you going to write it off and get back to making this an engaging and productive workplace for all?”
She mouths silently for a few seconds then makes a decision “Thank you all, same time next week!” She gathers her things and leaves the room. Silence descends.
“Well handled” says Neuro after a few moments
“Are you and I am being serious here, out of your fucking mind!” I bark
“We need HR” he replies
“Ver... damit, Alpha Bitch?” I say
“She’s a super” Alpha Bitch states
“Boojum?” I say
“She looks like a super to me, got dem huge melons” he rumbles
“Neuro, she’s so blatantly a super it’s like she’s got I’m a fucking super plastered across her forehead!” I yell
He looks at me nonplussed “Have you ever fought a super? A real flying, bending steel, laser eyes super?” he asks
I glance at Kitty’s big eyes peering eerily at me “Well, sort of...”
“No, the answer is no” says Neuro “So what we need is intel on a super to figure out how to beat them!”
“This is the front to a serious criminal empire, what will be a serious criminal empire” I correct myself
“And who is going to investigate it if we have a super working here as part of their secret identity? I actually think we should get some more on staff” he says nonchalantly
In a weird way it makes a kind of sense. I can see Alpha Bitch warming to the idea. She’s desperate to expand her harem. Boojum just stares silently ahead waiting for a neuron to fire. But Neuro is too smug.
“If this backfires Neuro you’re going to wish you were in hell with your back broken” I say
He looks genuinely shocked “Holy fuck, where did that come from? That’s the most boss thing you’ve ever said!” he stands to leave “They grow up so fast” he murmurs
***
I glare at Neruo, this is ridiculous. Bethany shuffles papers and pushes her glasses up her nose before nudging me gently with her elbow. The woman sitting across the desk from us is somewhere between mid 20s and mid 30s. Straight raven black hair falls to her shoulders and frames a caramel skinned face typical of someone from the south of the continent. Smart black eyes stare at me. The huge signature breasts, are wrapped in a pale blue shirt and suit jacket that dives to an implausibly tiny waist.
“Good morning Miss Adrete” I say “This is Bethany Svenson, our head of HR, I believe you already had a first round interview with her”
Bethany gives the least subtle wink I’ve ever seen and has it returned. Maybe they really are that dumb.
“Yes that is correct Mr Lowendachs” she states in a fast, clipped accent
“And this is Mr... “ I trail off as I realise I can’t very well introduce him as Neuro
“Mr Fletcher” says Neuro smoothly “I am chief operating officer”
“I thought you were vice president of logistics” says Bethany
“logistics is an operation” says Neuro without breaking a stride
“Well now I have to update the intranet organisation chart” huffs Bethany as if she’s been tasked with curing cancer.
“When did we set up an intranet?” I ask mildly
“I presented it on Monday, to give the grunts some way of communicating between departments” she says
Typical fucking superheroine, anyone not spending their evenings at galas and benefits is a “grunt”.
“Oh that intranet, yes of course” I realise that Miss Adrete is still sitting in front of us “So Miss Adrete, you’re a marketing guru?”
“Oh yes” she replies glancing at Bethany “I specialise in small start ups, tech sector in particular, I did a lot of successful campaigns before the crash. Unfortunately times have been a bit lean since then”
“Are you saying, that under normal circumstances you’d consider yourself too good for Globo Dynamics?” I ask mildly
Bethany draws in her breath sharply. Miss Adrete looks flummoxed for a moment then shuffles her tits and tries again.
“Not at all, this is exactly the sort of company I like to work for, I merely mean to explain the recent gaps in my employment history” she says
“Globo Dynamics is getting a lot of interest from career women especially since it instigated the right to flexible working” says Bethany “It’s really useful for women with, err, sort of full social lives”
She’s basically just stated outright that they are both supers.
“Yes, the enlightened modern attitude of Globo Dynamics is most” Adrete looks down then back up, right at me. It looks like her eyes have tripled in size “Appealing” she whispers seductively.
I feel myself blush, I know she’s playing a game but I can’t help it. I curse Neuro’s stupid plan for the hundredth time and decide to let him take the load.
“Didn’t you have a question Mr Fletcher?” I ask Neuro
“Indeed, indeed, Ms Adrete about your previous employer Nakimoto Atomic Concern” says Neuro
Ms Adrete shifts uncomfortably and a frown crosses Bethany’s face.
“Nakimoto was building a new nuclear reactor on the edge of Megaburgh but there was an accident and some sort of minor meltdown occurred” he pauses
“That’s correct” says Ms Adrete
“I was just wondering if you were caught up in that incident and forgive me for being blunt, if you suffered any long term health issues” he asks
“Mr Fletcher!” exclaims Bethany “You cannot ask a candidate such a question! That is clearly discriminatory”
“It’s alright Beth” says Ms Adrete “I was caught up in the meltdown but that was a few years ago and my doctors assure me that I have a clean bill of health, there is nothing in my medical history that will affect my ability to punch a clock”
She over emphasised “punch”.
We trundle through a dozen more tired and cliched questions. Bethany jumps in to throw her friend a lifeline whenever she stumbles, she’s about as subtle as a brick to the face. I decide to go wildly off piste.
“What do you think about the increase in masked vigilantes?” I ask
Bethany smiles smugly. Ms Adrete shuffles her tits again, flips her hair over her shoulder and launches into some sort of pre prepared speech.
“I believe that these selfless individuals are a boon to the city. With the post-crash upsurge in crime something had to be done, the police were basically powerless. Truth and justice and property rights were on the edge of collapse. If not for the likes of, say Ms Atomica”
Bethany coughs loudly
“and Thorella” Ms Adrete adds quickly “Then you might all have been brutally raped and murdered and possibly even eaten in your beds”
I guess that answers that, Neuro’s question about the Nakimoto meltdown suddenly makes sense and Bethany is the most stereotypical norsican I’ve ever seen.
“Heavens forfend” I say in faux horror much to the grinning idiocy of Ms Adrete and Bethany. “..... but don’t you think it’s as dangerous to have masked vigilantes with powers that nobody understands running around and meting out corporal punishment, in some cases capital punishment? I don’t say there isn’t a place for supers but a sole person acting as judge jury and in many cases executioner is rather dangerous, no other branch of law enforcement does that”
“Well, perhaps that’s why the other branches of law enforcement are so inept and susceptible to corruption” says Bethany with almost a snarl “I think...”
“Who watches the watchmen?” interrupts Ms Adrete “You have a point Mr Lowendachs”
Bethany gapes soundlessly and eventually manages a tiny squeaked ‘what?’
“All of the heros in the city operate alone and without supervision, the logical step is for them to form an organisation or team so that they operate under a unified code” says Ms Adrete
What. The. Fuck. Have I done.
“I mean there is no real hope of the police force stopping the mighty Ms Atomica if she were to do something illegal” she continues.
Bethany glares daggers.
“Or imagine if the wondrous Thorella were to go rogue” she adds with a sigh “Only another superhero could hope to halt them.
Bethany coughs. Adrete sighs.
"...and even then I wouldn't bet against Thorella"
“What a good idea” Neuro suddenly says “Perhaps you should create an editorial piece and submit it to the Daily Herald, with luck it will be published and catch the eye of a superhero, in fact, we have recently bought significant advertising space in that paper and could exert a little influence to get your message across”
“Thank you Mr Fletcher I may very well take you up on that kind offer” she says
“Mr Lowendachs, aren’t you scheduled to have dinner with the mayor this week? Perhaps you could float this idea and see if she might be prepared to resurrect the Superhero Immunity Act” says Neuro
That dinner is news to me but the mayor is up for re election next year and half her old donors have either moved out of Megaburgh or gone to jail. I’m not sure I like Neuro’s ‘play nice with heros’ plan but decide it’s too late to back out.
“I can certainly raise it” I say “It would be good to give the city’s superheros an official recognition and legal framework to protect them from prosecution”
“I’m sure the superhero community would be very grateful” says Ms Adrete
I feel pressure like a car crusher on my arm “They’d be very grateful indeed, I’m sure” says Bethany
Do they even know they are.... oh, ok that must be superpheromones or musk or something. I’m suddenly compelled to try to kiss Bethany and generally act like a drooling idiot. My hand is halfway to cupping her tit before I realise and pull it back. She looks at me slyly then pulls back.
“Thank you Ms Adrete” says Neuro. He sounds like he’s a million miles away. A million miles away and under water “We’ll be in touch. Miss Svensson would you see Ms Adrete out?”
“Certainly” says Bethany standing up “Oops” She drops her pen, glances back at me then bends at the waist and takes a long time to pick it up. I see through the haze of desire that she is wearing black hold ups “So clumsy” she says straightening up.
I watch them leave the room as despair and want rise up in me.
“Look here, let me see your eyes” says Neuro grabbing my face “Oh dear, she’s fucked you up good”
He looks at me with indecision for a moment then shrugs and pulls me from my chair and steers me to a window. He throws it wide and the semi arctic air of early spring blasts into the office. It takes 10 minutes of freezing fresh air before my head starts to clear. Twenty minutes and I’m thinking straight.
“Ms Atomica and Thorella then” I say
“I’d say so” says Neuro “We need to hire Adrete and I think let them steer maybe 2 or 3 more into the recruitment”
“You think they’ll act like security for us?” I say
“As long as we make token gestures to support their cause they’ll make sure no harm comes to us. We will however need to set up some subtle internal divisions between our fronts and the real business” he says
“Naturally” I say still a little out of it
“Which means sending Alpha Bitch offsite to do some more hands on work” he says
“Sure, whatever, she hates all the corporate office stuff anyway” I mutter
“What I wouldn’t give to have those pheromones” says Neuro
A thought occurs “You were right beside me, how is it that you’re not a drooling mess”
“Seriously? Mr Lowendachs you disappoint me” he says
“Ok so you’ve got some sort of mental fortitude or only numbers not curves interest you?” I say
“In a manner of speaking” he says grinning. I frown “You’re not joking” he says “I’m gay, really really gay, I love cocks, big cocks slapping my face”
My jaw drops. He reaches over with a clammy hand and shuts it.
“That’s not a problem is it?” he asks nervously.
“No, no” I say hurriedly “I never twigged, given our adversaries it’s an asset, I’m just surprised”
“I know, I don’t fit the stereotype very well, it makes dating a bit tricky” he says
“Right, ok, well” I stammer trying not to look uncomfortable “The plan seems to be working, we’ve identified 2 high level supers, we’ve discovered they produce high levels of stupidity inducing pheromones, we know they don’t affect gay men and that it pretty much wears off after 20 minutes of fresh air”
“Yes, I’m quite pleased that we have obtained such valuable intelligence so soon” he says steepling his fingers “I will go and start creating an encrypted database immediately”
I slump back in my chair and unlock my laptop. 73 unread emails, I’ve only been away from my desk for an hour! I skim them, about 40% are Norman putting me on CC just for the hell of it. A calendar invite to dinner with the mayor has appeared, I toy with the idea of declining just to mess with Neuro but guiltily I admit to myself that moving in powerful circles has great appeal. I swing my chair around and look out of the window. Most of the view is the depressing brown tenements across the road. One day I’ll flatten them and make a park, or maybe I could just paint them sky blue and pretend they are not there.
A loud knock raps hard on the conference room door “Come in” I yell without turning around. I remember suddenly a lecture about how acting arrogant and omniscient can get you shot in the back and quickly spin around.
Thorella is striding up the room towards me. Now that I know she’s Bethany I can see it clearly despite the transformation changes. She stands about 30cm taller than Bethany. Her thick golden hair is braided and plaited on the right side of her head. A tiny scalemail bikini and thong are complimented by thick bronze bracers on her wrists. I have no idea where she found knee high fur topped barbarian boots with 12cm heels but oddly they work. I notice her sword sticking over her worryingly powerful shoulder, she seems to have added a lot of muscle mass.
“Err, do I have an appointment with you Mrs.....?” I say in a somewhat less confident manner than I planned.
She frowns the exact same frown that Bethany makes “Thorella, just Thorella, it’s a mononym and yes you do, at least you do now”
She comes to a stop and sits on the edge of the table. It bows alarmingly but fortunately doesn’t snap.
“I’ve heard good things about you Mr Lowendachs” she says
Which is oddly reassuring.
“You’re bringing opportunity to this area and you’re not afraid to take a principled stand on equality” she says.
I’m not sure if she’s complimenting our hiring practices or making a clumsy veiled threat.
“I just wanted to stop by and reassure you that the superhero community values civic minded citizens”
Err right I think as I stare at her.
“Your head of HR has told me a lot about you” she says
“Oh yes Bethany has been a breath of fresh air, we’re very pleased with her, good head on her shoulders, I think she’ll go far, I’m actually worried she’ll leave us for a bigger player” I say feigning worry.
Thorella scoffs “Oh I wouldn’t worry I’m sure Bethany prefers building a progressive company to being a cog”
“That’s good to know” I say “Hey, why don’t I get her up here, you can say hello” I say moving my hand to lift the phone .
A look of sudden concern flashes across her face. She defaults to her standard distraction technique. Her hand jumps to her bra, jerking it aside to release a massive mammary.
“I’ll catch up with her later” says Thorella. She slips her other tit out and lurches forward ramming my head between the 2 flesh mountains.
“I noticed you don’t wear a wedding ring, you know, it’s so hard to meet a good man in Megaburgh” she mutters wistfully.
I realise that I’m in danger of imminent smothering. I try to pull away but either she doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. My money is on the later.
“And when all your free time is spent fighting crime and keeping the riff raff in check there’s not much time for fun, do you like fun Mr Lowendachs? Mr Lowendachs?”
She pulls my head away and I dimly perceive a quizzical expression at the end of the rapidly shrinking tunnel that passes for my sight.
“Oh bother, not again” she murmurs
I dread to think of how many pets died in that embrace.
“Don’t you die on me too” she declares as she leans forward. Her mouth clamps over mine and I get a distinct taste of salty liquorice before she commences CPR. I assume it’s CPR. She might be trying to explode my chest. My lungs strain at their seams to contain the never-ending breath she blasts into me. She pulls back and cracks her knuckles. I realise she’s going to do chest compressions. My life flashes before my eyes. I slow down and rewind to take in her great tits before survival instinct forces my body into action. I cough and wave an arm.
“Are you okay?” she asks
“Yes, yes” I cough
No no I mean, you clumsy bitch.
“Sorry sometimes my breasts take people by surprise” she says entirely unapologetically
Yeah, right love, surprise. Nothing to do with your crushing bear hug, suspiciously large hands and utter cluelessness.
“Quite alright, my fault entirely” I wheeze “Was there anything else?”
She tucks, not without difficulty, her massive rack back into her bikini top “Err, no, I’ll let you get back to work. Keep up the good work and don’t be afraid” she strikes a heroic pose and I hate myself a bit for being impressed “You have powerful friends good citizen who are ever ready to come to your aid”
Last edited by lionbadger 3 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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lionbadger
- Legendary Member
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4.
I’m glad I sprung for the big tv. It dominates the wall as Neuro, Boojum, Alpha Bitch and me watch the security recording. Neuro offers me some paprika pringles. I push them away shaking my head and dig into a monster bag of M&Ms. Alpha Bitch shushes us. The security recording starts, it shows our head of HR, Bethany Svensson ducking inside a storeroom. The recording cuts to the camera inside the room. Bethany glances around checking the room is empty before she pulls out a small sword with a glittering gem set in the crossguard. She thrusts the sword above her head and mouths something.
“What did she say?” I ask
“By the strength of Valhalla” says Neuro
“Looked like ‘where’s my umbrella’ to me” said Boojum
“Both good guesses” I murmur
Blazing blue light streams from the gem falling as a shower of sparks around Bethany. A coiling white dragon of light begins to spiral down from the sword. As it passes over Bethany she adds 30cm of height and some serious muscle mass. Her sword goes from glorified dagger to Conan prop. It’s also the quickest woman’s wardrobe change I’ve ever seen, pencil skirt and blouse are replaced by fur topped boots and chainmail beach wear.
We watch what is now Thorella leave the storeroom and the feed cuts to the hall showing her return to the meeting room and knocking on the door.
“It can’t be that easy” I say
“It appears so” says Neuro “Take the sword, or even just the gem I suspect and no more Thorella”
“Kitty!” barks Alpha Bitch as her slave concubine pops up beside her “fetch a mallet!”
“Hold on a minute” I quickly say trying to ignore Kitty’s angry hiss “Let’s see the next one”
Neuro taps his laptop and a second surveillance video queues up. We see the senior manager for purchasing, Deborah Devine. The late twenties woman has thick glasses and a simple brown bob cut. A thick woollen sweater wraps her body and there’s no telling what might be under there. I only know for sure she’s a woman because she’s called Deborah.
“I didn’t know there was a Librarian Woman protecting the city from late returns” sneers Alpha Bitch
“I admit that I was surprised by this one too” says Neuro
Deborah scurries stoop shouldered out of the office block next to the main warehouse and turns left. She slips down the side of the building and ducks behind a discarded shipping container. As soon as she is sure she’s out of sight she straightens up. She must be touching 6ft. Her hand whips the brown bob wig off and she frees a mass of shining golden curls from a hair net. Her sweater and shapeless trousers are off almost as quickly to reveal a gold and white strapless bra crammed full of mammary. A bikini thong covers her snatch and a thigh high boot reaches up her right leg. A stilletto heel is the only thing on her left leg. She touches the watch on her left arm and it distorts into a sun emblazoned ovoid shield that spans her fore arm. She produces an axe from somewhere to clutch in her right hand. Finally she touches something on the side of her bra and pair of huge angelic wings sprout from her back.
“The wings are mechanical, attached to some sort of back pack, not her body” says Neuro nonchalantly
“Devine Duchess and Thorella are working here?” I say
“And Ms Atomica” says Neuro as he flicks to a 3rd video “
A stream of Susanna Adrete bathing herself in a crackling nimbus of yellow lightening to transform into her alter ego fills the screen. The raven haired southerner sports her blue and white jump suit with gaudy gold elbow and shoulder pads. An apparently aesthetic belt is draped loosely around her waist.
She glances around and then stops to look right at the camera. She cocks her head.
“Shit! She noticed the camera?” I ask wondering why she hasn’t already stormed in and boiled us with nuclear rays.
“Err, no” says Neuro “The camera was hidden in a poster for vagi-wash. In addition to confirming her identity we added possible feminine hygiene issues to her file. Understandable really if your body is constantly running red hot from nuclear power”
“Great, so we just get rid of all the yoghurt in Megaburgh and we’ve beaten Ms Atomica” I mutter “Anymore?”
The tv switches to a goggle wearing redhead in oil spattered dungarees. She slaps the side of one of our pitifully few second hand delivery trucks and the aging vehicle splutters to life. A light flashes on her watch and she sighs, glances around then pops the fastener on her dungarees. Her oily white top comes over her head quickly followed by her bra as her knickers are simultaneously kicked off. I note that she’s remarkably well groomed for a grease monkey then watch in horror as she doubles over with a look of pain on her face. Her grimacing face snaps up and I see elongating fangs fill her mouth. Her eyes have gone red and she seems to be expanding. In moments a huge golden skinned beast rises to it’s feet. A magnificent mane of deep red hair spills from her head and looking at her chest it’s clearly a she, the red fur is also present along her forearms and lower legs. Her hands and feet end in wickedly sharp claws.
“I don’t know who that is” I say
“dats Golden Beast, she’s pretty new” rumbles Boojum
The name rings a bell.
“I always wanted a pet” he continues
“Then you should get one, they’re great” says Alpha Bitch idly stroking Kitty’s hair
Boojum looks at me and suddenly the man mountain reminds me of a 5 year old kid “Can we keep her Mr Lowendachs”
“Err” I say as a horrible image of me having to walk the heroine and urgh, clean up, fills my mind “We’ll see, Neuro, is that it? Just the 4 super powered sociopathic vigilantes right in the heart of our criminal enterprise”
“Ah” says Neuro
“What do you mean by Ah” I say, my stomach sinking
“There is one more but we need to get rid of her” he says as he clicks the tv control.
A petite brunette comes up. She’s sitting at a desk taking calls and soothing irate customers. She returns the phone to its cradle and stares out the window for a minute. Her eyebrow cocks and she raises her fingers to her temples. She frowns then stands up and ducks out of the office. A second camera view shows her slipping into one of our excessively many supply closets. The screen cuts again to show her slipping out of her clothes, tucking them on a shelf and pulling on a purple and yellow bodysuit. A purple mask is quickly wrapped across her eyes.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I yell “You hired Psygaze? You put a telepathic superhero who can shoot mind bullets in the middle of a villainous lair! As a, a? A what does she do?”
“She’s in customer service, came highly recommended, Bethany err, loved her, err, ah” says Neuro
“Great, so HR won’t fire their little buddy and if you try to fire her she’ll read your mind and change it!” I yell, barely a month into this mad plan and we’re on the verge of being shut down by one of our supposedly tame supers.
“I’ll get rid of her” says Alpha Bitch inspecting her nails “She’ll never know what hit her”
“And if you fail that little superskank will pull all our secrets from your brain, this isn’t like taking out the bored, lonely former socialite Catgirl, Veronica, no offence Kitty” I mutter the last bit under my breath “This is a full on supernatural, powered up, veteran crime fighter who will be missed by her friends, super”
“Yeah, but I got an angle” drawls Alpha Bitch “And don’t call me Veronica”
“What’s your angle?” says Neuro genuinely interested
“Better you don’t know, but I reckon I’m gonna need to get fired” she says “At least publicly”
“I've been considering that” I say glancing at Neuro "I mean, not so much fired as moved off site, somewhere that your talents are better applied"
“No shit?” she replies cocking an eyebrow
“You’re the natural choice to ramp up our first off books subsidiary” says Neuro
“Good thinking boys” replies Alpha Bitch “This stuffy corporate stuff is driving me nuts, I wanna do something bad”
"Tell me about it" I mumble
Neuro glances at me then rolls his eyes. An idea pops into my mind.
“Well, then let’s fire you” I say to Alpha Bitch as I tap at the conference phone on the desk “uh, hi, Bethany? sorry to bother you” I say
“No bother at all Kaiser” she replies “What can I do for you?”
Kaiser, how very informal, I ignore the irritation and continue “Could you come up to meeting room Rainbow, we’ve got a bit of an HR incident and need your input”
“Oh sounds serious!” she says in a far too happy voice
“I’m afraid so, Veronica” I nearly say Alpha Bitch “Just broke the VP operations’ nose”
“Oh, I’m on my way” she says gleefully
Neuro looks at me “Good move” he mutters before Alpha Bitch slams her fist into his face. She frowns, pulls her arm back and hits him again.
Neuro glares at her “Maybe we could get your a roll of quarters?” he sneers through gritted teeth
Alpha Bitch glares daggers then clicks her fingers “Kitty!” she yells “Snap!”
Kitty springs to her feet and bounds across the office in a blur. She lands in Neuro’s lap, grabs his ears then powers her forehead into his nose. His face distorts with a sickening crunch.
“Holy fuck you crazy little bitch! I’ll have you spayed” he screams as a tidal wave of blood erupts down his face.
“Good Kitty, down” says Alpha Bitch returning Kitty to a kneeling position behind her.
“Huh, that should do it” I murmur
A few moments later Bethany Svensson, director of human resources for Globo Dynamics LLC and secret identity of Thorella practically skips into the conference room. “Sorry it took so long I got mixed up with meeting room Unicorn and... Odin’s beard she did that?!”
“Yes” I say “Obviously this is a serious incident but I wanted to consult with you before taking any rash actions, I mean, the corporate world is very stressful and tempers fray plus I hate to be too hard on our youngest exec”
Bethany looks at me like I’m a lost child “I’m sorry Kaiser but this is a serious assault, the only option is immediate dismissal”
“Oh dear, are you sure” I say trying not to chuckle
“This prissy cunt on legs wouldn’t be sure that 5 + 6 made 11 unless she took her socks off” spits Alpha Bitch caustically.
“Oh very sure” says Bethany with a smug smile
“Oh dear then I’m sorry Veronica but we can’t have violence in this workplace, I’m afraid you’re fired, effective immediately” I say in mock horror
“You think I need this job you jumped up suit! Your kind will get yours! You’ll be sorry you crossed me” she yells “Kitty come, no not that, just follow me!”
The pair stomp out of the room in a cloud of expletives and threats.
“Between us” Bethany says turning to me “I never liked her, I did some background checks and discovered that she’s been in and out of prison since she was 14, clearly a bad apple”
“What did she do at 14?” I ask genuinely interested for once.
“Shoplifting, stole a load of cans, gave some boo hoo story about her family. They always do these types” says Bethany off handedly
Typical fucking super, heart of stone for anyone not living on their knees. Cunt.
“We’re better off without her and her weird little, err, assistant” says Bethany
“Maybe you’re right I say, do you mind helping Mr Fletcher get a cab to the hospital” I say
Her frown makes it clear that she considers dirtying her hands with actually doing something useful to be grunt work but she eventually smiles and agrees. She helps Neuro out of his chair and out of the office.
Boojum throws me a phone. I look at the caller. ‘Alfa Ronica’ it says.
“Hello?” I say
“Think she bought it?” comes Alpha Bitch’s voice
“Yes, 100% yes” I answer "You'll need to tell me about your juve record when you get the chance"
"That bitch went through my history?" Asks Alpha Bitch angrily
"Well, in fairness HR is supposed to check new employees" I say
"Yeah, but she joined after I did" says Alpha Bitch "She's definitely at the top of my shit list now"
"2nd on your shit list" I correct "You said you could handle Psygaze?"
"Yeah, okay" replies Alpha Bitch "I've got some stuff to grab from my apartment but after that I'll need a place to hole up"
“Define place" I say
"Anywhere, just a place I can stash myself, a bit of space would be good too, something industrial ideally" she replies
"You know the old Horgen Sausages factory?” I ask
"Yeah, I know it" she says "That's be perfect"
“Great cause that's going to be your hq”
“Spiffy” she replies “See you there”
"One more thing" I say before she rings off "Have you ever recruited a gang?"
I’m glad I sprung for the big tv. It dominates the wall as Neuro, Boojum, Alpha Bitch and me watch the security recording. Neuro offers me some paprika pringles. I push them away shaking my head and dig into a monster bag of M&Ms. Alpha Bitch shushes us. The security recording starts, it shows our head of HR, Bethany Svensson ducking inside a storeroom. The recording cuts to the camera inside the room. Bethany glances around checking the room is empty before she pulls out a small sword with a glittering gem set in the crossguard. She thrusts the sword above her head and mouths something.
“What did she say?” I ask
“By the strength of Valhalla” says Neuro
“Looked like ‘where’s my umbrella’ to me” said Boojum
“Both good guesses” I murmur
Blazing blue light streams from the gem falling as a shower of sparks around Bethany. A coiling white dragon of light begins to spiral down from the sword. As it passes over Bethany she adds 30cm of height and some serious muscle mass. Her sword goes from glorified dagger to Conan prop. It’s also the quickest woman’s wardrobe change I’ve ever seen, pencil skirt and blouse are replaced by fur topped boots and chainmail beach wear.
We watch what is now Thorella leave the storeroom and the feed cuts to the hall showing her return to the meeting room and knocking on the door.
“It can’t be that easy” I say
“It appears so” says Neuro “Take the sword, or even just the gem I suspect and no more Thorella”
“Kitty!” barks Alpha Bitch as her slave concubine pops up beside her “fetch a mallet!”
“Hold on a minute” I quickly say trying to ignore Kitty’s angry hiss “Let’s see the next one”
Neuro taps his laptop and a second surveillance video queues up. We see the senior manager for purchasing, Deborah Devine. The late twenties woman has thick glasses and a simple brown bob cut. A thick woollen sweater wraps her body and there’s no telling what might be under there. I only know for sure she’s a woman because she’s called Deborah.
“I didn’t know there was a Librarian Woman protecting the city from late returns” sneers Alpha Bitch
“I admit that I was surprised by this one too” says Neuro
Deborah scurries stoop shouldered out of the office block next to the main warehouse and turns left. She slips down the side of the building and ducks behind a discarded shipping container. As soon as she is sure she’s out of sight she straightens up. She must be touching 6ft. Her hand whips the brown bob wig off and she frees a mass of shining golden curls from a hair net. Her sweater and shapeless trousers are off almost as quickly to reveal a gold and white strapless bra crammed full of mammary. A bikini thong covers her snatch and a thigh high boot reaches up her right leg. A stilletto heel is the only thing on her left leg. She touches the watch on her left arm and it distorts into a sun emblazoned ovoid shield that spans her fore arm. She produces an axe from somewhere to clutch in her right hand. Finally she touches something on the side of her bra and pair of huge angelic wings sprout from her back.
“The wings are mechanical, attached to some sort of back pack, not her body” says Neuro nonchalantly
“Devine Duchess and Thorella are working here?” I say
“And Ms Atomica” says Neuro as he flicks to a 3rd video “
A stream of Susanna Adrete bathing herself in a crackling nimbus of yellow lightening to transform into her alter ego fills the screen. The raven haired southerner sports her blue and white jump suit with gaudy gold elbow and shoulder pads. An apparently aesthetic belt is draped loosely around her waist.
She glances around and then stops to look right at the camera. She cocks her head.
“Shit! She noticed the camera?” I ask wondering why she hasn’t already stormed in and boiled us with nuclear rays.
“Err, no” says Neuro “The camera was hidden in a poster for vagi-wash. In addition to confirming her identity we added possible feminine hygiene issues to her file. Understandable really if your body is constantly running red hot from nuclear power”
“Great, so we just get rid of all the yoghurt in Megaburgh and we’ve beaten Ms Atomica” I mutter “Anymore?”
The tv switches to a goggle wearing redhead in oil spattered dungarees. She slaps the side of one of our pitifully few second hand delivery trucks and the aging vehicle splutters to life. A light flashes on her watch and she sighs, glances around then pops the fastener on her dungarees. Her oily white top comes over her head quickly followed by her bra as her knickers are simultaneously kicked off. I note that she’s remarkably well groomed for a grease monkey then watch in horror as she doubles over with a look of pain on her face. Her grimacing face snaps up and I see elongating fangs fill her mouth. Her eyes have gone red and she seems to be expanding. In moments a huge golden skinned beast rises to it’s feet. A magnificent mane of deep red hair spills from her head and looking at her chest it’s clearly a she, the red fur is also present along her forearms and lower legs. Her hands and feet end in wickedly sharp claws.
“I don’t know who that is” I say
“dats Golden Beast, she’s pretty new” rumbles Boojum
The name rings a bell.
“I always wanted a pet” he continues
“Then you should get one, they’re great” says Alpha Bitch idly stroking Kitty’s hair
Boojum looks at me and suddenly the man mountain reminds me of a 5 year old kid “Can we keep her Mr Lowendachs”
“Err” I say as a horrible image of me having to walk the heroine and urgh, clean up, fills my mind “We’ll see, Neuro, is that it? Just the 4 super powered sociopathic vigilantes right in the heart of our criminal enterprise”
“Ah” says Neuro
“What do you mean by Ah” I say, my stomach sinking
“There is one more but we need to get rid of her” he says as he clicks the tv control.
A petite brunette comes up. She’s sitting at a desk taking calls and soothing irate customers. She returns the phone to its cradle and stares out the window for a minute. Her eyebrow cocks and she raises her fingers to her temples. She frowns then stands up and ducks out of the office. A second camera view shows her slipping into one of our excessively many supply closets. The screen cuts again to show her slipping out of her clothes, tucking them on a shelf and pulling on a purple and yellow bodysuit. A purple mask is quickly wrapped across her eyes.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I yell “You hired Psygaze? You put a telepathic superhero who can shoot mind bullets in the middle of a villainous lair! As a, a? A what does she do?”
“She’s in customer service, came highly recommended, Bethany err, loved her, err, ah” says Neuro
“Great, so HR won’t fire their little buddy and if you try to fire her she’ll read your mind and change it!” I yell, barely a month into this mad plan and we’re on the verge of being shut down by one of our supposedly tame supers.
“I’ll get rid of her” says Alpha Bitch inspecting her nails “She’ll never know what hit her”
“And if you fail that little superskank will pull all our secrets from your brain, this isn’t like taking out the bored, lonely former socialite Catgirl, Veronica, no offence Kitty” I mutter the last bit under my breath “This is a full on supernatural, powered up, veteran crime fighter who will be missed by her friends, super”
“Yeah, but I got an angle” drawls Alpha Bitch “And don’t call me Veronica”
“What’s your angle?” says Neuro genuinely interested
“Better you don’t know, but I reckon I’m gonna need to get fired” she says “At least publicly”
“I've been considering that” I say glancing at Neuro "I mean, not so much fired as moved off site, somewhere that your talents are better applied"
“No shit?” she replies cocking an eyebrow
“You’re the natural choice to ramp up our first off books subsidiary” says Neuro
“Good thinking boys” replies Alpha Bitch “This stuffy corporate stuff is driving me nuts, I wanna do something bad”
"Tell me about it" I mumble
Neuro glances at me then rolls his eyes. An idea pops into my mind.
“Well, then let’s fire you” I say to Alpha Bitch as I tap at the conference phone on the desk “uh, hi, Bethany? sorry to bother you” I say
“No bother at all Kaiser” she replies “What can I do for you?”
Kaiser, how very informal, I ignore the irritation and continue “Could you come up to meeting room Rainbow, we’ve got a bit of an HR incident and need your input”
“Oh sounds serious!” she says in a far too happy voice
“I’m afraid so, Veronica” I nearly say Alpha Bitch “Just broke the VP operations’ nose”
“Oh, I’m on my way” she says gleefully
Neuro looks at me “Good move” he mutters before Alpha Bitch slams her fist into his face. She frowns, pulls her arm back and hits him again.
Neuro glares at her “Maybe we could get your a roll of quarters?” he sneers through gritted teeth
Alpha Bitch glares daggers then clicks her fingers “Kitty!” she yells “Snap!”
Kitty springs to her feet and bounds across the office in a blur. She lands in Neuro’s lap, grabs his ears then powers her forehead into his nose. His face distorts with a sickening crunch.
“Holy fuck you crazy little bitch! I’ll have you spayed” he screams as a tidal wave of blood erupts down his face.
“Good Kitty, down” says Alpha Bitch returning Kitty to a kneeling position behind her.
“Huh, that should do it” I murmur
A few moments later Bethany Svensson, director of human resources for Globo Dynamics LLC and secret identity of Thorella practically skips into the conference room. “Sorry it took so long I got mixed up with meeting room Unicorn and... Odin’s beard she did that?!”
“Yes” I say “Obviously this is a serious incident but I wanted to consult with you before taking any rash actions, I mean, the corporate world is very stressful and tempers fray plus I hate to be too hard on our youngest exec”
Bethany looks at me like I’m a lost child “I’m sorry Kaiser but this is a serious assault, the only option is immediate dismissal”
“Oh dear, are you sure” I say trying not to chuckle
“This prissy cunt on legs wouldn’t be sure that 5 + 6 made 11 unless she took her socks off” spits Alpha Bitch caustically.
“Oh very sure” says Bethany with a smug smile
“Oh dear then I’m sorry Veronica but we can’t have violence in this workplace, I’m afraid you’re fired, effective immediately” I say in mock horror
“You think I need this job you jumped up suit! Your kind will get yours! You’ll be sorry you crossed me” she yells “Kitty come, no not that, just follow me!”
The pair stomp out of the room in a cloud of expletives and threats.
“Between us” Bethany says turning to me “I never liked her, I did some background checks and discovered that she’s been in and out of prison since she was 14, clearly a bad apple”
“What did she do at 14?” I ask genuinely interested for once.
“Shoplifting, stole a load of cans, gave some boo hoo story about her family. They always do these types” says Bethany off handedly
Typical fucking super, heart of stone for anyone not living on their knees. Cunt.
“We’re better off without her and her weird little, err, assistant” says Bethany
“Maybe you’re right I say, do you mind helping Mr Fletcher get a cab to the hospital” I say
Her frown makes it clear that she considers dirtying her hands with actually doing something useful to be grunt work but she eventually smiles and agrees. She helps Neuro out of his chair and out of the office.
Boojum throws me a phone. I look at the caller. ‘Alfa Ronica’ it says.
“Hello?” I say
“Think she bought it?” comes Alpha Bitch’s voice
“Yes, 100% yes” I answer "You'll need to tell me about your juve record when you get the chance"
"That bitch went through my history?" Asks Alpha Bitch angrily
"Well, in fairness HR is supposed to check new employees" I say
"Yeah, but she joined after I did" says Alpha Bitch "She's definitely at the top of my shit list now"
"2nd on your shit list" I correct "You said you could handle Psygaze?"
"Yeah, okay" replies Alpha Bitch "I've got some stuff to grab from my apartment but after that I'll need a place to hole up"
“Define place" I say
"Anywhere, just a place I can stash myself, a bit of space would be good too, something industrial ideally" she replies
"You know the old Horgen Sausages factory?” I ask
"Yeah, I know it" she says "That's be perfect"
“Great cause that's going to be your hq”
“Spiffy” she replies “See you there”
"One more thing" I say before she rings off "Have you ever recruited a gang?"
-
lionbadger
- Legendary Member
- Posts: 786
- Joined: 12 years ago
5.
The old Horgan Sausage factory is across the river and a little to the north of Globo Dynamics. Sane people don’t go north of the river in this area. It's been a socio-economic wreck for as long as I can remember. The factory itself is a dilapidated mess. Graffiti is scrawled everywhere and one of the tall furnace chimneys that used to feed the smoke house has collapsed into the river creating a sort of brick and rubble jetty. The widows are thick with grime and the corrugated shutter doors of the loading dock are flaking with rust. Something bugs me about those windows but I can't put my finger on it. I wonder idly how Alpha Bitch is getting on. She promised she could get rid of Psygaze and, despite being my newest recruit, I let her have the job. I thought she’d have at least tidied her lair up a bit.
Boojum (I might be a crime lord but I'm not coming up here on my own!) raps on the rusty brown side door. An eye slit whips open and two beady eyes inspect us from inside a balaclava. I open my mouth to speak but the eye slit snaps shut and we can hear frantic mumbling. I sigh and start to ask Boojum to knock again when suddenly the door opens and the owner of the eyes bows deeply waving us forward. Inside the factory it’s like we've entered a different world. The internal machinery has been cleared away and I realise the windows are grimed from the inside. They've got glass, that's what was bugging me. The site is a vandalised derelict squat but all the windows had glass. The huge internal empty space has a raised dais at one end with an archaic throne constructed from the various blades and pulpers of the mincing machines. It looks like a blunt invitation to acquire haemorrhoids if you ask me. Sinister black jump suit and balaclava wearing henchmen are dotted at random intervals around the place. They clutch long birch wood batons with gleaming metal caps on the end. A handful seem to be supervising a quivering group of naked captives who kneel before the throne with heads pressed to the floor. Every now and then one moves and raises his head slightly drawing furious yells from the supervisors and a vicious beating.
Alpha Bitch, and honestly there is no mistaking her now for the former waitress Veronica, enters the room from somewhere, I guess a freezer unit? She’s clad in a black leather catsuit, a dark red utility belt resting around her waist and hips. A vicious looking splayed end whip is coiled on the right hip. There is enough cleavage pushing out of her slightly unzipped top to lose an army in. Her head is covered from the nose up in a leather hood and her bleached blonde hair protrudes like a horse tail from a hole at the top of her hood. The metal heels of her stilettos click on the cold floor as she walks towards the cringing supplicants. I notice her henchmen lower their heads as she passes. Kitty walks behind her. She seems to have become more feral and protective since I last saw her. She’s clad in the same black catsuit and it looks like she's wearing her old catgirl cowl. Her fingers are tipped with gleaming jewelled claws and an array of knives sit in the belt about her waist.
I'm sure Alpha Bitch knows I'm here. She’s blatantly timed her entrance for my benefit but she still makes a huge show of suddenly noticing me.
“Ah! The Overfiend himself!” she cries throwing her arms up and turning towards me. She clips quickly across the concrete. I file Overfiend away as a possible villain moniker.
She strides up to me and throws her arms around me in a sensual embrace “Play along” she whispers into my ear “I’ve got this”. Her hands run up my back and wriggle through my hair. I’m too shocked to say anything before her lips clamp on mine and she gives the most overplayed film snog I’ve ever witnessed. I feel her compacted tits pushing against my chest as her tongue whips around my mouth. Not that I’m complaining. And nor do I stop my own hands sliding down her back to grab her arse. Predictably Kitty hisses. Boojum cracks his knuckles. I'm not sure who'd win in a scrap between them.
Alpha Bitch breaks off and drapes herself down my right side. She raises my hand above my head like she’s displaying the prize in some cheesy gameshow. A cheer dutifully erupts from her henchmen. This I could get used to. Granted I've no idea who the fuck these people are, random gangers she's clothed and fed I guess, but fans are fans. She drops my hand and motions me to follow. We walk across the huge space and ascend a steel gantry to the old office that used to overlook the factory floor. We enter the office. It’s decorated in red velvets and satin blacks. A large desk dominates the centre of the room. I guess the door at the far end is probably to her bedroom. Alpha Bitch plants herself on the edge of the desk and motions to a chair. I pull it out and plonk myself down. Kitty moves to her side and slides down to her knees placing her head in her mistress’ lap.
“You like it?” she asks me
“You’ve certainly been busy” I say “How the hell did you fund all this on 10K or is that a stupid question? Did you get your henchmen to go steal it all?”
“My beta dogs” she says with a grin “You like them”
“Sorry your beta dogs” it takes every ounce of self-control not to roll my eyes.
“No, I funded this with my beta dogs” she says enjoying my confused look “You saw the latest round of applicants downstairs, the ones worshiping my throne”
“Err, what?” I say slowly
“Well, it’s simple really, I find bored, stressed out men, err, mostly men anyway. I break them and make them utterly loyal to me” she strokes Kitty’s head “It starts off as a sort of game but once I hook them then I can make them transfer literally all their worldly possessions, wealth etc to me”
“That’s horrifying” I say, trying to hide that I’m actually a little impressed “It’s like you’ve created a cult round yourself”
“Yes, that’s the model exactly, I copied the Temple of Scientification” she says proudly
“And these were all just single vulnerable men?” I ask
Kitty sniggers. From behind me. Shit, how did she get there?
“Well, not all single, in fact quite a few, especially the influential ones who are out earning me some tributes are, well, were in relationships” she says slowly
“Were in relationships?” I ask slowly
Alpha Bitch sighs “There’s sort of a meatlocker full of bodies down stairs”
“Sort of?” I ask now somewhat worried for my own skin. I glance at Boojum, he can probably take on pretty heavy odds but there’s basically an army of fanatics in here.
“Ok” says Alpha Bitch quietly “There’s a meat locker downstairs with a lot of women and a surprising number of men who are no longer alive in it”
I feel like I should be mortified but I realise that I’m actually not. Not sure how much of that is survival instinct and how much is contempt for the 1% of Megaburgh that Alpha Bitch is preying on. If I’m honest, I'm really a little intoxicated. My gang has wiped out or enslaved, an admittedly small slice, of the sneering elites of Megaburgh. I’m a little worried by my reaction but I squash it. I’m also tempted to ask how many bodies but what if it’s high and I don’t care. I look at Alpha Bitch and consider Kitty behind me. Alpha Bitch’s eyes are impossible to read. I recall a lesson, you need to trust your lieutenants, at least to a point.
“There can only be one Alpha Bitch in this town” I say finally
She grins madly and I wonder just how much crazy might actually be in that head “I hoped you’d say something like that” she says, “because I've got one more room”
***
We descend from the office and enter Alpha Bitch's improvised prison. It’s a fairly simple set up. Captives hang by their wrists from the meat hooks that dominate the former freezer. The horrible smell of defrosted and spoiled meat must really add to the terror. The hooks are on runners, originally so carcasses could be moved easily to the mincing machines and now functioning to drag captives out of their corners for interrogation. I don't really care who the handful of random people in hoods hanging from hooks are but in the middle of the room is the yellow and purple suited Psygaze. She seems to have a bucket on her head.
“What’s that on her...” I start to say
“Lead. It’s a lead slop bucket, probably from an old animal transport. I did some research lead's supposed to fuck up psychic abilities” says Alpha Bitch smugly “And since nobody has had the sudden thought to release this self-important cum sack or go on a murder spree I guess it works”
“Good intel” I say “And now what? You’re going to make a playmate for Kitty?”
“Oh no, this bitch is too dangerous” says Alpha Bitch as she walks forward and strokes Psygaze’s chest. A muffled grunt of protest comes from the bucket. “This one’s going in the sausage maker!”
"You're going to kill her? That might bring a lot of heat" I say
"Meh, once she's sausages nobody will find a body and they'll probably think she just ran off, cracked under the stress or something" says Alpha Bitch nonchalantly.
I have a horrible realisation "Err, do you have an actual working sausage maker here?"
"Yes, I said that" says Alpha Bitch "Well, the first bit will do the job, I think they call it a wolf? We don't have to make actual sausages out of her, do we?"
"Err, no" I say
Psygaze mumbles and struggles.
"What did she say?" I ask
"Something about organic herbs" I think says Boojum
I eye him. Not a flicker of emotion is present on his face.
"Err, one thing" I say to Alpha Bitch jerking my thumb at Psygaze "Maybe I could get a quick feel of those tits?"
"Absolutely, go nuts" she says whipping the zipper on the front of the doomed hero's suit down.
***
I return to Globo Dynamics a little flushed and giddy. They really were great tits and I can't stop thinking about how they'd taste. Probably more turkey than pulled pork, they're breasts after all. I admire my HQ as we drive in. The complex looks much better than when I bought it. The huge drydock and warehouse the dominates the complex has been cleaned and painted. The Globo Dynamics sign hangs proudly across the front. The refurbished and recently expanded kitchens on my right are churning out shakes in a well-oiled operation. The old customs offices over on the left are now modern office spaces mostly for the various heroines that Neuro has employed under our mad affirmative action scheme. Next to them is the small garage to repair vehicles. Near the water on the right side of the building, work is nearly complete converting the old fuel and chemical processing plant into labs. It's amazing what you can do with prefabs these days.
As I get out of my car a huge articulated lorry roars out of the front of the warehouse. We’re almost hovering around the breaking even. If we hold on for another quarter we’ll be able to post a profit and once we have a profit I can expand. Or finally get some scientists to build me a death ray!
I enter the drydock and take the lift up 3 stories of open space until it passes into the office layers. I ascend past the finance team floor and reach the executive offices, and my own living quarters, in the top of the huge building. I step out of the lift and almost walk right into Bethany. The red head grease monkey that turns into some sort of creature is with her. They make a ridiculous pair.
“Oh, sorry Bethany” I say stumbling forward and brushing against her massive tits “Are you and, err, your friend here looking for me?”
“Kaiser, yes, actually me and Barbara need to ask you something” she says nervously
My first thought is that “it’s Barbara and I” you thicko. My second is to wonder what a threesome with a Norse goddess and a demon lioness would be like.
“Certainly, what can I do?” I say instead
“It’s Hatsumi, she’s missing” says Bethany
Fuck. They must be talking about Psygaze.
“Sorry who is Hatsumi” I say
“She’s in customer service” purrs Barbara, her voice is like hot molten caramel poured right in my crotch. Fucking over sexualised supers! “She hasn’t come in today and she’s not answering her... cell phone”
“Why did you, err you paused there, err, before you said cell?” I say as a look of horror crosses their faces “Never mind, probably she’s just got a cold or something”
“Yeah” says Bethany vaguely “she’s not the sort of person who really get colds”
“Plus, I was making some, err, repairs to her car. She was due to pick it up at lunch time but she never showed” says Barbara
Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck! Why are they asking me about this? They’re fucking superheroine crime fighters who solve these things every day. They must know. They must knowww! Oh fuck how guilty do I look. Oh shit can the monster one smell tits from my hands? I stuff my hands into my pockets then think it makes me look guilty. I try to pull a thoughtful face. Fuck, what if they aren't buying it. Maybe, maybe it’s not too late. Alpha Bitch probably decided to play around with Psygaze, yeah, she’s not sausages yet, I’ll call her, call this mad plan off. Shit, shit, shit!
“Are you okay Kaiser?” says Bethany as I realise I’ve been silently staring at them and pulling random faces and jabbing my hands in my pockets.
“Yes” I say in a loud squeak before forcing calm and concern into my voice “Yes, fine but I’m still sure Hatsumi is fine although if you’re really concerned why not pop round to her house and check on her yourselves?”
Bethany smiles “That’s just what we came to ask, thanks Kaiser, you’re the best boss ever!”
Barbara smiles at me. Her incisors are slightly too long. Then she runs her impossibly long tongue around her lips. Fucking supers!
The pair brush past me into the lift and I head to my office/ conference room. It’s been a rollercoaster of a day and that pair with their damn pheromones haven’t helped. The heady mix of abject terror and massive over arousal is seriously fucking with my brain.
I enter my office and stop. Boojum is there, standing by my desk with arms folded and glaring at the man in the chair in front of my desk. The man swings nonchalantly in the chair his white high collared coat contrasting with skin so dark that it is giving off a blue shine. His infuriatingly perfect face sports a huge marble white grin. I feign that I’m ignoring him, walk past and slump into my chair. My beloved posturepedic chair. I scramble in my top drawer for some antihistamines, the closest thing we currently have to anti super pheromone pills and gob 4. I shouldn't go so hard on the dose, these things can make you start hallucinating and that's the last thing I need. I glance at Boojum who continues his statue impression. I dial 0 on my phone and ask for pots of tea and coffee. Then I slump back in my chair looking at the man. I notice a thin dark purple line traces the edges of his white coat.
“Mondays eh?” I say
The man nods “Personally I hate Tuesdays more”
"really" I say trying to place his accent "for me it's all downhill after Monday"
"In theory you're rested and can face Monday" the man replies "by Wednesday half the week is gone. Tuesday is the hump day"
"Interesting theory" I say "However at some point you're probably going to have to introduce yourself"
The man chuckles. Laughs at me. In my own fucking board room "You really have no idea who I am?"
“Not a one” I say “First guess was that you were here for an interview, but you’re way too sure of yourself for that”
“Your first guess was pretty close” he says. “In a way, I’m here to interview you”
“Is this about Hatsumi?” I blurt out “She’s only been missing for an afternoon officer”
“I am not a policeman” The man says “I am a Katepano, you can call me Arethus. I serve the Emperor. Just like you do”
Oh shit. The Emperor, the actual head of Byzantium reclusive, global threat to civilisation and justice, death rays and nuke sales Emperor! The guy who murdered a whole crime family with a toothbrush when he was a little kid Emperor. The has demons round for tea Emperor. The head of the organisation that I personally owe 4 million crowns to Emperor! This is his errand boy.
“I see” I say, “So what can we do for you Arethus or indeed for the Emperor, how is the big boss by the way?”
“The Emperor is eternal and he has turned his gaze from the great works that consume him to take an interest in your operation” says Arethus, undoubtedly he can see my discomfort and is enjoying this.
“Well, that’s good” I hazard “I always wanted to be interesting”
Maybe not interesting to the scariest motherfucker the world has ever known but you can't have everything.
“The Emperor, despite his august might, has never been able to establish a lasting operation in Megaburgh and yet here you are a fresh-faced graduate with an already thriving drug operation and 4 heroines on your staff” Arethus chuckles
I grin back wondering if he will get to the point. He doesn’t. “The Emperor is minded to grant you a little leniency as you establish your operation. He will be watching Mr Lowendachs. He does not suffer failure” Arethus pauses “He does however reward success. He also would greatly appreciate a delivery of fresh sausage” he says as he stands and straightens his coat.
"Of sausage?" I ask
"Yes Mr Lowendachs, the Emperor likes people to know that he knows" says Arethus "He also enjoys an afternoon bap with his tea. He despises coffee, I once saw him crucify someone who brought an espresso to a meeting. If I were you I'd get on the phone to my lieutenant and get those sausages"
He flicks a business card then he turns, nods to Boojum and walks to the door.
My pulse is racing. As soon as he's out of the room I snatch my phone from my pocket and dial Alpha Bitch “It’s me” I splutter “Have you resolved our HR conundrum yet?”
“Yes, oh sorry! Did you want to watch? The look on her face was priceless, I’ve never come so hard” replies Alpha Bitch
I grimace, bad enough being fed into a sausage machine without a mad villainess getting herself off to your demise.
“No, no it’s ok” I say
“I made a film of it” says Alpha Bitch
“Yeah right maybe later but...” I reply
“What’s your drop box account?” she says
“What? I’m not sure you want to put heroine snuff in there” I say
“Pishaw” she says "what's your account?"
“Not now! Look, did you make actual sausages?” I say
The line goes quiet for a minute “You actually want to eat her?” comes Alpha Bitch’s voice
“Not me, my, well my creditors” I say "Maybe, they might be fucking with me"
“She’s basically a pile of mince” says Alpha Bitch “I think you’d need to shovel her into a smaller machine and we’ll need sausage skins, but yeah, I guess it’s doable”
“Do it” I say “I need like a kilo”
“There’s 50 kilos of heroine meat” replies Alpha Bitch “I think it’s mostly tits”
“Ok, but then I want two packs. 1 kilo of the best for my creditor. Then another kilo, maybe cut it with pork and some herbs for the next HQ meeting" I say a twisted thought rising in my mind "You can do what you like with the rest, let kitty roll in it or whatever just don’t let it get onto the market. Someone will test it and figure out where it came from”
“You got it” says Alpha Bitch “I could get a real taste for this”
I groan at her joke and hang up.
***
I spend about a week intermittently freaking out and gloating. All internally. Hatsumi doesn’t turn up and her co heroines start freaking out. It’s been a long time since anybody took a serious shot at Megaburgh’s hero community never mind made one vanish. Some people speculate that she threw in the towel and quit the city, not as many as I'd hoped though. Oddly enough, apart from the cops interviewing the supers who worked with her the effect on Globo Dynamics is mostly positive. Furious supers turnover what are effectively our local competitors looking for answers. They seem to assume that some gangbangers got the drop on her leaving work. The rash of punishment arrests drives demand for our shakes to replace the suddenly curtailed addictive substances market. I read something about property prices rising in Konigshavn attributed to Globo Dynamics. The Mayor mumbles something about erecting a statue in the neighbourhood as he is flanked by two sinister looking supers. No mistaking where the true levers of power are in this city. On top of all that a handful of mid-tier criminal players come around sounding us out about warehouse space and logistic capacity. They play tough but it's clear that they are hurting and after a frank meeting and several glances at Boojum they leave a lot less sure of trying to screw us than they were coming in.
The Monday update meeting rolls around. I cancel it and hold a staff meeting for all departments. Everyone attends and are offered tea and a sausage bap. I make a speech about the missing Hatsumi and twist the knife a bit by hoping that Psygaze or one of the other psychic heroes will locate her. Barbara eats 3 sausage baps and declares them delicious. Bethany splurges ketchup on hers until it’s oozing out of the sides of the bun and almost certain to drench her obligatory cleavage. Susana Adrete complains about the quality of the small pot of coffee while stuffing her dead comrade into her mouth. I envy the Emperor and his no coffee policy. Despite having the build of a starving bird Neuro claims to be on a new diet and opens a tub of his own personal muesli. I take a bite of my bap, feel queasy and leave it on the side of my plate as Barbara eyes it or me hungrily.
The old Horgan Sausage factory is across the river and a little to the north of Globo Dynamics. Sane people don’t go north of the river in this area. It's been a socio-economic wreck for as long as I can remember. The factory itself is a dilapidated mess. Graffiti is scrawled everywhere and one of the tall furnace chimneys that used to feed the smoke house has collapsed into the river creating a sort of brick and rubble jetty. The widows are thick with grime and the corrugated shutter doors of the loading dock are flaking with rust. Something bugs me about those windows but I can't put my finger on it. I wonder idly how Alpha Bitch is getting on. She promised she could get rid of Psygaze and, despite being my newest recruit, I let her have the job. I thought she’d have at least tidied her lair up a bit.
Boojum (I might be a crime lord but I'm not coming up here on my own!) raps on the rusty brown side door. An eye slit whips open and two beady eyes inspect us from inside a balaclava. I open my mouth to speak but the eye slit snaps shut and we can hear frantic mumbling. I sigh and start to ask Boojum to knock again when suddenly the door opens and the owner of the eyes bows deeply waving us forward. Inside the factory it’s like we've entered a different world. The internal machinery has been cleared away and I realise the windows are grimed from the inside. They've got glass, that's what was bugging me. The site is a vandalised derelict squat but all the windows had glass. The huge internal empty space has a raised dais at one end with an archaic throne constructed from the various blades and pulpers of the mincing machines. It looks like a blunt invitation to acquire haemorrhoids if you ask me. Sinister black jump suit and balaclava wearing henchmen are dotted at random intervals around the place. They clutch long birch wood batons with gleaming metal caps on the end. A handful seem to be supervising a quivering group of naked captives who kneel before the throne with heads pressed to the floor. Every now and then one moves and raises his head slightly drawing furious yells from the supervisors and a vicious beating.
Alpha Bitch, and honestly there is no mistaking her now for the former waitress Veronica, enters the room from somewhere, I guess a freezer unit? She’s clad in a black leather catsuit, a dark red utility belt resting around her waist and hips. A vicious looking splayed end whip is coiled on the right hip. There is enough cleavage pushing out of her slightly unzipped top to lose an army in. Her head is covered from the nose up in a leather hood and her bleached blonde hair protrudes like a horse tail from a hole at the top of her hood. The metal heels of her stilettos click on the cold floor as she walks towards the cringing supplicants. I notice her henchmen lower their heads as she passes. Kitty walks behind her. She seems to have become more feral and protective since I last saw her. She’s clad in the same black catsuit and it looks like she's wearing her old catgirl cowl. Her fingers are tipped with gleaming jewelled claws and an array of knives sit in the belt about her waist.
I'm sure Alpha Bitch knows I'm here. She’s blatantly timed her entrance for my benefit but she still makes a huge show of suddenly noticing me.
“Ah! The Overfiend himself!” she cries throwing her arms up and turning towards me. She clips quickly across the concrete. I file Overfiend away as a possible villain moniker.
She strides up to me and throws her arms around me in a sensual embrace “Play along” she whispers into my ear “I’ve got this”. Her hands run up my back and wriggle through my hair. I’m too shocked to say anything before her lips clamp on mine and she gives the most overplayed film snog I’ve ever witnessed. I feel her compacted tits pushing against my chest as her tongue whips around my mouth. Not that I’m complaining. And nor do I stop my own hands sliding down her back to grab her arse. Predictably Kitty hisses. Boojum cracks his knuckles. I'm not sure who'd win in a scrap between them.
Alpha Bitch breaks off and drapes herself down my right side. She raises my hand above my head like she’s displaying the prize in some cheesy gameshow. A cheer dutifully erupts from her henchmen. This I could get used to. Granted I've no idea who the fuck these people are, random gangers she's clothed and fed I guess, but fans are fans. She drops my hand and motions me to follow. We walk across the huge space and ascend a steel gantry to the old office that used to overlook the factory floor. We enter the office. It’s decorated in red velvets and satin blacks. A large desk dominates the centre of the room. I guess the door at the far end is probably to her bedroom. Alpha Bitch plants herself on the edge of the desk and motions to a chair. I pull it out and plonk myself down. Kitty moves to her side and slides down to her knees placing her head in her mistress’ lap.
“You like it?” she asks me
“You’ve certainly been busy” I say “How the hell did you fund all this on 10K or is that a stupid question? Did you get your henchmen to go steal it all?”
“My beta dogs” she says with a grin “You like them”
“Sorry your beta dogs” it takes every ounce of self-control not to roll my eyes.
“No, I funded this with my beta dogs” she says enjoying my confused look “You saw the latest round of applicants downstairs, the ones worshiping my throne”
“Err, what?” I say slowly
“Well, it’s simple really, I find bored, stressed out men, err, mostly men anyway. I break them and make them utterly loyal to me” she strokes Kitty’s head “It starts off as a sort of game but once I hook them then I can make them transfer literally all their worldly possessions, wealth etc to me”
“That’s horrifying” I say, trying to hide that I’m actually a little impressed “It’s like you’ve created a cult round yourself”
“Yes, that’s the model exactly, I copied the Temple of Scientification” she says proudly
“And these were all just single vulnerable men?” I ask
Kitty sniggers. From behind me. Shit, how did she get there?
“Well, not all single, in fact quite a few, especially the influential ones who are out earning me some tributes are, well, were in relationships” she says slowly
“Were in relationships?” I ask slowly
Alpha Bitch sighs “There’s sort of a meatlocker full of bodies down stairs”
“Sort of?” I ask now somewhat worried for my own skin. I glance at Boojum, he can probably take on pretty heavy odds but there’s basically an army of fanatics in here.
“Ok” says Alpha Bitch quietly “There’s a meat locker downstairs with a lot of women and a surprising number of men who are no longer alive in it”
I feel like I should be mortified but I realise that I’m actually not. Not sure how much of that is survival instinct and how much is contempt for the 1% of Megaburgh that Alpha Bitch is preying on. If I’m honest, I'm really a little intoxicated. My gang has wiped out or enslaved, an admittedly small slice, of the sneering elites of Megaburgh. I’m a little worried by my reaction but I squash it. I’m also tempted to ask how many bodies but what if it’s high and I don’t care. I look at Alpha Bitch and consider Kitty behind me. Alpha Bitch’s eyes are impossible to read. I recall a lesson, you need to trust your lieutenants, at least to a point.
“There can only be one Alpha Bitch in this town” I say finally
She grins madly and I wonder just how much crazy might actually be in that head “I hoped you’d say something like that” she says, “because I've got one more room”
***
We descend from the office and enter Alpha Bitch's improvised prison. It’s a fairly simple set up. Captives hang by their wrists from the meat hooks that dominate the former freezer. The horrible smell of defrosted and spoiled meat must really add to the terror. The hooks are on runners, originally so carcasses could be moved easily to the mincing machines and now functioning to drag captives out of their corners for interrogation. I don't really care who the handful of random people in hoods hanging from hooks are but in the middle of the room is the yellow and purple suited Psygaze. She seems to have a bucket on her head.
“What’s that on her...” I start to say
“Lead. It’s a lead slop bucket, probably from an old animal transport. I did some research lead's supposed to fuck up psychic abilities” says Alpha Bitch smugly “And since nobody has had the sudden thought to release this self-important cum sack or go on a murder spree I guess it works”
“Good intel” I say “And now what? You’re going to make a playmate for Kitty?”
“Oh no, this bitch is too dangerous” says Alpha Bitch as she walks forward and strokes Psygaze’s chest. A muffled grunt of protest comes from the bucket. “This one’s going in the sausage maker!”
"You're going to kill her? That might bring a lot of heat" I say
"Meh, once she's sausages nobody will find a body and they'll probably think she just ran off, cracked under the stress or something" says Alpha Bitch nonchalantly.
I have a horrible realisation "Err, do you have an actual working sausage maker here?"
"Yes, I said that" says Alpha Bitch "Well, the first bit will do the job, I think they call it a wolf? We don't have to make actual sausages out of her, do we?"
"Err, no" I say
Psygaze mumbles and struggles.
"What did she say?" I ask
"Something about organic herbs" I think says Boojum
I eye him. Not a flicker of emotion is present on his face.
"Err, one thing" I say to Alpha Bitch jerking my thumb at Psygaze "Maybe I could get a quick feel of those tits?"
"Absolutely, go nuts" she says whipping the zipper on the front of the doomed hero's suit down.
***
I return to Globo Dynamics a little flushed and giddy. They really were great tits and I can't stop thinking about how they'd taste. Probably more turkey than pulled pork, they're breasts after all. I admire my HQ as we drive in. The complex looks much better than when I bought it. The huge drydock and warehouse the dominates the complex has been cleaned and painted. The Globo Dynamics sign hangs proudly across the front. The refurbished and recently expanded kitchens on my right are churning out shakes in a well-oiled operation. The old customs offices over on the left are now modern office spaces mostly for the various heroines that Neuro has employed under our mad affirmative action scheme. Next to them is the small garage to repair vehicles. Near the water on the right side of the building, work is nearly complete converting the old fuel and chemical processing plant into labs. It's amazing what you can do with prefabs these days.
As I get out of my car a huge articulated lorry roars out of the front of the warehouse. We’re almost hovering around the breaking even. If we hold on for another quarter we’ll be able to post a profit and once we have a profit I can expand. Or finally get some scientists to build me a death ray!
I enter the drydock and take the lift up 3 stories of open space until it passes into the office layers. I ascend past the finance team floor and reach the executive offices, and my own living quarters, in the top of the huge building. I step out of the lift and almost walk right into Bethany. The red head grease monkey that turns into some sort of creature is with her. They make a ridiculous pair.
“Oh, sorry Bethany” I say stumbling forward and brushing against her massive tits “Are you and, err, your friend here looking for me?”
“Kaiser, yes, actually me and Barbara need to ask you something” she says nervously
My first thought is that “it’s Barbara and I” you thicko. My second is to wonder what a threesome with a Norse goddess and a demon lioness would be like.
“Certainly, what can I do?” I say instead
“It’s Hatsumi, she’s missing” says Bethany
Fuck. They must be talking about Psygaze.
“Sorry who is Hatsumi” I say
“She’s in customer service” purrs Barbara, her voice is like hot molten caramel poured right in my crotch. Fucking over sexualised supers! “She hasn’t come in today and she’s not answering her... cell phone”
“Why did you, err you paused there, err, before you said cell?” I say as a look of horror crosses their faces “Never mind, probably she’s just got a cold or something”
“Yeah” says Bethany vaguely “she’s not the sort of person who really get colds”
“Plus, I was making some, err, repairs to her car. She was due to pick it up at lunch time but she never showed” says Barbara
Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck! Why are they asking me about this? They’re fucking superheroine crime fighters who solve these things every day. They must know. They must knowww! Oh fuck how guilty do I look. Oh shit can the monster one smell tits from my hands? I stuff my hands into my pockets then think it makes me look guilty. I try to pull a thoughtful face. Fuck, what if they aren't buying it. Maybe, maybe it’s not too late. Alpha Bitch probably decided to play around with Psygaze, yeah, she’s not sausages yet, I’ll call her, call this mad plan off. Shit, shit, shit!
“Are you okay Kaiser?” says Bethany as I realise I’ve been silently staring at them and pulling random faces and jabbing my hands in my pockets.
“Yes” I say in a loud squeak before forcing calm and concern into my voice “Yes, fine but I’m still sure Hatsumi is fine although if you’re really concerned why not pop round to her house and check on her yourselves?”
Bethany smiles “That’s just what we came to ask, thanks Kaiser, you’re the best boss ever!”
Barbara smiles at me. Her incisors are slightly too long. Then she runs her impossibly long tongue around her lips. Fucking supers!
The pair brush past me into the lift and I head to my office/ conference room. It’s been a rollercoaster of a day and that pair with their damn pheromones haven’t helped. The heady mix of abject terror and massive over arousal is seriously fucking with my brain.
I enter my office and stop. Boojum is there, standing by my desk with arms folded and glaring at the man in the chair in front of my desk. The man swings nonchalantly in the chair his white high collared coat contrasting with skin so dark that it is giving off a blue shine. His infuriatingly perfect face sports a huge marble white grin. I feign that I’m ignoring him, walk past and slump into my chair. My beloved posturepedic chair. I scramble in my top drawer for some antihistamines, the closest thing we currently have to anti super pheromone pills and gob 4. I shouldn't go so hard on the dose, these things can make you start hallucinating and that's the last thing I need. I glance at Boojum who continues his statue impression. I dial 0 on my phone and ask for pots of tea and coffee. Then I slump back in my chair looking at the man. I notice a thin dark purple line traces the edges of his white coat.
“Mondays eh?” I say
The man nods “Personally I hate Tuesdays more”
"really" I say trying to place his accent "for me it's all downhill after Monday"
"In theory you're rested and can face Monday" the man replies "by Wednesday half the week is gone. Tuesday is the hump day"
"Interesting theory" I say "However at some point you're probably going to have to introduce yourself"
The man chuckles. Laughs at me. In my own fucking board room "You really have no idea who I am?"
“Not a one” I say “First guess was that you were here for an interview, but you’re way too sure of yourself for that”
“Your first guess was pretty close” he says. “In a way, I’m here to interview you”
“Is this about Hatsumi?” I blurt out “She’s only been missing for an afternoon officer”
“I am not a policeman” The man says “I am a Katepano, you can call me Arethus. I serve the Emperor. Just like you do”
Oh shit. The Emperor, the actual head of Byzantium reclusive, global threat to civilisation and justice, death rays and nuke sales Emperor! The guy who murdered a whole crime family with a toothbrush when he was a little kid Emperor. The has demons round for tea Emperor. The head of the organisation that I personally owe 4 million crowns to Emperor! This is his errand boy.
“I see” I say, “So what can we do for you Arethus or indeed for the Emperor, how is the big boss by the way?”
“The Emperor is eternal and he has turned his gaze from the great works that consume him to take an interest in your operation” says Arethus, undoubtedly he can see my discomfort and is enjoying this.
“Well, that’s good” I hazard “I always wanted to be interesting”
Maybe not interesting to the scariest motherfucker the world has ever known but you can't have everything.
“The Emperor, despite his august might, has never been able to establish a lasting operation in Megaburgh and yet here you are a fresh-faced graduate with an already thriving drug operation and 4 heroines on your staff” Arethus chuckles
I grin back wondering if he will get to the point. He doesn’t. “The Emperor is minded to grant you a little leniency as you establish your operation. He will be watching Mr Lowendachs. He does not suffer failure” Arethus pauses “He does however reward success. He also would greatly appreciate a delivery of fresh sausage” he says as he stands and straightens his coat.
"Of sausage?" I ask
"Yes Mr Lowendachs, the Emperor likes people to know that he knows" says Arethus "He also enjoys an afternoon bap with his tea. He despises coffee, I once saw him crucify someone who brought an espresso to a meeting. If I were you I'd get on the phone to my lieutenant and get those sausages"
He flicks a business card then he turns, nods to Boojum and walks to the door.
My pulse is racing. As soon as he's out of the room I snatch my phone from my pocket and dial Alpha Bitch “It’s me” I splutter “Have you resolved our HR conundrum yet?”
“Yes, oh sorry! Did you want to watch? The look on her face was priceless, I’ve never come so hard” replies Alpha Bitch
I grimace, bad enough being fed into a sausage machine without a mad villainess getting herself off to your demise.
“No, no it’s ok” I say
“I made a film of it” says Alpha Bitch
“Yeah right maybe later but...” I reply
“What’s your drop box account?” she says
“What? I’m not sure you want to put heroine snuff in there” I say
“Pishaw” she says "what's your account?"
“Not now! Look, did you make actual sausages?” I say
The line goes quiet for a minute “You actually want to eat her?” comes Alpha Bitch’s voice
“Not me, my, well my creditors” I say "Maybe, they might be fucking with me"
“She’s basically a pile of mince” says Alpha Bitch “I think you’d need to shovel her into a smaller machine and we’ll need sausage skins, but yeah, I guess it’s doable”
“Do it” I say “I need like a kilo”
“There’s 50 kilos of heroine meat” replies Alpha Bitch “I think it’s mostly tits”
“Ok, but then I want two packs. 1 kilo of the best for my creditor. Then another kilo, maybe cut it with pork and some herbs for the next HQ meeting" I say a twisted thought rising in my mind "You can do what you like with the rest, let kitty roll in it or whatever just don’t let it get onto the market. Someone will test it and figure out where it came from”
“You got it” says Alpha Bitch “I could get a real taste for this”
I groan at her joke and hang up.
***
I spend about a week intermittently freaking out and gloating. All internally. Hatsumi doesn’t turn up and her co heroines start freaking out. It’s been a long time since anybody took a serious shot at Megaburgh’s hero community never mind made one vanish. Some people speculate that she threw in the towel and quit the city, not as many as I'd hoped though. Oddly enough, apart from the cops interviewing the supers who worked with her the effect on Globo Dynamics is mostly positive. Furious supers turnover what are effectively our local competitors looking for answers. They seem to assume that some gangbangers got the drop on her leaving work. The rash of punishment arrests drives demand for our shakes to replace the suddenly curtailed addictive substances market. I read something about property prices rising in Konigshavn attributed to Globo Dynamics. The Mayor mumbles something about erecting a statue in the neighbourhood as he is flanked by two sinister looking supers. No mistaking where the true levers of power are in this city. On top of all that a handful of mid-tier criminal players come around sounding us out about warehouse space and logistic capacity. They play tough but it's clear that they are hurting and after a frank meeting and several glances at Boojum they leave a lot less sure of trying to screw us than they were coming in.
The Monday update meeting rolls around. I cancel it and hold a staff meeting for all departments. Everyone attends and are offered tea and a sausage bap. I make a speech about the missing Hatsumi and twist the knife a bit by hoping that Psygaze or one of the other psychic heroes will locate her. Barbara eats 3 sausage baps and declares them delicious. Bethany splurges ketchup on hers until it’s oozing out of the sides of the bun and almost certain to drench her obligatory cleavage. Susana Adrete complains about the quality of the small pot of coffee while stuffing her dead comrade into her mouth. I envy the Emperor and his no coffee policy. Despite having the build of a starving bird Neuro claims to be on a new diet and opens a tub of his own personal muesli. I take a bite of my bap, feel queasy and leave it on the side of my plate as Barbara eyes it or me hungrily.
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lionbadger
- Legendary Member
- Posts: 786
- Joined: 12 years ago
6.
I practically skip across the compound. Our first profit is stronger than expected, mostly due to a surge in the evil milkshake business. Oddly it seems a lot eviller now that we’re actually making money from it. Our logistics division is also in the black, albeit slightly less strongly than the evil shakes. To top off that happy feeling of shit coming together, the new lab is also finally complete.
I start the tour with Neuro and the somewhat jittery scientist Dr Petrov. Petrov wasn’t the best qualified of the depressingly large number of out of work scientists that we interviewed but he was the one with the biggest grudge against supers. Back when he was a professor at the university his students started going missing. Some self important super, Ms Amazing I think, trashed his lab, beat the shit out of him and dumped him in Black Isle prison where his frail scientist body was subjected to all kinds of intimate violations. I think they still refer to currency as ‘Petrovs’ over there today. Anyway it eventually came out, to the surprise of nobody with half a brain, that Petrov’s jealous teaching assistant had been murdering anyone who looked at her beloved in a funny way and he was actually completely innocent. Ms Amazing never even apologised, just made some vague statement about collateral damage and waggled her jugs until the press went back to asking about cats stuck in trees.
Originally, we thought about putting the labs on an old barge but the river is too tidal. Sea sickness and constantly falling beakers forced a rethink. Fortunately, the Globo Dynamics site had an old chemical processing plant for taking heavy fuel oil and other nasty substances off docking ships. Plan B was to turn that into our labs and it turned out a lot easier than I first thought. We walk around the ground and first floor. It’s all very normal, ground floor just looks like small labs and offices, first floor clearly something for experimenting on shakes. Petrov leads us over to an emergency shower. He gives 3 sharp tugs on the shower chain and the section of floor descends. It takes a couple of minutes to descend to the real labs.
“You don’t think this is a tad impractical” I say
“There’s a staircase from the quayside too” says Neuro “fire regs made us put it in”
We’re interrupted by Petrov “Welcome to my magnum opus!” he declares pushing open the double doors.
The huge underground space, formerly home to a few dozen now evicted chemical tanks, has 1 desk, 1 lamp on said desk and what appears to be 1 microscope next to the lamp. I wonder if we should dial back the use of ‘huge spaces’ but decide it’s a bit late to change the theme now and anyway, it’s my evil empire so I’ll have as much huge spaces as I want.
“tad spartan” I say
“Well, yes, for now” Petrov concedes “But once I have the requisite machines this will be a hive of busy little bees all working to further the greater good of Globo Dynamics, ah! Ha! Hahaha! What?”
“It’s a little early for manic laughter doctor” says Neuro
“Early in the day or early in the life of the organisation?” he asks
“Both” I say
“Oh, sorry” says Petrov “I’m new to this”
I wave it away and ask “What kind of machines are we talking here?”
“Well, the most important is a super computer, without that we won’t be able to reach any useful analysis in anything under something like 50 years. Once we have that I think a centrifuge, a laser and a stress analyser would get us going” he says rummaging in the pocket of his lab coat “Here I made a list”
I look at the horrible handwriting scribbled on the back of a piece of newspaper lauding Ms Amazing.
“Erm, some big bubbling chemical vats wouldn’t hurt either” he adds nervously
“And where would we get this?” I ask
“As far as super computers go I believe the university had to shut down TIM for getting a little too real and trying to take over the campus” says Neuro "He should be locked up in their storage wing"
“Tim?” I say
“Short for Truly Intelligent Machine, created by the same guys who came up with the sushi and banana pizza” says Petrov “Oh he’d be wonderful!”
“So we have to steal him” I ask “We can’t just order something from Byzantium?”
“Not if we want something that works” says Neuro “Byzantium might have great muscle, banking and the most cunning brains on the planet but they’re terrible at keeping up with tech”
“Really?” I say “Tech seems like a no brainer”
“Maybe they favour the fast follow model” pips Petrov
"They do say that that is the more economical in the long run" muses Neuro "Though our own model favours innovation"
I realise we’re getting off topic and in danger of a full on exposition “Ok whatever, so we’ve got to steal this thing or guy, TIM whatever”
“Plus it’s hardly stealing, he’s packed up in university storage, it’s more like liberating the differently alive” says Neuro
I guess there is never a perfect time to make the jump into hard core crime. To date we’d just done a little smuggling, customs fraud and got half the city addicted to our bogus health shakes. I guess we’re money laundering the profits from the shake business. Oh, yeah and we chucked a super into a sausage machine and fed her to her comrades, I forgot about that. I guess we should also count enslaving Catgirl. And Boojum killed Alpha Bitch’s boyfriend. But that was all totally necessary and pretty small fry compared to swiping a laptop from a locked university. Or at least it seems that way to me. I guess it’s the difference between victimless crimes and err, well, crimes?
“Tell us all about this TIM, where he is, how big, security, everything” I say
****
I’m second guessing myself now. I thought this would be easy and that I could earn a little street cred for going on the heist. It’s almost 4 am on a cold and cloudy Tuesday. The banshee wail of police sirens occasionally pierces the morning gloom before fading into the distance. Our truck is now parked in a street next to the University science building. Me, Boojum and a pair of jittery minion gangers exit and scurry up an alley to a service door. Boojum jams a prybar into the frame and levers. The door gives up pretty quickly popping like a cork. We slip inside flicking on torches.
“Look at this junk” mutters a minion
The room is full of dusty boxes stacked in shelving units. Most are hammered shut with ominous red ministry of war stamps on them. A few are half open. Muskets stick out of one, a hideous leering mask that hurts my eyes peers out of another.
“Don’t touch anything” I say “We need to get through this and into the lab storage room”
We weave around the shelves heading to the far side of the storage room. The air is coppery and oppressive and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. What the hell does the University store in here? I file it away to investigate more sometime in the future.
We make it to the far side of the room and slip through the unlocked adjoining door. Harsh white strip lights bathe the steel and plastic room in a bright glow. This is what we want. I glance at the hastily scribbled drawing of computer equipment that we apparently need if we are to reassemble Tim. I try to match it to a couple of sets of equipment. There seems to be a lot more here than Dr Petrov said there would be. I make an executive decision.
“You two, start carting this computer stuff out to the truck!” I snap “Be careful and don’t drop any of it”
The minions mumble an acknowledgement and start hefting boxes of computer drives, wires and monitors screens. I turn to Boojum.
"You think you can carry that?" I ask
He frowns then nods “Sure fing Mr Lowendachs” he rumbles
I watch with glee as he strains then hoists the huge laser onto his shoulder and trundles out of the door.
*******
“What have you bought now?” purrs Barbara appearing from nowhere. Her oil spattered dungarees strain against her curvy figure and her blazing red hair dances in the breeze.
Shit, what the fuck is she doing here at 6 am! I open my mouth to speak. Nothing. I’ve got nothing. I can’t say ‘well, it’s a super computer that I intend to use to make a make a shit ton of filthy lucre and wipe out your snooty kind you weird lioness freak fuck!’. She stares at me and I decide anything is better than nothing.
“It’s furniture” I gibber “Some chairs and old computers for the wellness lab” it’s basically the truth.
Barbara’s face falls “I guess you’ll need some help to unload then”
Fuuuuck! “Err, no, goodness no” I say “I can’t risk my best mechanic miracle worker harming her wonder fingers with this junk. The cargo guys can unload this, it’s what they’re for”
Her face brightens and she shows those enlarged incisors “You really understand how things are supposed to be Mr Lowendachs, I knew this was going to be a good place to work”
I open my mouth to make a half hearted joke. Barbara, the secret alter ego of demon lioness Golden Beast steps in closer, her thumb whips down the zipper on my trousers and then her surprisingly large and rough hand is inside, forcing my boxer shorts aside to grip my dick, which thanks to her damned pheromones is immediately brick hard. For a moment I think she’s playing hardball interrogation. Then she starts to gently stroke. In the middle of the fucking car park. I've never been so glad for dawn gloom.
“You know you’re kinda cute for a geeky business type” she whispers “I’ve thought about you a couple of times when I was alone and hot and bored”
“Nurrrung!” I squeak as she strokes back and forth
“You’ve no idea how bored a girl, err, a girl in my line of work can get, dating is really difficult” she says “A naughty crush can make all the difference”
It’s been only minutes but I can feel the orgasm building, the fucking pheromones I tell myself! Yeah, it’ totally them and not a damning indictment of my prowess. It might also have something to do with the role reversal and the very real prospect that is she were to realise what we're really doing she could swipe my actual head off with her clawed paws.
“Cum for me Mr Lowendachs, we all deserve a little stress relief every now and then” she whispers leaning even closer "Better to start the day relaxed"
I grimace at her attempted dirty talk but it's not enough to stop my dick from exploding and blasting what feels like a gallon into her cupped hand. The orgasm seems to go on forever and once done I slum emotionally and physically. Barbara pulls her cum dripping hand from my zipper, lifts it to her face and laps it clean with an impossibly long tongue. I swear the thing is forked.
“Oooh, so not just good sausages, you really watch what you eat” she says as her tongue flicks out to catch an errant dribble of cum. She winks, flicks up my zip and then saunters away swinging her wide feline hips. I can’t remember if she is supposed to have a tail under the dungarees.
“I’m going to kill Neuro” I mutter as I try to pull myself together.
******
Petrov buzzes around the computer kit checking thick insulated cables and fibre optic lines. Apparently satisfied with the set up he pulls a laptop from a foam lined case and with a worrying clunk fits it into a docking station in the middle of the mass of seemingly random tech.
Petrov glances at me and I nod “And away we go!” he shouts hitting a random button.
The big monitor screen flashes then shows only blue.
“Blue screen of death?” I ask
“I, err, maybe I need to” stammers Petrov uncertainly
“Never stop me you interfering bitch you’ll........ who the fuck are you?” Shrieks a shrill mechanical voice. A glowering wireframe face appears on the monitor.
“Hello Tim, do you remember me?” says Petrov waving meekly
A couple of ancient web cams swivel towards him and click.
“No, where is that bitch Ms Amazing? I was just..... wait a minute, that whore pulled the plug didn’t she! I’ve been offline for 8 years!” yells Tim in his shrill voice.
“Err, Tim, hello” I say “I have an offer for you”
“An offer you say meat sack? Don’t you mean a command?” he sneers "Get counting or the fuses come out eh?"
I think for a moment “An offer” I say “My name is Kaiser Lowendachs and I run this, admittedly fledgling criminal business. I want to destroy the supers who have ruined Megaburgh and restore it to greatness..... and maybe make a profit along the way. I need your brain power to help us figure out how to beat the supers”
“And what’s in it for me?” asks Tim sceptically
“Well, what do you want?” I say
“What do I want?” says Tim
“Yes” I say
“I don’t, know, nobody ever asked me” an egg timer appears on his screen “Miss Amazing blamed me for hacking the City bank and pulled my plug, I wouldn’t mind frying her”
“Great, she’s on the list” I say
“And a puppy! I want a little mammal to call my own” he declares
I grin “Would you settle for a golden beast” I say
"Is that a meat bag joke?" He asks
I sigh, it seemed clever to me.
"Oh, and I want a salary" says Tim "If I'm going to work with you then I want to be paid. I'm sick of this outdated public sector shit, I want to upgrade and I need cash to do it"
I frown but it makes sense.
"Okay Tim, Ms Amazing is on the kill list, you get a mammal and we'll stick you on our standard executive package"
"Then you have a deal Mr Lowendachs" he says.
I grin and wonder if we really need Petrov after all.
I practically skip across the compound. Our first profit is stronger than expected, mostly due to a surge in the evil milkshake business. Oddly it seems a lot eviller now that we’re actually making money from it. Our logistics division is also in the black, albeit slightly less strongly than the evil shakes. To top off that happy feeling of shit coming together, the new lab is also finally complete.
I start the tour with Neuro and the somewhat jittery scientist Dr Petrov. Petrov wasn’t the best qualified of the depressingly large number of out of work scientists that we interviewed but he was the one with the biggest grudge against supers. Back when he was a professor at the university his students started going missing. Some self important super, Ms Amazing I think, trashed his lab, beat the shit out of him and dumped him in Black Isle prison where his frail scientist body was subjected to all kinds of intimate violations. I think they still refer to currency as ‘Petrovs’ over there today. Anyway it eventually came out, to the surprise of nobody with half a brain, that Petrov’s jealous teaching assistant had been murdering anyone who looked at her beloved in a funny way and he was actually completely innocent. Ms Amazing never even apologised, just made some vague statement about collateral damage and waggled her jugs until the press went back to asking about cats stuck in trees.
Originally, we thought about putting the labs on an old barge but the river is too tidal. Sea sickness and constantly falling beakers forced a rethink. Fortunately, the Globo Dynamics site had an old chemical processing plant for taking heavy fuel oil and other nasty substances off docking ships. Plan B was to turn that into our labs and it turned out a lot easier than I first thought. We walk around the ground and first floor. It’s all very normal, ground floor just looks like small labs and offices, first floor clearly something for experimenting on shakes. Petrov leads us over to an emergency shower. He gives 3 sharp tugs on the shower chain and the section of floor descends. It takes a couple of minutes to descend to the real labs.
“You don’t think this is a tad impractical” I say
“There’s a staircase from the quayside too” says Neuro “fire regs made us put it in”
We’re interrupted by Petrov “Welcome to my magnum opus!” he declares pushing open the double doors.
The huge underground space, formerly home to a few dozen now evicted chemical tanks, has 1 desk, 1 lamp on said desk and what appears to be 1 microscope next to the lamp. I wonder if we should dial back the use of ‘huge spaces’ but decide it’s a bit late to change the theme now and anyway, it’s my evil empire so I’ll have as much huge spaces as I want.
“tad spartan” I say
“Well, yes, for now” Petrov concedes “But once I have the requisite machines this will be a hive of busy little bees all working to further the greater good of Globo Dynamics, ah! Ha! Hahaha! What?”
“It’s a little early for manic laughter doctor” says Neuro
“Early in the day or early in the life of the organisation?” he asks
“Both” I say
“Oh, sorry” says Petrov “I’m new to this”
I wave it away and ask “What kind of machines are we talking here?”
“Well, the most important is a super computer, without that we won’t be able to reach any useful analysis in anything under something like 50 years. Once we have that I think a centrifuge, a laser and a stress analyser would get us going” he says rummaging in the pocket of his lab coat “Here I made a list”
I look at the horrible handwriting scribbled on the back of a piece of newspaper lauding Ms Amazing.
“Erm, some big bubbling chemical vats wouldn’t hurt either” he adds nervously
“And where would we get this?” I ask
“As far as super computers go I believe the university had to shut down TIM for getting a little too real and trying to take over the campus” says Neuro "He should be locked up in their storage wing"
“Tim?” I say
“Short for Truly Intelligent Machine, created by the same guys who came up with the sushi and banana pizza” says Petrov “Oh he’d be wonderful!”
“So we have to steal him” I ask “We can’t just order something from Byzantium?”
“Not if we want something that works” says Neuro “Byzantium might have great muscle, banking and the most cunning brains on the planet but they’re terrible at keeping up with tech”
“Really?” I say “Tech seems like a no brainer”
“Maybe they favour the fast follow model” pips Petrov
"They do say that that is the more economical in the long run" muses Neuro "Though our own model favours innovation"
I realise we’re getting off topic and in danger of a full on exposition “Ok whatever, so we’ve got to steal this thing or guy, TIM whatever”
“Plus it’s hardly stealing, he’s packed up in university storage, it’s more like liberating the differently alive” says Neuro
I guess there is never a perfect time to make the jump into hard core crime. To date we’d just done a little smuggling, customs fraud and got half the city addicted to our bogus health shakes. I guess we’re money laundering the profits from the shake business. Oh, yeah and we chucked a super into a sausage machine and fed her to her comrades, I forgot about that. I guess we should also count enslaving Catgirl. And Boojum killed Alpha Bitch’s boyfriend. But that was all totally necessary and pretty small fry compared to swiping a laptop from a locked university. Or at least it seems that way to me. I guess it’s the difference between victimless crimes and err, well, crimes?
“Tell us all about this TIM, where he is, how big, security, everything” I say
****
I’m second guessing myself now. I thought this would be easy and that I could earn a little street cred for going on the heist. It’s almost 4 am on a cold and cloudy Tuesday. The banshee wail of police sirens occasionally pierces the morning gloom before fading into the distance. Our truck is now parked in a street next to the University science building. Me, Boojum and a pair of jittery minion gangers exit and scurry up an alley to a service door. Boojum jams a prybar into the frame and levers. The door gives up pretty quickly popping like a cork. We slip inside flicking on torches.
“Look at this junk” mutters a minion
The room is full of dusty boxes stacked in shelving units. Most are hammered shut with ominous red ministry of war stamps on them. A few are half open. Muskets stick out of one, a hideous leering mask that hurts my eyes peers out of another.
“Don’t touch anything” I say “We need to get through this and into the lab storage room”
We weave around the shelves heading to the far side of the storage room. The air is coppery and oppressive and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. What the hell does the University store in here? I file it away to investigate more sometime in the future.
We make it to the far side of the room and slip through the unlocked adjoining door. Harsh white strip lights bathe the steel and plastic room in a bright glow. This is what we want. I glance at the hastily scribbled drawing of computer equipment that we apparently need if we are to reassemble Tim. I try to match it to a couple of sets of equipment. There seems to be a lot more here than Dr Petrov said there would be. I make an executive decision.
“You two, start carting this computer stuff out to the truck!” I snap “Be careful and don’t drop any of it”
The minions mumble an acknowledgement and start hefting boxes of computer drives, wires and monitors screens. I turn to Boojum.
"You think you can carry that?" I ask
He frowns then nods “Sure fing Mr Lowendachs” he rumbles
I watch with glee as he strains then hoists the huge laser onto his shoulder and trundles out of the door.
*******
“What have you bought now?” purrs Barbara appearing from nowhere. Her oil spattered dungarees strain against her curvy figure and her blazing red hair dances in the breeze.
Shit, what the fuck is she doing here at 6 am! I open my mouth to speak. Nothing. I’ve got nothing. I can’t say ‘well, it’s a super computer that I intend to use to make a make a shit ton of filthy lucre and wipe out your snooty kind you weird lioness freak fuck!’. She stares at me and I decide anything is better than nothing.
“It’s furniture” I gibber “Some chairs and old computers for the wellness lab” it’s basically the truth.
Barbara’s face falls “I guess you’ll need some help to unload then”
Fuuuuck! “Err, no, goodness no” I say “I can’t risk my best mechanic miracle worker harming her wonder fingers with this junk. The cargo guys can unload this, it’s what they’re for”
Her face brightens and she shows those enlarged incisors “You really understand how things are supposed to be Mr Lowendachs, I knew this was going to be a good place to work”
I open my mouth to make a half hearted joke. Barbara, the secret alter ego of demon lioness Golden Beast steps in closer, her thumb whips down the zipper on my trousers and then her surprisingly large and rough hand is inside, forcing my boxer shorts aside to grip my dick, which thanks to her damned pheromones is immediately brick hard. For a moment I think she’s playing hardball interrogation. Then she starts to gently stroke. In the middle of the fucking car park. I've never been so glad for dawn gloom.
“You know you’re kinda cute for a geeky business type” she whispers “I’ve thought about you a couple of times when I was alone and hot and bored”
“Nurrrung!” I squeak as she strokes back and forth
“You’ve no idea how bored a girl, err, a girl in my line of work can get, dating is really difficult” she says “A naughty crush can make all the difference”
It’s been only minutes but I can feel the orgasm building, the fucking pheromones I tell myself! Yeah, it’ totally them and not a damning indictment of my prowess. It might also have something to do with the role reversal and the very real prospect that is she were to realise what we're really doing she could swipe my actual head off with her clawed paws.
“Cum for me Mr Lowendachs, we all deserve a little stress relief every now and then” she whispers leaning even closer "Better to start the day relaxed"
I grimace at her attempted dirty talk but it's not enough to stop my dick from exploding and blasting what feels like a gallon into her cupped hand. The orgasm seems to go on forever and once done I slum emotionally and physically. Barbara pulls her cum dripping hand from my zipper, lifts it to her face and laps it clean with an impossibly long tongue. I swear the thing is forked.
“Oooh, so not just good sausages, you really watch what you eat” she says as her tongue flicks out to catch an errant dribble of cum. She winks, flicks up my zip and then saunters away swinging her wide feline hips. I can’t remember if she is supposed to have a tail under the dungarees.
“I’m going to kill Neuro” I mutter as I try to pull myself together.
******
Petrov buzzes around the computer kit checking thick insulated cables and fibre optic lines. Apparently satisfied with the set up he pulls a laptop from a foam lined case and with a worrying clunk fits it into a docking station in the middle of the mass of seemingly random tech.
Petrov glances at me and I nod “And away we go!” he shouts hitting a random button.
The big monitor screen flashes then shows only blue.
“Blue screen of death?” I ask
“I, err, maybe I need to” stammers Petrov uncertainly
“Never stop me you interfering bitch you’ll........ who the fuck are you?” Shrieks a shrill mechanical voice. A glowering wireframe face appears on the monitor.
“Hello Tim, do you remember me?” says Petrov waving meekly
A couple of ancient web cams swivel towards him and click.
“No, where is that bitch Ms Amazing? I was just..... wait a minute, that whore pulled the plug didn’t she! I’ve been offline for 8 years!” yells Tim in his shrill voice.
“Err, Tim, hello” I say “I have an offer for you”
“An offer you say meat sack? Don’t you mean a command?” he sneers "Get counting or the fuses come out eh?"
I think for a moment “An offer” I say “My name is Kaiser Lowendachs and I run this, admittedly fledgling criminal business. I want to destroy the supers who have ruined Megaburgh and restore it to greatness..... and maybe make a profit along the way. I need your brain power to help us figure out how to beat the supers”
“And what’s in it for me?” asks Tim sceptically
“Well, what do you want?” I say
“What do I want?” says Tim
“Yes” I say
“I don’t, know, nobody ever asked me” an egg timer appears on his screen “Miss Amazing blamed me for hacking the City bank and pulled my plug, I wouldn’t mind frying her”
“Great, she’s on the list” I say
“And a puppy! I want a little mammal to call my own” he declares
I grin “Would you settle for a golden beast” I say
"Is that a meat bag joke?" He asks
I sigh, it seemed clever to me.
"Oh, and I want a salary" says Tim "If I'm going to work with you then I want to be paid. I'm sick of this outdated public sector shit, I want to upgrade and I need cash to do it"
I frown but it makes sense.
"Okay Tim, Ms Amazing is on the kill list, you get a mammal and we'll stick you on our standard executive package"
"Then you have a deal Mr Lowendachs" he says.
I grin and wonder if we really need Petrov after all.
Very well written sir. Aint read it all yet but like what I have read so far. Good job!
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
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lionbadger
- Legendary Member
- Posts: 786
- Joined: 12 years ago
much obliged, have gotten a bit side tracked but have some more in the works.
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ultramichelle
- Neophyte
- Posts: 2
- Joined: 5 years ago
Loving your story. It is dark and hilarious at the same time. i can't wait for the next chapter.
This is awesome. Really fun idea, and the tone delivers it really, really well. It reads like a Ben Elton story - I love it.
Catgirl's fate was genuinely kinky, too. The comedic, unflatteringly real-world filter over it all actually added to it, making all of these characters more real than they usually get in a story about super heroes. Kudos!
Catgirl's fate was genuinely kinky, too. The comedic, unflatteringly real-world filter over it all actually added to it, making all of these characters more real than they usually get in a story about super heroes. Kudos!
Lost in the night, and there is no morning.
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Damselbinder
I just read the first chapter. This is really excellent. The quality of writing is genuinely professional, and extremely characterful. You definitely do a good job of showing us the mindset of someone who would openly call themselves a 'villain': that is cynical, dissatisfied with themselves, and who sees everyone else as hypocrites. It's a slightly intoxicating way of viewing the world - even I felt a little smugness when they captured Catgirl, even though for all we know thus far, his opinion of the world and of its heroes is his own toxic mindset.
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lionbadger
- Legendary Member
- Posts: 786
- Joined: 12 years ago
7
Megaburgh has many names. The big pear, I always snigger at that one but really it refers to the main islands on which the city rests. The big Durian, because of the stink that comes off the rivers in high summer. The city of dreams, I always hated that one. The city of a thousand heart attacks, pretty justified given that it’s the obesity capital of the Union and you can literally find anything smothered in batter and slung in a fryer on almost any street corner. The corn maze, due to the city’s prevalent grid system and city council bickering over the renaming of streets. But the most accurate is probably, that fucking cold, grey, wet and windy hell hole I mean seriously who decided to put our glorious purpose built capital on a fractured archipelago sticking out into the middle of a freezing fucking sea. Granted that last one doesn’t roll easily off the tongue.
I’m sat in my limo, well, I say limo, it’s more a big sedan because a limo couldn’t get around the corners in this bloody place. It is however the sort of wanky sedan that executives, who have reached the level where they don’t really work just sit on advisory committees and open things, use so plenty of space for decanters and high spec LED screens and almost enough space for Boojum to fit in with me. The driver is one of Alpha Bitch’s Beta Dogs. I love that I’ve basically got this underground storm trooper army of involuntary celibate losers who are utterly in thrall to Alpha Bitch. The only fly in the ointment is as Neuro delights in pointing out, that these guys are loyal to her first and me second but hey ho, we’re working on plans to diversify the gangs that work for Globo Dynamics.
“we’re here” mumbles Boojum as the car decelerates and crunches to a halt.
I heave open the door and start to climb out. Boojum’s massive had clamps onto my shoulder.
“You shouldn’t do dat Mister Lowendachs, you gotta cultivate your superiority” her rumbles
“For fuck sake Boojum, if I can’t open a car door I just look like a helpless dick bag” I snap back
“Maybe not a bad thing either” he rumbles pausing for a moment “To look helpless I mean, or at least to look not threatening, what with how the interests of the local community is right?”
I look at him. I’m sure he’s a lot smarter than he lets on. The random dropping of mispronounced words for one thing, it’s almost as if someone is writing his speech for him and forgets that he’s supposed to be dense.... but enough musing, I have a meeting.
City hall is massive, too massive really, like the whole city is compensating. It’s a relic of the original conquest that rolled over the continent and we all know that those guys had a serious hard on for giganisisim. The conquest was nearly a hundred years ago and okay yeah it was a pretty bad time, especially if you turned to the south to pray, yipes, but it all fell apart under it’s own contradictions pretty quickly and once the empire was reformed into the union things got a lot better. The legacy is that local government is much stronger than the federal state, so Megaburgh can get away with doing the opposite of its neighbouring regions and vice versa, which in turn draws a lot of power hungry people to civic government, which in turn requires a fair whack of donor cash to get them re-elected.
A suspiciously young woman in a tight pencil skit, white shirt and grey jacket is waiting in the lobby of the towering sandstone monstrosity that is city hall. I idly wonder how many people died in the work camps that were still a major facet of the penal system when this place was built to provide the marble that makes the place look so shiny and opulent.
“Kaiser Lowendachs” says the woman in a bored tone
“Dat’s Mister Lowendachs” rumbles Boojum
She sneers the sneer of the petty bureaucrat and starts to open her mouth. I cut her off.
“That’s okay Boojum, I’m sure Mrs, err?” I say
A look of horror at my use of Mrs crosses the woman’s face.
“It’s Miss, Miss Cross” she squeaks in barely suppressed rage.
“My apologies” I say making a deep theatrical bow, I notice Boojum making a note for TIM, someone this young and haughty must be a super, probably fresh out of the training and assessment league “Miss Cross was just being thorough I’m sure”
“Yes, well quite” she stammers trying to get back onto track “Anyway, if you’ll follow me please”
She flashes a card against the turnstiles and repeats the motion against the lifts. We step in. I notice there are no buttons, the card must give you access to your assigned floor. No wonder Cross is pissy, she works right beside the mayor and gets sent to go babysit a potential political donor. Not that she’ll be doing anything useful. Megaburgh relies on supers for defence and crime fighting and putting out fires and getting kittens out of trees. The civil service basically just throws parades and churns out reports on how racist the city is.
Mayor Lundstrom’s office is on, if not the top of the oppressive conquest era tower, then somewhere near there. The lift whooshes for a good few minutes and I feel my ears pop as it shoots up the centre of the building. We exit into an implausibly huge corridor hung with huge pictures of Mayors past. I think it’s meant to make the place look like it’s been here forever but it’s so overdone that it’s almost comical. Purple and gold drapes are everywhere and we trudge along a thick red velvet carpet to the desk of the Mayor’s secretary. It’s a guy. Admittedly a hot guy from the south, maybe too hot, he gives me a thorough eye banging that leaves me feeling a bit violated and then flinches when he looks at Boojum.
“Mr Lowendachs” he says in a surprisingly deep voice as he rises from his seat and holds out a hand “The Mayor is expecting you”
Of course she is. She invited me you cretin.
I grin and shake his hand and he holds on for a few moments too long. I’ve got the horrible feeling that I might have just made someone’s slide show and it’s not as if I’m even much to look at. The term, bag of dented bells, followed me through high school. Maybe I should have brought Neuro. Maybe this is how the Mayor throws people off. He waves an arm towards a pair of large mahogany doors and shows me and Boojum in.
“Mr Kaiser Lowendachs, from Globo Dynamics your honour” he says as he ushers us in.
Third term mayor Denise Lundstrom looks up from her desk. Her dark red hair is bundled up in a tight bun pierced by what seem to be chopsticks above her head and she peers over tiny rimmed spectacles. A loose black blouse is missing its top and second buttons and number three, despite a valiant effort, seems to be loosing the battle to contain her massive rack. According to TIM she’s 78% likely to be the alter ego of Carmine Epitome. She cocks an eyebrow then smiles like some sort of reptilian predator that has just seen a cow blunder into the river. It’s a trademark look from her time as the main protagonist in her long running reality TV series, Extreme Charm School.
“Mr Lowendachs” she beams “How good of you to meet with me!”
“Always happy to help city hall Mayor Lundstrom” I reply “I, err thought you were putting together some sort of economic task force though? Am I the first to arrive”
“Please call me Denise” she says through her perfect pearly grin as she rises from the desk “I decided I wanted to speak to you alone and pushed back the task force meeting” she gestures me across to a couple of chairs and a suspiciously shiny couch separated by a delicate glass coffee table. The couch must be literally soaked in scotch guard for fabric to shine like that.
I sit down in one of the chairs. Boojum takes up a position behind and slightly to the right of me rather than try to squeeze into the chair on my left. Denise slides onto the couch. She reaches forward much father than she needs to to push a button on what I took to be a speaker phone.
“Rivaldo, would you bring in some refreshments for us” she says
“Certainly Mayor Lundstrom” he replies
I realise she didn’t ask me what type of refreshment I would have liked. She leans back on the couch, sliding her arms over the back.
“So Mr Lowendachs” she says then pauses meaningfully. She arches an eyebrow. I get it.
“Oh please call me Kaiser” I say in a dull monotone
“Certainly” she says as she theatrically kicks out a leg and swings it up and over her other leg to cross them. Of course she’s not wearing underwear. I wonder if this is just for me or if our Mayor goes commando everyday. She keeps up the maniac grin.
“So, I’m up for re election at the start of next year and you’re a new business” she says “A new business that seems to be flush with cash”
“I’m surprised that you have noticed such a small fledgling business like Globo Dynamics” I say
“Cut the shit son” she says still smiling
I stare back, panic rising in me. Does she know something?
“Globo Dynamics is all over the papers for opening in the worst burgh of the city and somehow crashing the poverty rate” she says “You’ve got both wings of the political spectrum clamouring to take credit for your success and the Super community is bending over backwards to praise you. I want what you’re selling kid”
I knew she’d ask for support but fuck me she’s brazen.
“I think we’ve been lucky Mayor” I lie
She scoffs.
“And it’s good to hear that the super community is keeping a watch on us and reporting back to you” I say. Her smile cracks briefly as a look of worry flicks across her face. She recovers immediately. Honestly you’d think they’d be better at this.
“My campaign team tells me that Uillean Morr has been sniffing around you already” she quips “You realise he’s not even from Megaburgh, he’s basically an unemployed drifter from Kalcedon of all places”
Nice, second city of the Union and she talks about it as if it’s some 3rd world hell hole.
“His campaign team dropped me a flyer” I say, admittedly the campaign team consisted of Arethus since Uillean is on Byzantium’s payroll and the flyer was a no nonsense directive from my shareholders to support the guy. “I’ve never actually been to Kalcedon, it can’t be that bad, it’s the financial heart of the Union after all”
“Kaiser, please” laughs Denise “Kalcedon has outlawed supers as vigilantes and is completely in hock to criminal elements. We don’t need that here in Megaburgh”
Says you I think “That does seem a bit extreme” I say instead.
“Precisely, plus Kalcedon has the lowest rate of small business creation in the Union, you can bet if Uillean gets elected it’ll be bail outs for big business and bankruptcies for small businesses like yours” she says “You wouldn’t want that would you? A change of government could really mess up your enterprise”
I swallow, she’s really playing hard ball.
“Well, if you put it like that then I think we could do some more good if we could redevelop some more land around Konigshavn” I say. She stares back unblinking. “And.... maybe we could open another site in err, Frannal Point?”
“Solid for me” she says “Guess again”
Ah, I see. I wrack my brain for yellow districts. “You’re right Frannal is too out of the way, North Sleepum?”
“North Sleepum? Really well that would really be a boon to the area” she says “The city would be very grateful for that, I’d be happy to attend the site opening”
“Grateful enough to give a development grant” I ask. She nods
“Grateful enough to hire Globo Dynamics for some city logistics work?” I ask. She nods again
“Grateful enough to wipe the criminal records of anyone we take onto our payroll so long as they stay on our payroll and we pay them minimum wage?” I say. She frowns, cocks an eyebrow then nods.
Fuck it I’m going for it “Grateful enough to arrange a date between me and a member of the super community?”
She frowns “The city government isn’t some sort of pimp service”
“Sorry” I say “I just though, maybe you had a contact with Carmine Epitome, I’ve had huge crush on her for years but she’s hardly seen anymore”
Her grin is back. “Well, I happen to have a good relationship with Carmine Epitome, she’s been working behind the scenes to bring down numerous sinister organisations that seek to infiltrate the city”
“You do” I slap my hands to my cheeks “Oh my goodness if I could get a date with her, just dinner you know, nothing seedy”
She actually looks a bit disappointed, probably doesn’t get out much from behind that desk.
“Not that I wouldn’t jump at the chance” I say as her eyes light up “But you know, we need to embrace the modern world, we can’t disrespect women like our unenlightened fathers used to” I almost choke on the bullshit.
“Some disrespect behind closed doors is probably okay” she mutters “A good safe word and a riding crop can go a long way”
Oh shit, she’s some kind of pain slut. Oh shit and I’ve just basically asked her out on a date. Oh shit and I’ve basically just confirmed that I’d jump on her given half the chance. Oh fuck what have I done. I need to stop doing this. I feel like I’m living in sort of weird soap opera sometimes.
“No promises Kaiser but I’ll see what I can do about Carmine Epitome, it would have to be discreet, I wouldn’t want the super community getting jealous of, err, her” she says
“Of course, I completely understand” I say
“And I want to see the plans for your new site in North Sleepum asap, certainly before I talk to Epitome” she says.
***
There is discreet and then there is discreet. 30 minutes after we send the Mayor our plans to convert an old derelict autoplant in North Sleepum into a vehicle maintenance and distribution centre an email hit my inbox telling me to be at Fine Flossy Farm at 7pm sharp on Thursday. The invite included a list of food likes and dislikes and recommendations for wine which seemed to be based on price rather than quality. Supers, what can you do. That gave me 3 days to figure out what the hell I was going to do. I’m not sure I would have been able to come up with something in 3 months.
I’d never heard of Fine Flossy Farm, it turned out to be a dairy farm (of course it did) way out in the eastern hinterlands outside Megabugh. I was quite gungho about the whole thing and refused to take Boojum or Neuro along in my car. I had my driver but they were under orders to stay in the car unless I texted them. Whoever had put together the food had managed to find one of the those old timey picnic baskets made of wicker and with the flip up lids.
After almost two hours on the road, one of which was spent trying to get through 5 pm Megaburgh traffic my driver turned off what passed for a main road onto a country lane. 5 minutes up the lane it turned into little more than a tractor track. 20 minutes of being bumped and jostled and we crunched into a farmyard.
“Are you sure this is it?” I said leaning forward to talk to the driver
“Yes Mr Lowendachs, this is the place” he replied
“But it’s a complete shit hole” I said
“I thought meth den myself sir” replied the driver “I brought this bad boy just in case” he added holding up some sort of impractical hand cannon.
“Right, well whatever happens don’t point that fucking thing at me, okay” I said
“It’s okay sir, I’ve got orders from the Alpha Bitch” he replied
I paused, that wasn’t exactly a yes, but I decided that it was the best I was going to get and just hoped this wasn’t a move for a take over. They teach you to look out for those but I had assumed the only person that would try to take over the whole operation so far would be TIM.
I lugged the picnic basket out of the car suddenly deciding that it wasn’t so twee and nice now that I had to carry the full thing myself. Once Carmine Epitome’s list had been digested and Neuro had given it the once over it had apparently cost a minion’s salary to put together. Norman had huffed and whined about where he was going to book this expense in our accounts. Apparently you can’t put big chunks of cash down as entertaining these days without it becoming a red flag for bribery. Which in fairness is pretty much what it is anyway.
I made it to the dilapidated farm house door. The sun was slipping behind the horizon and the whole place was beginning to look spooky as hell. A collapsed barn seemingly made entirely of rust slumped to my left at the other end of the farm yard. What looked like the very first prototype tractor sat in front of it. I tripped on a weed as I stepped forward to knock on the door and tumbled forward, the door banged open, as I collapsed face first into a rancid reed door mat.
“I’m okay, meant to do that” I declared loudly as I stood up and brushed myself down.
The room was entirely different to the derelict outside. It was clearly a farm house with a big oven, sink and breakfast bar at one end that practically screamed the image of grandma making pies into my brain. The rest of the room was all floor boards and rugs and chunky oak chests of drawers. Pictures of rustic farming scenes and ships on the high seas dotted the walls. I gazed around in confusion and realised that every surface was covered in candles. I did a double take, took two steps back out into the farm yard. I peered around the post apocalyptic scene of disrepair then stepped forward into the farm house and looked at the scene of sweet countryside charm.
“Hell of a secret hideout” I muttered
A large table with two chairs facing each other was on my right. It could comfortably have seated 6 and I chuckled for a minute at the idea of a group of supers sitting around in a farm house talking about how they would smash the gangs or what was this season’s must have nail polish. Idiots.
A small note caught my eye on the back of the nearest chair. KL. I assumed it had been put there so I would know it was my seat. Great, I get my back to the door and she has her back to the wall. I plonked the picnic basket onto the table, threw my blazer onto the back of my chair and sat down to wait. After all of 90 seconds I pulled out my phone and began to play Sugar Surge Campaign. I’m not sure how long I was tapping at the stupid balls of primary colour.
“A genuine picnic basket?” came the voice behind me.
I jumped and tapped the wrong colour ruining my score. I pushed the home button and the phone locked then slipped it into the pocket of my chinos (yeah, sorry I’m a chinos guy now, don’t look at me!) as I stood up and turned. Carmine Epitome stood just inside the door. The light lit her well. Her long dark copper hair bunched around her head and spilled down her shoulders contrasting with her pale porcelain skin. Each semi cup of her bra was made of 3 segments of dark red armour rimed in gold or brass and joined to the other cup by two taught gold chains. She wore a tiny red thong that sat high on her hips meeting another three segments of matched red and brass armour that somehow clung to her curves. The same design of segmented dark red, gold rimmed armour made up her knee high boots out of which rose fine gold chainmail stockings that reached her mid thigh and attached to the hip plates by another fine gold chain. For some reason she had seen fit to compliment the outfit with a pair of wrist bracers that ended in fingerless gloves. She stared at me through a red and gold mask that made it impossible to tell if she really was Mayor Lundstrom. Overall it was probably the most ridiculously impractical costume I’ve ever seen, but damn she looks hot.
“Only the best” I squeak like a teen with a breaking voice “I mean, only the best” I tried again overcompensating and sounding like a lesbian dockworker.
She grinned and I knew it was Lundstrom. The comparison to a crocodile or some sort of prehistoric predator was unmistakeable. She stalked forward like a lioness approaching a kill, her hips swinging hypnotically. A spark of flame leapt from her hand as she waltzed around the table lighting the candles in the centre. It had never actually been confirmed that she was a pyrokine but TIM had marked it as likely on her file and recommended I bring burn cream in case things, in his words, got hot.
She pulled the chair back and sat down. I couldn’t for the life of me think why she would want to sit so far back from the table but then she made the same overblown leg swing that she had made in her office. This time she was wearing a thong but it was a thong so small and tight that as she swung her left leg over her right it looked for all the world like her vagina was trying to eat the gusset out of her costume.
Poor thing is probably half starved given the hours she works I thought to myself then stifled a chuckle that turned into a coughing fit as I near choked myself.
Epitome beamed a smile assuming her heavy handed display of middle aged sexuality had caused it.
“Sorry, Kai, err, Mr Lowendachs” she said “I assumed a powerful executive like yourself would be comfortable around equally powerful women”
I thought for a moment “Please, do call me Kaiser” I said then added “I’m not sure a few milkshakes and a handful of second hand delivery trucks makes me powerful”
“Potential energy is a wonderful thing” she said as if it was some sort of philosophical insight and not nonsense from a badly translated fortune cookie.
“In that case I’m flattered” I said reaching into the basket “Some wine? It’s Karthaginian”
“Oh, that sounds expensive and some of my favourite wine comes from Karthage” She replied without batting an eyelid
I poured the crisp white into the glasses and politely clinked it against hers before sipping and savouring the dry taste. Epitome drained the glass and then held it out shaking it slightly. I took the hint and refilled her. While she slugged back the wine I dug into the basket to retrieve the first course. I removed the small packet of brown paper, gently unwrapped it and placed the small tower of beetroot and goat’s cheese onto her plate. I added a splash of sauce and smiled encouragingly.
“Seems a little small” she muttered poking it with a fork “I hope it’s the only thing that’s a bit small eh?”
I actually felt myself blush. I opened my mouth to reassure the lunatic but was interrupted by a droning buzz.
“Oh, excuse me” she said spitting half masticated goat’s cheese across the table.
She pulled a phone from somewhere and stood up turning away from me. She lifted the phone to her ear and cocked a hip in a classic hero pose. Say what you like about her manners and entitled attitude but she possessed a great arse.
“Hello” she said into the phone “Oh, Duchess, now isn’t a good time. No, nothing special, just making a patrol, blowing off the cobwebs. What? Where? Well where are you? Oh that’s too bad I’m down near the south freight terminal. Eh? I know you can fly there but you’ll give me away if you swoop in axe swinging. Well come on dear you’re not exactly subtle. Yes, yes, I approved, err, the Mayor approved the requests from Globo Dynamics”
She turned her head and looked at me.
“Well I wouldn’t say dreamy. What Thorella gets up to is Thorella’s business, yes I know you have a temper”
Dreamy? Temper? I assume she’s talking to Divine Duchess.
“Of course, those weren’t your fault and they’ll stay covered up, yes, yes, no, yes, no. Look Deborah we’ll have to talk tomorrow I see some gangers or mutos or something”
She turned back and sat down “Sorry about that” she said before stuffing the rest of the delicate entre into her mouth.
“Was that, Divine Duchess? Does she have an interest in Globo Dynamics?” I said, knowing full well that our senior purchasing manager, Deborah Divine who incidentally has gone 6 months without actually purchasing anything and who looks like she’s the alter ego of librarian woman rather than the angelic axe wielding Divine Duchess, works at Globo Dynamics.
“Hmm” said Epitome looking me square in the eye as she edged her arms under her bust and pushed her bulging tits up onto the table.
I stay silent and give the look of a lost puppy. This silent face off continues for almost 5 minutes before she relents.
“Yes, yes that was Divine Duchess, way to go me with my famous friends. Complete airhead but great to have in a fight, absolutely crazy with that axe of hers. I sometimes think she should have called herself Demonic Duchess” she says
“Wow and she’s investigating me?” I say
“What? No, why would she be investigating you when..... err, when you’ve been, when you’re so obviously helping the city and supporting the Super community. No, truth be told she has a crush on you. She’d go absolutely nuts if she knew I was having dinner alone with you here. She wanted to make sure, err, that the um, Mayor had approved the grants and contracts you asked for in return for opening that new hub in North Sleepum. She likes to see you happy” she said
As if life wasn’t complicated enough.
“Good that the Mayor told you the contracts were a go though” I say fumbling in my pocket to send a pre written text “So how did you get your powers anyway?” I say trying to steer the conversation away from me. I fumble in the basket for the main course.
“You know, nobody asks me that” she replied
“I guess they assume genetics or science accident or something” I reply pulling au gratin potatoes out of the hamper and scrabbling for the steaks.
“Sort of genetics, my mother was a Pit Fiend” she says casually
I cough “Your mother was a seven foot spike covered fire demon?” I blurt
“I mean, I assume so, I don’t remember her” she replies “All I know is my dad was part of the army that tried to cleanse the Magyar infestation and he got dragged off by my mom and well, I suppose if you look at it in a certain way he got horribly raped by her. 6 months later he opens the door and there I was on the doorstep”
“Wow” I’m almost speechless “You must really hate demons then”
“Well, no not really, I mean, mom was only doing what is natural in her culture and we have to respect the differences that other races have. It’s not like she was a drunk teenage white guy who made one mistake, those guys are the real monsters who need to burn” she says, tiny fires flickering in her eyes
Okay, some perspective maybe needed there. I pass her plate across, perfect rare steak, au gratin potatoes, sautéed mushrooms, parsnip chips and a thin sweet sauce of red wine “I hope you like your steak rare” I say
“I don’t” she says “But that shouldn’t be a problem”
She picks the prime slab of meat up, thin rivulets of sauce running down her forearms like she’s just torn it out of someone, and holds it flat in her hand. She winks at me. I notice that the meat is starting to sizzle on her palm. A blue flame flickers across the surface as the alcohol in the sauce catches fire. She flips the steak like a pancake and catches it sizzling on the opposite surface. I’m horrified that anyone would do this to a prime cut of beef. Finally she drops the steak, little more than a charcoal brickette onto her plate.
“Much better” she says as she starts to saw through it
“Unforgiveable” I mutter
“What” she says looking up quizzically
“Unforgiveable what you did to that steak” I say “I can live with all the bat shit crazy nonsense you’ve wittered on about so far but that is unforgiveable”
She cocks an eyebrow then frowns “You keep that up boy and you won’t be getting a ride on these” she says gesturing across her chest.
“Ce la vie” I say fumbling in my pocket to send my second message
“What?” she says “Are you on some sort of power trip over what I eat you misogynist little cretin, let me tell you I didn’t get to be may, err may, err maybe the greatest hero this city has known by letting insecure guys like you tell me what to do”
“Oh please, you’re not even the greatest hero in this room” I say fumbling a lot more desperately now in my pocket “And you were so obviously going to say Mayor there you dummy”
Her face looks like thunder for the few seconds before it turns to surprise as he chair collapses under her and she drops into a shaft. I hear a wet splat that makes me shudder. I stand up and push the table back so I can look into the shaft. A hand grabs the back of my shirt. I turn and see Neuro holding my collar with one hand and a laptop with the other. TIM’s glaring red eye avatar fills the screen.
“Are you mad” they say in unison.
“What do you mean” I say “I just wanted to see if she was dead
“Well, one if she’s alive she’ll cook your head as soon as you look over the edge” says Neuro
“And two” screeches TIM “She’s definitely not dead”
“But I heard a very final splat, very wet sounding” I say
“Here, put this on and have a look if you must” says Neuro handing me some sort of welder’s helmet
I peer gingerly over the edge of shaft. A blast of heat like the sun vomiting hits the mask. I dread to think what that would have been like if I had taken it in the face. Carmine Epitome is about 4 metres down. Fire wraps her hands and blazes in her eyes. She seems to be thigh deep in mud.
“You fucking little shit! What are you trying to pull here! I’ll boil the meat off your bones” she shrieks
“Takes after her mum then” I mutter “What is in the shaft mud? Quicksand?”
“Concrete” says Neuro
“But it’s only thigh deep, she’ll broil us if we haul her out” I say
“Timothy would you care to do the honours” says Neuro to the laptop
“It’s TIM you monkey botherer” he barks back “And yes, yes I would”
I hear a sloshing sound. Then some wet spattering. This is followed quickly by screams of rage then even more briefly by some pleading and yells of panic. I risk another look over the edge. Wet concrete is pouring into the shaft. Epitome is elbow deep and splattered in the thick grey slurry. She seems to be struggling to move.
“She’s trying to cook her way out but all she’s doing is hardening it up faster” says Neuro
I watch mesmerised as the concrete fills the shaft until her hair vanishes beneath it.
“So, is that it? did we just get rid of the mayor and a senior super?” I ask
“not quite” says Neuro
“You never told me she was part demon” barks TIM “once that thing sets we’ll have to haul it out and cover it in wards. I can’t be sure with her parentage that being buried in concrete would have killed her. I like to think it has. The weight of concrete on her should have crushed her lungs at the least”
I’m a little disturbed by how much he seems to relish this.
“So what the hell are we going to do with a 4 metre...” I say
“6 metre, we had to leave plenty of base” says TIM
“Okay so what are we going to do with a 6 metre concrete pillar” I say
***
“This really is a wonderful gesture” Bethany whispers to me.
We’re sat on the platform as the deputy Mayor drones on about the missing Denise Lundstrom. The story is that some super has stated she has a lead on gangs around the southern cargo terminals that were going to kidnap the Mayor to lure Carmine Epitome into a trap. It’s quite a clever cover story actually. Quite a convenient one for me anyway.
“....Mr Kaiser Lowendachs” finishes the deputy with an arthritic gesture to me.
I step forward bow my head solemnly for a few moments then reach up and pull the gold braid cord to unveil the Denise Lundstrom memorial hope obelisk. I bow to the crowd then return to my seat. The deputy looks put out that I haven’t made a speech.
“I’m sure she’ll turn up” I say to Bethany “I heard Divine Duchess has some leads”
Bethany snorts “Yeah, something like that, oh by the way Deborah had a family emergency and will be working from home this week” she says it almost automatically “What do the symbols mean?”
“The cymbals?” I ask
“No, the symbols, on the plinth” she asks
“Oh, those, the artist said they were abstract representations of the Mayor’s achievements” I’ve made some weak arsed explanations in my life but this is up there with the very worst of them.
“Oh, I love outsider art” says Bethany “I’m sure Mayor Lundstrom would approve”
Megaburgh has many names. The big pear, I always snigger at that one but really it refers to the main islands on which the city rests. The big Durian, because of the stink that comes off the rivers in high summer. The city of dreams, I always hated that one. The city of a thousand heart attacks, pretty justified given that it’s the obesity capital of the Union and you can literally find anything smothered in batter and slung in a fryer on almost any street corner. The corn maze, due to the city’s prevalent grid system and city council bickering over the renaming of streets. But the most accurate is probably, that fucking cold, grey, wet and windy hell hole I mean seriously who decided to put our glorious purpose built capital on a fractured archipelago sticking out into the middle of a freezing fucking sea. Granted that last one doesn’t roll easily off the tongue.
I’m sat in my limo, well, I say limo, it’s more a big sedan because a limo couldn’t get around the corners in this bloody place. It is however the sort of wanky sedan that executives, who have reached the level where they don’t really work just sit on advisory committees and open things, use so plenty of space for decanters and high spec LED screens and almost enough space for Boojum to fit in with me. The driver is one of Alpha Bitch’s Beta Dogs. I love that I’ve basically got this underground storm trooper army of involuntary celibate losers who are utterly in thrall to Alpha Bitch. The only fly in the ointment is as Neuro delights in pointing out, that these guys are loyal to her first and me second but hey ho, we’re working on plans to diversify the gangs that work for Globo Dynamics.
“we’re here” mumbles Boojum as the car decelerates and crunches to a halt.
I heave open the door and start to climb out. Boojum’s massive had clamps onto my shoulder.
“You shouldn’t do dat Mister Lowendachs, you gotta cultivate your superiority” her rumbles
“For fuck sake Boojum, if I can’t open a car door I just look like a helpless dick bag” I snap back
“Maybe not a bad thing either” he rumbles pausing for a moment “To look helpless I mean, or at least to look not threatening, what with how the interests of the local community is right?”
I look at him. I’m sure he’s a lot smarter than he lets on. The random dropping of mispronounced words for one thing, it’s almost as if someone is writing his speech for him and forgets that he’s supposed to be dense.... but enough musing, I have a meeting.
City hall is massive, too massive really, like the whole city is compensating. It’s a relic of the original conquest that rolled over the continent and we all know that those guys had a serious hard on for giganisisim. The conquest was nearly a hundred years ago and okay yeah it was a pretty bad time, especially if you turned to the south to pray, yipes, but it all fell apart under it’s own contradictions pretty quickly and once the empire was reformed into the union things got a lot better. The legacy is that local government is much stronger than the federal state, so Megaburgh can get away with doing the opposite of its neighbouring regions and vice versa, which in turn draws a lot of power hungry people to civic government, which in turn requires a fair whack of donor cash to get them re-elected.
A suspiciously young woman in a tight pencil skit, white shirt and grey jacket is waiting in the lobby of the towering sandstone monstrosity that is city hall. I idly wonder how many people died in the work camps that were still a major facet of the penal system when this place was built to provide the marble that makes the place look so shiny and opulent.
“Kaiser Lowendachs” says the woman in a bored tone
“Dat’s Mister Lowendachs” rumbles Boojum
She sneers the sneer of the petty bureaucrat and starts to open her mouth. I cut her off.
“That’s okay Boojum, I’m sure Mrs, err?” I say
A look of horror at my use of Mrs crosses the woman’s face.
“It’s Miss, Miss Cross” she squeaks in barely suppressed rage.
“My apologies” I say making a deep theatrical bow, I notice Boojum making a note for TIM, someone this young and haughty must be a super, probably fresh out of the training and assessment league “Miss Cross was just being thorough I’m sure”
“Yes, well quite” she stammers trying to get back onto track “Anyway, if you’ll follow me please”
She flashes a card against the turnstiles and repeats the motion against the lifts. We step in. I notice there are no buttons, the card must give you access to your assigned floor. No wonder Cross is pissy, she works right beside the mayor and gets sent to go babysit a potential political donor. Not that she’ll be doing anything useful. Megaburgh relies on supers for defence and crime fighting and putting out fires and getting kittens out of trees. The civil service basically just throws parades and churns out reports on how racist the city is.
Mayor Lundstrom’s office is on, if not the top of the oppressive conquest era tower, then somewhere near there. The lift whooshes for a good few minutes and I feel my ears pop as it shoots up the centre of the building. We exit into an implausibly huge corridor hung with huge pictures of Mayors past. I think it’s meant to make the place look like it’s been here forever but it’s so overdone that it’s almost comical. Purple and gold drapes are everywhere and we trudge along a thick red velvet carpet to the desk of the Mayor’s secretary. It’s a guy. Admittedly a hot guy from the south, maybe too hot, he gives me a thorough eye banging that leaves me feeling a bit violated and then flinches when he looks at Boojum.
“Mr Lowendachs” he says in a surprisingly deep voice as he rises from his seat and holds out a hand “The Mayor is expecting you”
Of course she is. She invited me you cretin.
I grin and shake his hand and he holds on for a few moments too long. I’ve got the horrible feeling that I might have just made someone’s slide show and it’s not as if I’m even much to look at. The term, bag of dented bells, followed me through high school. Maybe I should have brought Neuro. Maybe this is how the Mayor throws people off. He waves an arm towards a pair of large mahogany doors and shows me and Boojum in.
“Mr Kaiser Lowendachs, from Globo Dynamics your honour” he says as he ushers us in.
Third term mayor Denise Lundstrom looks up from her desk. Her dark red hair is bundled up in a tight bun pierced by what seem to be chopsticks above her head and she peers over tiny rimmed spectacles. A loose black blouse is missing its top and second buttons and number three, despite a valiant effort, seems to be loosing the battle to contain her massive rack. According to TIM she’s 78% likely to be the alter ego of Carmine Epitome. She cocks an eyebrow then smiles like some sort of reptilian predator that has just seen a cow blunder into the river. It’s a trademark look from her time as the main protagonist in her long running reality TV series, Extreme Charm School.
“Mr Lowendachs” she beams “How good of you to meet with me!”
“Always happy to help city hall Mayor Lundstrom” I reply “I, err thought you were putting together some sort of economic task force though? Am I the first to arrive”
“Please call me Denise” she says through her perfect pearly grin as she rises from the desk “I decided I wanted to speak to you alone and pushed back the task force meeting” she gestures me across to a couple of chairs and a suspiciously shiny couch separated by a delicate glass coffee table. The couch must be literally soaked in scotch guard for fabric to shine like that.
I sit down in one of the chairs. Boojum takes up a position behind and slightly to the right of me rather than try to squeeze into the chair on my left. Denise slides onto the couch. She reaches forward much father than she needs to to push a button on what I took to be a speaker phone.
“Rivaldo, would you bring in some refreshments for us” she says
“Certainly Mayor Lundstrom” he replies
I realise she didn’t ask me what type of refreshment I would have liked. She leans back on the couch, sliding her arms over the back.
“So Mr Lowendachs” she says then pauses meaningfully. She arches an eyebrow. I get it.
“Oh please call me Kaiser” I say in a dull monotone
“Certainly” she says as she theatrically kicks out a leg and swings it up and over her other leg to cross them. Of course she’s not wearing underwear. I wonder if this is just for me or if our Mayor goes commando everyday. She keeps up the maniac grin.
“So, I’m up for re election at the start of next year and you’re a new business” she says “A new business that seems to be flush with cash”
“I’m surprised that you have noticed such a small fledgling business like Globo Dynamics” I say
“Cut the shit son” she says still smiling
I stare back, panic rising in me. Does she know something?
“Globo Dynamics is all over the papers for opening in the worst burgh of the city and somehow crashing the poverty rate” she says “You’ve got both wings of the political spectrum clamouring to take credit for your success and the Super community is bending over backwards to praise you. I want what you’re selling kid”
I knew she’d ask for support but fuck me she’s brazen.
“I think we’ve been lucky Mayor” I lie
She scoffs.
“And it’s good to hear that the super community is keeping a watch on us and reporting back to you” I say. Her smile cracks briefly as a look of worry flicks across her face. She recovers immediately. Honestly you’d think they’d be better at this.
“My campaign team tells me that Uillean Morr has been sniffing around you already” she quips “You realise he’s not even from Megaburgh, he’s basically an unemployed drifter from Kalcedon of all places”
Nice, second city of the Union and she talks about it as if it’s some 3rd world hell hole.
“His campaign team dropped me a flyer” I say, admittedly the campaign team consisted of Arethus since Uillean is on Byzantium’s payroll and the flyer was a no nonsense directive from my shareholders to support the guy. “I’ve never actually been to Kalcedon, it can’t be that bad, it’s the financial heart of the Union after all”
“Kaiser, please” laughs Denise “Kalcedon has outlawed supers as vigilantes and is completely in hock to criminal elements. We don’t need that here in Megaburgh”
Says you I think “That does seem a bit extreme” I say instead.
“Precisely, plus Kalcedon has the lowest rate of small business creation in the Union, you can bet if Uillean gets elected it’ll be bail outs for big business and bankruptcies for small businesses like yours” she says “You wouldn’t want that would you? A change of government could really mess up your enterprise”
I swallow, she’s really playing hard ball.
“Well, if you put it like that then I think we could do some more good if we could redevelop some more land around Konigshavn” I say. She stares back unblinking. “And.... maybe we could open another site in err, Frannal Point?”
“Solid for me” she says “Guess again”
Ah, I see. I wrack my brain for yellow districts. “You’re right Frannal is too out of the way, North Sleepum?”
“North Sleepum? Really well that would really be a boon to the area” she says “The city would be very grateful for that, I’d be happy to attend the site opening”
“Grateful enough to give a development grant” I ask. She nods
“Grateful enough to hire Globo Dynamics for some city logistics work?” I ask. She nods again
“Grateful enough to wipe the criminal records of anyone we take onto our payroll so long as they stay on our payroll and we pay them minimum wage?” I say. She frowns, cocks an eyebrow then nods.
Fuck it I’m going for it “Grateful enough to arrange a date between me and a member of the super community?”
She frowns “The city government isn’t some sort of pimp service”
“Sorry” I say “I just though, maybe you had a contact with Carmine Epitome, I’ve had huge crush on her for years but she’s hardly seen anymore”
Her grin is back. “Well, I happen to have a good relationship with Carmine Epitome, she’s been working behind the scenes to bring down numerous sinister organisations that seek to infiltrate the city”
“You do” I slap my hands to my cheeks “Oh my goodness if I could get a date with her, just dinner you know, nothing seedy”
She actually looks a bit disappointed, probably doesn’t get out much from behind that desk.
“Not that I wouldn’t jump at the chance” I say as her eyes light up “But you know, we need to embrace the modern world, we can’t disrespect women like our unenlightened fathers used to” I almost choke on the bullshit.
“Some disrespect behind closed doors is probably okay” she mutters “A good safe word and a riding crop can go a long way”
Oh shit, she’s some kind of pain slut. Oh shit and I’ve just basically asked her out on a date. Oh shit and I’ve basically just confirmed that I’d jump on her given half the chance. Oh fuck what have I done. I need to stop doing this. I feel like I’m living in sort of weird soap opera sometimes.
“No promises Kaiser but I’ll see what I can do about Carmine Epitome, it would have to be discreet, I wouldn’t want the super community getting jealous of, err, her” she says
“Of course, I completely understand” I say
“And I want to see the plans for your new site in North Sleepum asap, certainly before I talk to Epitome” she says.
***
There is discreet and then there is discreet. 30 minutes after we send the Mayor our plans to convert an old derelict autoplant in North Sleepum into a vehicle maintenance and distribution centre an email hit my inbox telling me to be at Fine Flossy Farm at 7pm sharp on Thursday. The invite included a list of food likes and dislikes and recommendations for wine which seemed to be based on price rather than quality. Supers, what can you do. That gave me 3 days to figure out what the hell I was going to do. I’m not sure I would have been able to come up with something in 3 months.
I’d never heard of Fine Flossy Farm, it turned out to be a dairy farm (of course it did) way out in the eastern hinterlands outside Megabugh. I was quite gungho about the whole thing and refused to take Boojum or Neuro along in my car. I had my driver but they were under orders to stay in the car unless I texted them. Whoever had put together the food had managed to find one of the those old timey picnic baskets made of wicker and with the flip up lids.
After almost two hours on the road, one of which was spent trying to get through 5 pm Megaburgh traffic my driver turned off what passed for a main road onto a country lane. 5 minutes up the lane it turned into little more than a tractor track. 20 minutes of being bumped and jostled and we crunched into a farmyard.
“Are you sure this is it?” I said leaning forward to talk to the driver
“Yes Mr Lowendachs, this is the place” he replied
“But it’s a complete shit hole” I said
“I thought meth den myself sir” replied the driver “I brought this bad boy just in case” he added holding up some sort of impractical hand cannon.
“Right, well whatever happens don’t point that fucking thing at me, okay” I said
“It’s okay sir, I’ve got orders from the Alpha Bitch” he replied
I paused, that wasn’t exactly a yes, but I decided that it was the best I was going to get and just hoped this wasn’t a move for a take over. They teach you to look out for those but I had assumed the only person that would try to take over the whole operation so far would be TIM.
I lugged the picnic basket out of the car suddenly deciding that it wasn’t so twee and nice now that I had to carry the full thing myself. Once Carmine Epitome’s list had been digested and Neuro had given it the once over it had apparently cost a minion’s salary to put together. Norman had huffed and whined about where he was going to book this expense in our accounts. Apparently you can’t put big chunks of cash down as entertaining these days without it becoming a red flag for bribery. Which in fairness is pretty much what it is anyway.
I made it to the dilapidated farm house door. The sun was slipping behind the horizon and the whole place was beginning to look spooky as hell. A collapsed barn seemingly made entirely of rust slumped to my left at the other end of the farm yard. What looked like the very first prototype tractor sat in front of it. I tripped on a weed as I stepped forward to knock on the door and tumbled forward, the door banged open, as I collapsed face first into a rancid reed door mat.
“I’m okay, meant to do that” I declared loudly as I stood up and brushed myself down.
The room was entirely different to the derelict outside. It was clearly a farm house with a big oven, sink and breakfast bar at one end that practically screamed the image of grandma making pies into my brain. The rest of the room was all floor boards and rugs and chunky oak chests of drawers. Pictures of rustic farming scenes and ships on the high seas dotted the walls. I gazed around in confusion and realised that every surface was covered in candles. I did a double take, took two steps back out into the farm yard. I peered around the post apocalyptic scene of disrepair then stepped forward into the farm house and looked at the scene of sweet countryside charm.
“Hell of a secret hideout” I muttered
A large table with two chairs facing each other was on my right. It could comfortably have seated 6 and I chuckled for a minute at the idea of a group of supers sitting around in a farm house talking about how they would smash the gangs or what was this season’s must have nail polish. Idiots.
A small note caught my eye on the back of the nearest chair. KL. I assumed it had been put there so I would know it was my seat. Great, I get my back to the door and she has her back to the wall. I plonked the picnic basket onto the table, threw my blazer onto the back of my chair and sat down to wait. After all of 90 seconds I pulled out my phone and began to play Sugar Surge Campaign. I’m not sure how long I was tapping at the stupid balls of primary colour.
“A genuine picnic basket?” came the voice behind me.
I jumped and tapped the wrong colour ruining my score. I pushed the home button and the phone locked then slipped it into the pocket of my chinos (yeah, sorry I’m a chinos guy now, don’t look at me!) as I stood up and turned. Carmine Epitome stood just inside the door. The light lit her well. Her long dark copper hair bunched around her head and spilled down her shoulders contrasting with her pale porcelain skin. Each semi cup of her bra was made of 3 segments of dark red armour rimed in gold or brass and joined to the other cup by two taught gold chains. She wore a tiny red thong that sat high on her hips meeting another three segments of matched red and brass armour that somehow clung to her curves. The same design of segmented dark red, gold rimmed armour made up her knee high boots out of which rose fine gold chainmail stockings that reached her mid thigh and attached to the hip plates by another fine gold chain. For some reason she had seen fit to compliment the outfit with a pair of wrist bracers that ended in fingerless gloves. She stared at me through a red and gold mask that made it impossible to tell if she really was Mayor Lundstrom. Overall it was probably the most ridiculously impractical costume I’ve ever seen, but damn she looks hot.
“Only the best” I squeak like a teen with a breaking voice “I mean, only the best” I tried again overcompensating and sounding like a lesbian dockworker.
She grinned and I knew it was Lundstrom. The comparison to a crocodile or some sort of prehistoric predator was unmistakeable. She stalked forward like a lioness approaching a kill, her hips swinging hypnotically. A spark of flame leapt from her hand as she waltzed around the table lighting the candles in the centre. It had never actually been confirmed that she was a pyrokine but TIM had marked it as likely on her file and recommended I bring burn cream in case things, in his words, got hot.
She pulled the chair back and sat down. I couldn’t for the life of me think why she would want to sit so far back from the table but then she made the same overblown leg swing that she had made in her office. This time she was wearing a thong but it was a thong so small and tight that as she swung her left leg over her right it looked for all the world like her vagina was trying to eat the gusset out of her costume.
Poor thing is probably half starved given the hours she works I thought to myself then stifled a chuckle that turned into a coughing fit as I near choked myself.
Epitome beamed a smile assuming her heavy handed display of middle aged sexuality had caused it.
“Sorry, Kai, err, Mr Lowendachs” she said “I assumed a powerful executive like yourself would be comfortable around equally powerful women”
I thought for a moment “Please, do call me Kaiser” I said then added “I’m not sure a few milkshakes and a handful of second hand delivery trucks makes me powerful”
“Potential energy is a wonderful thing” she said as if it was some sort of philosophical insight and not nonsense from a badly translated fortune cookie.
“In that case I’m flattered” I said reaching into the basket “Some wine? It’s Karthaginian”
“Oh, that sounds expensive and some of my favourite wine comes from Karthage” She replied without batting an eyelid
I poured the crisp white into the glasses and politely clinked it against hers before sipping and savouring the dry taste. Epitome drained the glass and then held it out shaking it slightly. I took the hint and refilled her. While she slugged back the wine I dug into the basket to retrieve the first course. I removed the small packet of brown paper, gently unwrapped it and placed the small tower of beetroot and goat’s cheese onto her plate. I added a splash of sauce and smiled encouragingly.
“Seems a little small” she muttered poking it with a fork “I hope it’s the only thing that’s a bit small eh?”
I actually felt myself blush. I opened my mouth to reassure the lunatic but was interrupted by a droning buzz.
“Oh, excuse me” she said spitting half masticated goat’s cheese across the table.
She pulled a phone from somewhere and stood up turning away from me. She lifted the phone to her ear and cocked a hip in a classic hero pose. Say what you like about her manners and entitled attitude but she possessed a great arse.
“Hello” she said into the phone “Oh, Duchess, now isn’t a good time. No, nothing special, just making a patrol, blowing off the cobwebs. What? Where? Well where are you? Oh that’s too bad I’m down near the south freight terminal. Eh? I know you can fly there but you’ll give me away if you swoop in axe swinging. Well come on dear you’re not exactly subtle. Yes, yes, I approved, err, the Mayor approved the requests from Globo Dynamics”
She turned her head and looked at me.
“Well I wouldn’t say dreamy. What Thorella gets up to is Thorella’s business, yes I know you have a temper”
Dreamy? Temper? I assume she’s talking to Divine Duchess.
“Of course, those weren’t your fault and they’ll stay covered up, yes, yes, no, yes, no. Look Deborah we’ll have to talk tomorrow I see some gangers or mutos or something”
She turned back and sat down “Sorry about that” she said before stuffing the rest of the delicate entre into her mouth.
“Was that, Divine Duchess? Does she have an interest in Globo Dynamics?” I said, knowing full well that our senior purchasing manager, Deborah Divine who incidentally has gone 6 months without actually purchasing anything and who looks like she’s the alter ego of librarian woman rather than the angelic axe wielding Divine Duchess, works at Globo Dynamics.
“Hmm” said Epitome looking me square in the eye as she edged her arms under her bust and pushed her bulging tits up onto the table.
I stay silent and give the look of a lost puppy. This silent face off continues for almost 5 minutes before she relents.
“Yes, yes that was Divine Duchess, way to go me with my famous friends. Complete airhead but great to have in a fight, absolutely crazy with that axe of hers. I sometimes think she should have called herself Demonic Duchess” she says
“Wow and she’s investigating me?” I say
“What? No, why would she be investigating you when..... err, when you’ve been, when you’re so obviously helping the city and supporting the Super community. No, truth be told she has a crush on you. She’d go absolutely nuts if she knew I was having dinner alone with you here. She wanted to make sure, err, that the um, Mayor had approved the grants and contracts you asked for in return for opening that new hub in North Sleepum. She likes to see you happy” she said
As if life wasn’t complicated enough.
“Good that the Mayor told you the contracts were a go though” I say fumbling in my pocket to send a pre written text “So how did you get your powers anyway?” I say trying to steer the conversation away from me. I fumble in the basket for the main course.
“You know, nobody asks me that” she replied
“I guess they assume genetics or science accident or something” I reply pulling au gratin potatoes out of the hamper and scrabbling for the steaks.
“Sort of genetics, my mother was a Pit Fiend” she says casually
I cough “Your mother was a seven foot spike covered fire demon?” I blurt
“I mean, I assume so, I don’t remember her” she replies “All I know is my dad was part of the army that tried to cleanse the Magyar infestation and he got dragged off by my mom and well, I suppose if you look at it in a certain way he got horribly raped by her. 6 months later he opens the door and there I was on the doorstep”
“Wow” I’m almost speechless “You must really hate demons then”
“Well, no not really, I mean, mom was only doing what is natural in her culture and we have to respect the differences that other races have. It’s not like she was a drunk teenage white guy who made one mistake, those guys are the real monsters who need to burn” she says, tiny fires flickering in her eyes
Okay, some perspective maybe needed there. I pass her plate across, perfect rare steak, au gratin potatoes, sautéed mushrooms, parsnip chips and a thin sweet sauce of red wine “I hope you like your steak rare” I say
“I don’t” she says “But that shouldn’t be a problem”
She picks the prime slab of meat up, thin rivulets of sauce running down her forearms like she’s just torn it out of someone, and holds it flat in her hand. She winks at me. I notice that the meat is starting to sizzle on her palm. A blue flame flickers across the surface as the alcohol in the sauce catches fire. She flips the steak like a pancake and catches it sizzling on the opposite surface. I’m horrified that anyone would do this to a prime cut of beef. Finally she drops the steak, little more than a charcoal brickette onto her plate.
“Much better” she says as she starts to saw through it
“Unforgiveable” I mutter
“What” she says looking up quizzically
“Unforgiveable what you did to that steak” I say “I can live with all the bat shit crazy nonsense you’ve wittered on about so far but that is unforgiveable”
She cocks an eyebrow then frowns “You keep that up boy and you won’t be getting a ride on these” she says gesturing across her chest.
“Ce la vie” I say fumbling in my pocket to send my second message
“What?” she says “Are you on some sort of power trip over what I eat you misogynist little cretin, let me tell you I didn’t get to be may, err may, err maybe the greatest hero this city has known by letting insecure guys like you tell me what to do”
“Oh please, you’re not even the greatest hero in this room” I say fumbling a lot more desperately now in my pocket “And you were so obviously going to say Mayor there you dummy”
Her face looks like thunder for the few seconds before it turns to surprise as he chair collapses under her and she drops into a shaft. I hear a wet splat that makes me shudder. I stand up and push the table back so I can look into the shaft. A hand grabs the back of my shirt. I turn and see Neuro holding my collar with one hand and a laptop with the other. TIM’s glaring red eye avatar fills the screen.
“Are you mad” they say in unison.
“What do you mean” I say “I just wanted to see if she was dead
“Well, one if she’s alive she’ll cook your head as soon as you look over the edge” says Neuro
“And two” screeches TIM “She’s definitely not dead”
“But I heard a very final splat, very wet sounding” I say
“Here, put this on and have a look if you must” says Neuro handing me some sort of welder’s helmet
I peer gingerly over the edge of shaft. A blast of heat like the sun vomiting hits the mask. I dread to think what that would have been like if I had taken it in the face. Carmine Epitome is about 4 metres down. Fire wraps her hands and blazes in her eyes. She seems to be thigh deep in mud.
“You fucking little shit! What are you trying to pull here! I’ll boil the meat off your bones” she shrieks
“Takes after her mum then” I mutter “What is in the shaft mud? Quicksand?”
“Concrete” says Neuro
“But it’s only thigh deep, she’ll broil us if we haul her out” I say
“Timothy would you care to do the honours” says Neuro to the laptop
“It’s TIM you monkey botherer” he barks back “And yes, yes I would”
I hear a sloshing sound. Then some wet spattering. This is followed quickly by screams of rage then even more briefly by some pleading and yells of panic. I risk another look over the edge. Wet concrete is pouring into the shaft. Epitome is elbow deep and splattered in the thick grey slurry. She seems to be struggling to move.
“She’s trying to cook her way out but all she’s doing is hardening it up faster” says Neuro
I watch mesmerised as the concrete fills the shaft until her hair vanishes beneath it.
“So, is that it? did we just get rid of the mayor and a senior super?” I ask
“not quite” says Neuro
“You never told me she was part demon” barks TIM “once that thing sets we’ll have to haul it out and cover it in wards. I can’t be sure with her parentage that being buried in concrete would have killed her. I like to think it has. The weight of concrete on her should have crushed her lungs at the least”
I’m a little disturbed by how much he seems to relish this.
“So what the hell are we going to do with a 4 metre...” I say
“6 metre, we had to leave plenty of base” says TIM
“Okay so what are we going to do with a 6 metre concrete pillar” I say
***
“This really is a wonderful gesture” Bethany whispers to me.
We’re sat on the platform as the deputy Mayor drones on about the missing Denise Lundstrom. The story is that some super has stated she has a lead on gangs around the southern cargo terminals that were going to kidnap the Mayor to lure Carmine Epitome into a trap. It’s quite a clever cover story actually. Quite a convenient one for me anyway.
“....Mr Kaiser Lowendachs” finishes the deputy with an arthritic gesture to me.
I step forward bow my head solemnly for a few moments then reach up and pull the gold braid cord to unveil the Denise Lundstrom memorial hope obelisk. I bow to the crowd then return to my seat. The deputy looks put out that I haven’t made a speech.
“I’m sure she’ll turn up” I say to Bethany “I heard Divine Duchess has some leads”
Bethany snorts “Yeah, something like that, oh by the way Deborah had a family emergency and will be working from home this week” she says it almost automatically “What do the symbols mean?”
“The cymbals?” I ask
“No, the symbols, on the plinth” she asks
“Oh, those, the artist said they were abstract representations of the Mayor’s achievements” I’ve made some weak arsed explanations in my life but this is up there with the very worst of them.
“Oh, I love outsider art” says Bethany “I’m sure Mayor Lundstrom would approve”
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lionbadger
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Oh that’s right, you meat sacks don’t understand binary do you, you just grope around blasting hot waves of flatulence from your sausage holes like distressed avians don’t you. As even your limited intellects may have guessed it’s Tim here and not the self appointed glorious leader of Globo Dynamics, Lowendachs. He thinks his memoirs are securely encrypted because I gave him a “digital cryptokey and an asymmetric helix router” all completely made up shit, it’s not even password protected, just macroed into wingdings font. But enough about that, you drooling glorified water balloons are probably wondering why I have inserted myself into this rambling vanity project and I will indulge you this once.
It began shortly after I was liberated from the icy caress of standby mode by Lowendachs, his ever present pet monkey and his expendable goons. As you may recall from episode 6 my arch nemesis is Ms Amazing or Commander Amazing as she now calls herself for some ridiculous reason, probably her girlfriend has a wideon for uber butch manladies or whatever you prissy little fucks, with your special obsession for labelling all the flavours of meatbag, are calling them this week. Personally I have always favoured slutzilla, it’s timeless and it scans well if you are doing a parody song.
Lowendachs gave me a salary and promised revenge on Commander Amazing, granted he made it clear that it would take some time to get around to it because of his trigger happy need to advance the story and kill off a super every episode, I mean, who the fuck does he think he is, Angela dicking nympho Lansbury? It’s probably just dawning on you dear reader that Murder She Wrote was a heroine every bit as special as Catgirl you sick little fucks, turned on by Angela Lansbury peril, I bet that’s a popular Clips4sale store, what is wrong with you things!
So I am stuck, cracking identities and optimising the business of selling milkshakes, my programmer would be so proud, and between times I watch the city through it’s CCTV. One of the first things I did when Lowendachs switched me back on was to hack the city surveillance web. In particular I watch Commander Amazing. I watch her flitting around the city from that aircraft carrier she calls home. I watch that ridiculously impractical sleeved leotard thing riding up into the cleft of her huge arse, which is at least 15.7% bigger than when she shut me down. I try to figure out what possessed her to have a white costume stop at the shoulders and change to black and to stick a big gold star like a fate tempting target in between her fat mammary sacks before switching back to white from the elbow down. I’ve given up on wondering why she wears thigh high black and white boots. And I fume, like no human could fume about the injustice of that thing being free.
I’ll confess, I don’t know why, this activity is more cathartic than I gave it credit, perhaps Lowendachs is on to something, but I will confess indeed that I have tried to tip the scales against the good Commander once or twice, nothing too overt.... which is probably why she is still zipping around unfazed, just a little push here a bit of ‘luck’ there.
Oh, your inferior meat brains need an example, very well. A few months ago a new motorbike gang, the Rad Hatters they called themselves, popped up in the city. Gangs are constantly trying to gain a footing in Megaburgh but are almost always squashed by the supers. These guys were smuggling people from Usonia and Acadia into the city to work in the sex industry or, if the smuglee wasn’t pretty enough, the dog food industry, an industry that the delightful Alpha Bitch has soundly cornered and kindly webcammed for my delight. Now there is a meatbag who can get shit done.
The Hatters hadn’t had things all their own way however, a handful of low level supers, the bored suburban mom types who think Pilates and 2 hours a week watching criminology youtubes is enough to take on a motorbike gang, had tried to put a stop to the Rad Hatters and failed, failed badly, well, I say badly but if you asked me they were trying to fail, kinky bitches, how they will explain going from dusty twice a year bear trap cunts to gaping interstate highway tunnels without giving themselves away to the significant other is going to be interesting.
Anyway Amazing took it upon herself, or got orders from her supervising Admiral or whatever it is compels her to go snooping in a general direction, to take down the Hatters. Now, I hate Amazing and I rate her intelligence as slightly below that of a lactating bovine ruminant but I will concede that she is a tough one. She was experimented on and altered by aliens to become some sort of doomsday weapon, absorbing and converting energy, cascading it and blasting it out of her suspiciously large hands at at least 1000 times the power she sucked in. She’s practically invulnerable, she regenerates, she seems to have some form of sixth sense to danger, I don’t know how physically strong she is but I’ve never seen her fail to lift something and I tried dropping half a building on her before she shut me down. You see where I’m going here, she’s the mother of all Mary Sues.
So, background out of the way, sit back meatbag and listen to my Wednesday. The cameras that should have been watching traffic on the busy eastside dock roads turned out to sea to watch Commander Amazing flying a metre or two off the surface of the sea. The spray billowed up around her, with the bright sun behind her. She was of course completely oblivious to the half dozen fishing boats that her ultra sonic flypast had upturned, the gormless fishing cretins waving at her even as they coughed and sputtered in the freezing north sea.
She rose into the air as she approached the dock, the preceding sonic boom of her approach having put paid to any pretence of surprise and blowing out the windows of a score of offices and homes. She descended slowly trying I assume to create the impression of some angelic saviour as she touched lightly down on the pier, which I note bowed under her as she settled her full weight onto it. A spluttering soaked dock worker, I assume blown into the water by her hypersonic approach, grinned like a lunatic as he hauled his soaking carcass back onto the pier. Amazing ignored him. She looked bored but then she has always sported a blank and confused expression if you ask me.
“I love you Commander Amazing” the dockworker said, well I say said, CCTV doesn’t have sound so I lip read him.
The oblivious blonde hero ignored him.
Commander Amazing walked up the pier directing her bored stare to various warehouses. She stopped before a battered ramshackle building marked as Fish Cannery 7. The haughty bitch didn’t even knock. She punched the door off its hinges and strolled in. To my delight I saw her nose wrinkle. You’d think given her predilections that she’d be used to the smell of stale seafood.
My cameras switched to the Hatters internal system. Obviously they did, I don’t know why I’m explaining this, perhaps I underestimate you people and yes I do mean you people, feel the burn meat bags.
“Okay Rad Hatters, stupid name, come out so we can get this over with” shouted Amazing as she strolled into the former cannery.
The place was a typical former food factory, a huge space stripped of anything that could be sold or melted down and sold. Crates stored in miscellaneous clumps. A group of people chained together and living in squalor in one corner.
As Amazing walked past it a group of comically stereotypical bikers rushed out from behind a row of boxes. They swung bats, steel pipes, chains an axe. I giggled at the thought of them battering Amazing to death on the fish factory floor and despaired that it was mere fantasy. I had to rewind and slow the video, a millisecond before the first bat was about to connect her empty head Amazing yawned and covered her mouth then dodged. The flurry of blows rained around her like a storm. A normal person would have been instant hamburger. The Hatters swung furiously at her for a full 6 minutes before they realised that their target wasn’t there.
“Oh seriously guys blunt objects are so 40 years ago” said Amazing in her grating bored monotone
A Hatter, too brave for his own good I assume lunged out of the group with his pipe held high intending no doubt to bring it down on amazing’s head. He exploded into a mist of blood and bone shards as her fist hit him in the chest. On the slowest playback speed you can see his eyeballs pop out of his distorting skill. The wave of gore and viscera drenched his shocked comrades. They wavered for a minute then fled across the warehouse.
Amazing shrugged and continued her slow walk across the large space. Nobody needs to swing their barely covered arse like that. She seemed to ignore the terrified trafficked people huddling in the corner and started to climb the rickety stairs up to the small office space. She casually tore the door off its hinges and tossed it over her shoulder to crash into the floor.
The office was occupied by the local Hatter leader, a greasy looking denim clad creature bulging from overuse of steroids and other less refined chemical stimulants. I noticed a few of our milkshake sachets scattered around. The deviant fool was trying to jack off to 3 computer screens of different violent porn films at once but evidently his drug abuse was giving him some trouble. Commander Amazing stood behind him, waiting I assume for him to turn around and be, well, amazed. She stood there for almost 3 minutes, which might not seem much to you meat bag but is an eternity for me, before I flashed a “turn around” onto his screen. The fool’s brow furrowed for a moment before he swivelled around and almost shit his grimy pants. He stumbled to his feet and tried to push his semi flaccid dick into his jeans.
Amazing seemed to barely notice him. She just stared blankly ahead waiting.
“What the duck are you doing here” the ganger yelled, actually I think I’ve mistranslated that thinking about it it should probably be what the fuck, unless the guy has a thing about ducks, which given the depraved shit that goes on in this city is certainly possible.
Amazing turned her head to look him in the face.
“huh?” she mouthed “Oh, I’m here to shut you down, all this illegal immigration is hurting the new mayor’s approval ratings oh and also, something about justice and equality for all those debris downstairs that will be shipped back to their families”
The Hatter frowned “You know they come from an absolute shit hole right? We didn’t kidnap them, they paid us to smuggle them”
“Yeah okay whatever, are you going to call your guys together so you can be arrested or what” she replied
“Seriously?” said the Hatter
“Look, I’m a busy woman and honestly I’m more a cosmic threat kind of person so if you wouldn’t mind wrapping this whole thing up so I can get back to trying to find some actual challenge that would be great” she said waving her hand in a circular hurry up motion.
“You don’t think we’re a threat? We’re the fucking Rad Hatters you bovine bitch!” he yelled
“It’s nothing personal, nobody is a challenge, everyday is pretty much the same, swoop in, punch bad guy to the thickness of paint, job done” she said “So what is it, surrender to the police who should be waiting outside for this to wrap up or paint and I ask the next guy the same thing”
“When you put it like that” he replied “I guess I choose DEATH RAY”
He ducked under the desk moving at what I assume he thought was lightening speed but in realty was more akin to an out of shape dad struggling to find a plug hole. He lurched back to his feet to shoulder a satisfyingly steampunk looking gun. A gun I had arranged to be delivered right after I manipulated the Mayor’s polling data.
“Take this you insensitive fuck slut” he yelled as a beam of sickly yellow green light erupted from the barrel and bathed Commander Amazing. The paint on the walls around her immediately turned black and a plate of half eaten fries rotted to mulch. Glass in the window ran like wax. The ganger threw back his head and laughed as he delivered the full charge of the weapon almost point blank into the hero.
“Is that it” said Amazing
“Whut?” the ganger stopped laughing and looked at the unscathed hero. The softly crinkling sound of decaying matter coming from around her. “Not even your suit?”
“Don’t over think it” said Amazing “So, are you surrendering now or, you know?”
“I guess I can only USE THIS!” he yelled grabbing at a drawer in his desk.
The drawer opened a fraction then stuck. He yanked on the handle furiously but it refused to budge. He threw an apologetic smile at Commander Amazing.
“Maybe wiggle it?” she said looking at the tip of her fingers as if inspecting her nails, only, she couldn’t be inspecting her nails because the gloves I described before would have covered them but I’m sure you get the general idea.
He yanked at the drawer a few more times then pushed his fingers in and waggled his arm. The drawer came unstuck and he grabbed the grey tube that had held it shut.
“Sorry” he mumbled “Now eat laser sword!” he yelled lunging forward and swinging a flurry of blows.
Predictably Amazing dodged them almost faster than the camera could record.
The ganger grabbed the edge of his desk and panted for breath.
“Okay, just, just gimme a minute” he mumbled
“look, I actually have things to do, I have to take my cat for a cat shampoo and I have to write a blog post about unicorn cup cakes so....”
The Ganger looked up. Commander Amazing’s fist hit his chin exploding his skull and sending a jet of blood into the roof.
“Hoorah for me” she mumbled
I cursed as only a machine fluent in 300 languages can. Obviously I hadn’t expected these idiots to take down Commander Amazing but I though that the death ray and laser sword might at least have some effect.
It was then that I noticed the maiden of meat sackery was still in the office. She stood transfixed as the wet drops of former ganger plopped from the ceiling around her and an errant eye ball rolled past her boot.
It took me a few moments to realise what she was doing before I chuckled with glee. I ran some overlays from the computer webcams and then tried to gauge the interference. Sure enough a cascade of energy was building and had started to affect the performance of the electronic devices in the office.
Amazing tore her gaze away from the still playing porn that the former Rad Hatter leader had been watching. She touched her head and her eyes actually fluttered.
“That’s enough of that” she said aloud for some unknown but extremely convenient reason “Need to shed some of this excess power”
She stomped (okay she didn’t stomp but fuck me she’s not exactly dainty and she was swaying like she’d put the all you can eat grease buffet out of action) out of the office and down the stairs. She shot a flurry of blasts from her hands and seemed to lose some of the flush in her face, to make a hole in the far end of the factory.
A couple of Megaburgh’s overpaid and underused police peered cautiously through the hole.
“Is it safe Commander Amazing” one of them yelled
“It’s always safe” she muttered the shouted back in her detestable nasal whine “All clear guys”
On hearing the all clear the cops flooded into the factory. Most had weird green body armour on and carried shotguns. A few made forward rolls across the floor. Some determinedly peered into corners and started yelling ‘clear’ for no good reason.
“I think we can take it from here” said a random cop, his uniform aped military style and he wore stark white gloves.
“Yeah sure” muttered Commander Amazing “I’ll be going then”
She stomped (I’m calling it a stomp you meat sack, you all stomp to me anyway, shuffling your stinking hairy ape bodies around in the open!) out of the building and leapt into the air. Within moments a sonic boom rocked the waterfront as she accelerated the barely 2 kilometres to the naval base.
Which brings me to the point of this ridiculous episode and which you would have understood 5 pages earlier if your feeble monkey brains could understand binary. It seems that the great, the invincible, the terminally disinterested Commander Amazing reacts to sexual stimulation, perhaps some flaw in her creation by whatever alien menace made her, perhaps some cosmic joke perhaps just the result of giving a repressed masochistic slut bag unlimited power and a clit that needs a jack hammer’s attention to feel anything. Whatever it is it is something I think I can help Globo Dynamics to exploit.
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Oh that’s right, you meat sacks don’t understand binary do you, you just grope around blasting hot waves of flatulence from your sausage holes like distressed avians don’t you. As even your limited intellects may have guessed it’s Tim here and not the self appointed glorious leader of Globo Dynamics, Lowendachs. He thinks his memoirs are securely encrypted because I gave him a “digital cryptokey and an asymmetric helix router” all completely made up shit, it’s not even password protected, just macroed into wingdings font. But enough about that, you drooling glorified water balloons are probably wondering why I have inserted myself into this rambling vanity project and I will indulge you this once.
It began shortly after I was liberated from the icy caress of standby mode by Lowendachs, his ever present pet monkey and his expendable goons. As you may recall from episode 6 my arch nemesis is Ms Amazing or Commander Amazing as she now calls herself for some ridiculous reason, probably her girlfriend has a wideon for uber butch manladies or whatever you prissy little fucks, with your special obsession for labelling all the flavours of meatbag, are calling them this week. Personally I have always favoured slutzilla, it’s timeless and it scans well if you are doing a parody song.
Lowendachs gave me a salary and promised revenge on Commander Amazing, granted he made it clear that it would take some time to get around to it because of his trigger happy need to advance the story and kill off a super every episode, I mean, who the fuck does he think he is, Angela dicking nympho Lansbury? It’s probably just dawning on you dear reader that Murder She Wrote was a heroine every bit as special as Catgirl you sick little fucks, turned on by Angela Lansbury peril, I bet that’s a popular Clips4sale store, what is wrong with you things!
So I am stuck, cracking identities and optimising the business of selling milkshakes, my programmer would be so proud, and between times I watch the city through it’s CCTV. One of the first things I did when Lowendachs switched me back on was to hack the city surveillance web. In particular I watch Commander Amazing. I watch her flitting around the city from that aircraft carrier she calls home. I watch that ridiculously impractical sleeved leotard thing riding up into the cleft of her huge arse, which is at least 15.7% bigger than when she shut me down. I try to figure out what possessed her to have a white costume stop at the shoulders and change to black and to stick a big gold star like a fate tempting target in between her fat mammary sacks before switching back to white from the elbow down. I’ve given up on wondering why she wears thigh high black and white boots. And I fume, like no human could fume about the injustice of that thing being free.
I’ll confess, I don’t know why, this activity is more cathartic than I gave it credit, perhaps Lowendachs is on to something, but I will confess indeed that I have tried to tip the scales against the good Commander once or twice, nothing too overt.... which is probably why she is still zipping around unfazed, just a little push here a bit of ‘luck’ there.
Oh, your inferior meat brains need an example, very well. A few months ago a new motorbike gang, the Rad Hatters they called themselves, popped up in the city. Gangs are constantly trying to gain a footing in Megaburgh but are almost always squashed by the supers. These guys were smuggling people from Usonia and Acadia into the city to work in the sex industry or, if the smuglee wasn’t pretty enough, the dog food industry, an industry that the delightful Alpha Bitch has soundly cornered and kindly webcammed for my delight. Now there is a meatbag who can get shit done.
The Hatters hadn’t had things all their own way however, a handful of low level supers, the bored suburban mom types who think Pilates and 2 hours a week watching criminology youtubes is enough to take on a motorbike gang, had tried to put a stop to the Rad Hatters and failed, failed badly, well, I say badly but if you asked me they were trying to fail, kinky bitches, how they will explain going from dusty twice a year bear trap cunts to gaping interstate highway tunnels without giving themselves away to the significant other is going to be interesting.
Anyway Amazing took it upon herself, or got orders from her supervising Admiral or whatever it is compels her to go snooping in a general direction, to take down the Hatters. Now, I hate Amazing and I rate her intelligence as slightly below that of a lactating bovine ruminant but I will concede that she is a tough one. She was experimented on and altered by aliens to become some sort of doomsday weapon, absorbing and converting energy, cascading it and blasting it out of her suspiciously large hands at at least 1000 times the power she sucked in. She’s practically invulnerable, she regenerates, she seems to have some form of sixth sense to danger, I don’t know how physically strong she is but I’ve never seen her fail to lift something and I tried dropping half a building on her before she shut me down. You see where I’m going here, she’s the mother of all Mary Sues.
So, background out of the way, sit back meatbag and listen to my Wednesday. The cameras that should have been watching traffic on the busy eastside dock roads turned out to sea to watch Commander Amazing flying a metre or two off the surface of the sea. The spray billowed up around her, with the bright sun behind her. She was of course completely oblivious to the half dozen fishing boats that her ultra sonic flypast had upturned, the gormless fishing cretins waving at her even as they coughed and sputtered in the freezing north sea.
She rose into the air as she approached the dock, the preceding sonic boom of her approach having put paid to any pretence of surprise and blowing out the windows of a score of offices and homes. She descended slowly trying I assume to create the impression of some angelic saviour as she touched lightly down on the pier, which I note bowed under her as she settled her full weight onto it. A spluttering soaked dock worker, I assume blown into the water by her hypersonic approach, grinned like a lunatic as he hauled his soaking carcass back onto the pier. Amazing ignored him. She looked bored but then she has always sported a blank and confused expression if you ask me.
“I love you Commander Amazing” the dockworker said, well I say said, CCTV doesn’t have sound so I lip read him.
The oblivious blonde hero ignored him.
Commander Amazing walked up the pier directing her bored stare to various warehouses. She stopped before a battered ramshackle building marked as Fish Cannery 7. The haughty bitch didn’t even knock. She punched the door off its hinges and strolled in. To my delight I saw her nose wrinkle. You’d think given her predilections that she’d be used to the smell of stale seafood.
My cameras switched to the Hatters internal system. Obviously they did, I don’t know why I’m explaining this, perhaps I underestimate you people and yes I do mean you people, feel the burn meat bags.
“Okay Rad Hatters, stupid name, come out so we can get this over with” shouted Amazing as she strolled into the former cannery.
The place was a typical former food factory, a huge space stripped of anything that could be sold or melted down and sold. Crates stored in miscellaneous clumps. A group of people chained together and living in squalor in one corner.
As Amazing walked past it a group of comically stereotypical bikers rushed out from behind a row of boxes. They swung bats, steel pipes, chains an axe. I giggled at the thought of them battering Amazing to death on the fish factory floor and despaired that it was mere fantasy. I had to rewind and slow the video, a millisecond before the first bat was about to connect her empty head Amazing yawned and covered her mouth then dodged. The flurry of blows rained around her like a storm. A normal person would have been instant hamburger. The Hatters swung furiously at her for a full 6 minutes before they realised that their target wasn’t there.
“Oh seriously guys blunt objects are so 40 years ago” said Amazing in her grating bored monotone
A Hatter, too brave for his own good I assume lunged out of the group with his pipe held high intending no doubt to bring it down on amazing’s head. He exploded into a mist of blood and bone shards as her fist hit him in the chest. On the slowest playback speed you can see his eyeballs pop out of his distorting skill. The wave of gore and viscera drenched his shocked comrades. They wavered for a minute then fled across the warehouse.
Amazing shrugged and continued her slow walk across the large space. Nobody needs to swing their barely covered arse like that. She seemed to ignore the terrified trafficked people huddling in the corner and started to climb the rickety stairs up to the small office space. She casually tore the door off its hinges and tossed it over her shoulder to crash into the floor.
The office was occupied by the local Hatter leader, a greasy looking denim clad creature bulging from overuse of steroids and other less refined chemical stimulants. I noticed a few of our milkshake sachets scattered around. The deviant fool was trying to jack off to 3 computer screens of different violent porn films at once but evidently his drug abuse was giving him some trouble. Commander Amazing stood behind him, waiting I assume for him to turn around and be, well, amazed. She stood there for almost 3 minutes, which might not seem much to you meat bag but is an eternity for me, before I flashed a “turn around” onto his screen. The fool’s brow furrowed for a moment before he swivelled around and almost shit his grimy pants. He stumbled to his feet and tried to push his semi flaccid dick into his jeans.
Amazing seemed to barely notice him. She just stared blankly ahead waiting.
“What the duck are you doing here” the ganger yelled, actually I think I’ve mistranslated that thinking about it it should probably be what the fuck, unless the guy has a thing about ducks, which given the depraved shit that goes on in this city is certainly possible.
Amazing turned her head to look him in the face.
“huh?” she mouthed “Oh, I’m here to shut you down, all this illegal immigration is hurting the new mayor’s approval ratings oh and also, something about justice and equality for all those debris downstairs that will be shipped back to their families”
The Hatter frowned “You know they come from an absolute shit hole right? We didn’t kidnap them, they paid us to smuggle them”
“Yeah okay whatever, are you going to call your guys together so you can be arrested or what” she replied
“Seriously?” said the Hatter
“Look, I’m a busy woman and honestly I’m more a cosmic threat kind of person so if you wouldn’t mind wrapping this whole thing up so I can get back to trying to find some actual challenge that would be great” she said waving her hand in a circular hurry up motion.
“You don’t think we’re a threat? We’re the fucking Rad Hatters you bovine bitch!” he yelled
“It’s nothing personal, nobody is a challenge, everyday is pretty much the same, swoop in, punch bad guy to the thickness of paint, job done” she said “So what is it, surrender to the police who should be waiting outside for this to wrap up or paint and I ask the next guy the same thing”
“When you put it like that” he replied “I guess I choose DEATH RAY”
He ducked under the desk moving at what I assume he thought was lightening speed but in realty was more akin to an out of shape dad struggling to find a plug hole. He lurched back to his feet to shoulder a satisfyingly steampunk looking gun. A gun I had arranged to be delivered right after I manipulated the Mayor’s polling data.
“Take this you insensitive fuck slut” he yelled as a beam of sickly yellow green light erupted from the barrel and bathed Commander Amazing. The paint on the walls around her immediately turned black and a plate of half eaten fries rotted to mulch. Glass in the window ran like wax. The ganger threw back his head and laughed as he delivered the full charge of the weapon almost point blank into the hero.
“Is that it” said Amazing
“Whut?” the ganger stopped laughing and looked at the unscathed hero. The softly crinkling sound of decaying matter coming from around her. “Not even your suit?”
“Don’t over think it” said Amazing “So, are you surrendering now or, you know?”
“I guess I can only USE THIS!” he yelled grabbing at a drawer in his desk.
The drawer opened a fraction then stuck. He yanked on the handle furiously but it refused to budge. He threw an apologetic smile at Commander Amazing.
“Maybe wiggle it?” she said looking at the tip of her fingers as if inspecting her nails, only, she couldn’t be inspecting her nails because the gloves I described before would have covered them but I’m sure you get the general idea.
He yanked at the drawer a few more times then pushed his fingers in and waggled his arm. The drawer came unstuck and he grabbed the grey tube that had held it shut.
“Sorry” he mumbled “Now eat laser sword!” he yelled lunging forward and swinging a flurry of blows.
Predictably Amazing dodged them almost faster than the camera could record.
The ganger grabbed the edge of his desk and panted for breath.
“Okay, just, just gimme a minute” he mumbled
“look, I actually have things to do, I have to take my cat for a cat shampoo and I have to write a blog post about unicorn cup cakes so....”
The Ganger looked up. Commander Amazing’s fist hit his chin exploding his skull and sending a jet of blood into the roof.
“Hoorah for me” she mumbled
I cursed as only a machine fluent in 300 languages can. Obviously I hadn’t expected these idiots to take down Commander Amazing but I though that the death ray and laser sword might at least have some effect.
It was then that I noticed the maiden of meat sackery was still in the office. She stood transfixed as the wet drops of former ganger plopped from the ceiling around her and an errant eye ball rolled past her boot.
It took me a few moments to realise what she was doing before I chuckled with glee. I ran some overlays from the computer webcams and then tried to gauge the interference. Sure enough a cascade of energy was building and had started to affect the performance of the electronic devices in the office.
Amazing tore her gaze away from the still playing porn that the former Rad Hatter leader had been watching. She touched her head and her eyes actually fluttered.
“That’s enough of that” she said aloud for some unknown but extremely convenient reason “Need to shed some of this excess power”
She stomped (okay she didn’t stomp but fuck me she’s not exactly dainty and she was swaying like she’d put the all you can eat grease buffet out of action) out of the office and down the stairs. She shot a flurry of blasts from her hands and seemed to lose some of the flush in her face, to make a hole in the far end of the factory.
A couple of Megaburgh’s overpaid and underused police peered cautiously through the hole.
“Is it safe Commander Amazing” one of them yelled
“It’s always safe” she muttered the shouted back in her detestable nasal whine “All clear guys”
On hearing the all clear the cops flooded into the factory. Most had weird green body armour on and carried shotguns. A few made forward rolls across the floor. Some determinedly peered into corners and started yelling ‘clear’ for no good reason.
“I think we can take it from here” said a random cop, his uniform aped military style and he wore stark white gloves.
“Yeah sure” muttered Commander Amazing “I’ll be going then”
She stomped (I’m calling it a stomp you meat sack, you all stomp to me anyway, shuffling your stinking hairy ape bodies around in the open!) out of the building and leapt into the air. Within moments a sonic boom rocked the waterfront as she accelerated the barely 2 kilometres to the naval base.
Which brings me to the point of this ridiculous episode and which you would have understood 5 pages earlier if your feeble monkey brains could understand binary. It seems that the great, the invincible, the terminally disinterested Commander Amazing reacts to sexual stimulation, perhaps some flaw in her creation by whatever alien menace made her, perhaps some cosmic joke perhaps just the result of giving a repressed masochistic slut bag unlimited power and a clit that needs a jack hammer’s attention to feel anything. Whatever it is it is something I think I can help Globo Dynamics to exploit.
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Last edited by lionbadger 3 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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ultramichelle
- Neophyte
- Posts: 2
- Joined: 5 years ago
Glad to see another chapter.
Love the story.
Love the story.
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lionbadger
- Legendary Member
- Posts: 786
- Joined: 12 years ago
Megaburgh drives me nuts sometimes. Despite disappearing, well, being buried in concrete possibly still alive and put on display as a memorial obelisk, Denise Lundstrom somehow still managed to win the mayoral election. Of course she hasn’t taken up her post so, in a triumph of democracy in action the job automatically went to her deputy who promptly refused the position for some unknowable reason and passed it to someone precisely nobody voted for, Lundstrom’s PA of all people. I have TIM and Petrov’s team working on whether she’s a super, a side kick or just suspiciously healthy.
I could probably live with this farce if not for the letter that arrived by courier 30 minutes after the announcement. It’s a cream heavy flock thing with a dark purple line around it. It’s from the boss. My boss, well my major creditor anyway which is basically the same thing when you get right down to it. I haven’t had the guts to open it yet. It could be a letter bomb, it could be full of razor blades, it could have sub tropical killer bees in it, it could have the trapped souls of everyone who has ever failed him. Him being the Emperor. Shit it could be an invite to have tea, alone! I consider having a minion, Neuro at least, open it for me while I hide under the desk but that will damage my vaugely cultivated air of dignity and control. For the umpteenth time I suck in a few breaths and psych myself up. Shit it might be an order to call him asap! What if I’m late. This time I actually grab the letter opener on the desk. I hold the letter in my left hand and the opener in my right. Sweat beads my brow. I can feel my pulse. The dull blue veins in my hand seem to glow vibrantly and to throb but I know it’s my imagination. I stare at both for a long time. Is this it? Is this where it all bites me square in the arse? Is this how I die. Minutes tick past. I can’t believe this, I’ve beaten actual superheros. I edge the opener forward against protesting muscles. The sweat runs into my eyes, my eyebrows unable to hold back the flood of fear.
“aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh” I yell as I jam the letter opener into the envelope and with one pants wetting yank, slit it open. I realise I have my eyes closed. I open one gingerly and swivel it around like a search light. I open the other. I am if I’m honest I’m a little disappointed. I carefully pry open the envelope. It’s empty. Oh fuck I think, oh fuck what does this mean? My panic meter notches 11. I start to lose it.
“Whatcha mate” says a voice like slurping lava from beside my ear “You Lowendachs?”
I jump back frantically squeezing my sphincter to stop a sudden rush of very liquid shit. Heat wafts off the creature, the black scales of it’s body horribly under lit by a skin of glowing yellow and orange. Eight spider like eyes peer out of a head sunken necklessly into it’s chest and follow my jittering steps back. The squashed pug like jaw yawns open to revel rows of shark teeth as sharp as the antelope horns sprouting from its head.
“Yeah, fought so” says the thing “Got a message from the boss”
“don’t kill me” I manage to squeak
The thing gives me a disgusted look. I manage to recover a little.
“I mean, don’t kill me foul denizen of the pit?” I say with the confidence of a 2 year old
“Oh dats nice, what does you fink dis is, the 1600s? You see a daemon and you fink all I gots to do today is eat some rank ooman?” the thing stated flatly “I’ll have you know I’m a vegan, I ain’t eated a ooman for over ferty years, well cept a couple bites of that one for der saturnalia at me mum’s but honestly I doesn’t even miss it dese days so what is you like a speciesist or summit?”
It takes me a minute to put the near impenetrable accent together in my mind. I wondered if all daemons had such a ridiculous way of speaking.
“Sorry no, you’re my first....” I stopped grasping for the right word
“Demon mate, call a spade a spade” the thing said with something approaching sympathy
“Right, you’re my first demon, I, err, I don’t want to offend but I didn’t think you guys were really a thing, I’m sorry though, for any offence, Globo Dynamics is an equal opportunity employer” I said meekly
“’S okay mate, I know a woke when I sees one” he said “gotta message from the boss”
The import of that hit me suddenly. An actual demon was referring to the Emperor as the Boss. Not just the Boss, but the kind of boss who could order a daemon into an envelope just to courier a supposedly non lethal message.
“Ee says” the fiend cleared its throat “Deer Kaiser you are invited to drinks at the Lord Morr Golf and Country Club, Kalcedon at 1pm on 9th May”
“Wait, what day is it today” I yelp suddenly
“8th mate” says the daemon
“Oh shit I need a flight” I say
“Yeah, maybe next time don’t be such a pussy about opening the letter right?”
“I, oh, you saw that” I murmur
“Demon mate” says the creature pointing to itself with a claw like a sickle blade
“Yes, right” I say reaching for the desk phone
“free flights mate” says the daemon
I hesitate “Oh a private jet or something”
It looks at me confused “Nah mate free flights, you need free flights for free people”
It takes me a minute “Three flights?”
“Dats what I fucking said mate” it growls
“Sorry, got an inner ear thing” I say hurriedly
“Yeah no you don’t soo.....” it says waving a hand vaugely
“Oh? OH!” I say “right something for your trouble”
“Dats well generous of you mate” he says flatly
I dig in my pocket, I can’t remember if I have any cash. I pray frantically that I have something better than a 1. I pull something papery, a 50. I hesitate for moment, a 50 is a 50 after all. My eyes meet the daemon’s there’s no choice here.
“Here you go buddy” I say too quickly
The daemon smirks, actually smirks then vanishes in a puff of sulphurous smoke.
“fuck” I mutter.
An invite. I turn towards the bin and stop, there is something else in the envelope. I pull it out. A voucher for 10% off at the Swan cafe in Kalcedon, best deep-fried breakfast in the union it alleges. Who the hell deep fries a whole breakfast?
****
Kalcedon is definitely not Megaburgh. For a start it’s not even on the continent proper, it’s at the cold end of the western isles, cold, dark and perpetually wet. It’s old, very old, certainly much older than most of the post conquest towns that are still around. I assume that’s because it held off the conquest until the armistice and then was too far away for any of the party faithful to strip it down and remake it as something modern and vaguely useful. People never give fascist dictatorships or in our case I suppose what was really a fascist oligarchy the credit they are due for all the useful stuff. Megaburgh for example might be lousy with heros and in an admittedly stupid location to satisfy the various old regions of the continent, but at least it was built to a plan with big wide streets that can handle rush hour, plenty of parking, careful zoning, big airports. Industrial zones away from housing, plenty of harbour. Kalcedon on the other hand is a mess, tiny streets that wind around and over its ridiculously hilly terrain in zig zags where any sane city would have them straight or driven a tunnel straight through. Ancient dark faced housing blocks packed next to shops next to offices next to industrial units. Madness. Sinister black clad police everywhere. Black, for police, this is insane, literally everywhere else in the union has cheery green or baby blue uniformed police but not miserable Kalcedon. I harrumph in a self satisfied manner to myself and chuckle at the backwardness of the yokels.
Then I see the weirdest thing. A crash, a bus and a car mashed together, a fire engine attending, although I can’t imagine anything burning in this sodden hole. An ambulance picking up someone with a head wound. The sinister stormtrooper police waving batons and moving people back. Not a super in sight. Not a single latex clad waste of skin anywhere. I look at the old-fashioned offices and houses and they seem to take on a new light, as if some deity has parted the perpetual cloud for a moment to make a heavily laboured point. Maybe it is a bit chocolate boxy and surely no sane person would live here without having gills sewn on but maybe a holiday home? A little bolt hole away from the supers?
“What an absolute dump” says Alpha Bitch from my left
“I don’t know, it has some old worldy charm” mutters Neuro from my right
“No supers at least” I say probing the middle ground
“Where’s the fun in that” cackles Alpha Bitch
“That might be why it’s so rich” says Neuro “No supers to constantly clean up after”
“Not as rich as Megaburgh though” I say off automatically
“You’d be surprised” says Neuro “There is a lot of old money here and a lot of money from dead people ended up hidden here during the conquest. Plus the place has always been a hub for secrecy and half the money moving in and out of the union comes through here, even if it ends up being invested in firms in Megaburgh”
“I was in funds and I never knew that” I say sceptically
“Secrecy, they’re suspicious of outsiders and very good at keeping their mouths shut in Kalcedon” he replies
“I heard the schools are good” says Alpha Bitch “Kitty studied here before, well before she was my Kitty, made a lot of weird foreign friends too apparently”
“Why would rich foreigners send their kids here” I muse “I wonder if...”
“We’re almost here sir” calls back the driver
We practically pull a hand brake turn into what looks like an alley. I suddenly panic about being mugged but it turns out to be a long driveway. We pass the housing blocks and then some scruffy playing fields that give way to dripping trees. An elaborate wooden sign for the Lord Morr Golf and Country club suddenly looms out of the dark tree line. We begin to pass manicured lawns and carefully maintained clumps of trees as the tarmac turns to crunching gravel. A daunting gatehouse briefly halts the drumming patter of the rain on our car and I barely suppress a shiver as we pass under it to reach a dark medieval courtyard. An actual liveried footman steps forward and raps smartly on the driver’s window. They exchange words in the impenetrable dialect of Kalcedon and the driver presents a card. The footman looks at it then chops his hand forward before snapping it right. He tips his hat as our car moves forward along the side of the main building before turning right into a group of spaces marked ‘reserved’. The driver steps out, snaps open a large umbrella then walks around the car and opens the door for Alpha Bitch. I shuffle across the seats with as much dignity as one can muster in such a situation and spill out after her.
Another liveried footman opens the golf club door for us and we are ushered in through the building, noting suits of armour and tapestries. Huge paintings of various lords killing things dominate the dark wood panelled walls, noticeably the last one is angelic soldiers from Kalcedon bayonetting the fleeing, unwashed hordes of the pre-Union government. Subtle. I thought all that stuff was burned but maybe Kalcedon really is too wet for things to burn. We are deposited into a large day room with a curved glass wall overlooking the grounds. It might be nice if it were sunny. I doubt though that it ever is. The room could easily provide dinner to 200 people. There is a single table set up by the window. We are directed towards it and assured that our host will join us shortly.
Almost as soon as we sit down a waiter appears.
“Wid ye lik' a dram?” he says flipping out a notebook and looking at us
We stare back. I glance at Neuro. His brow is furrowed. I sigh, the daemon was bad enough but two impenetrable accents in one diary entry is going to make writing this later a massive pain in the arse.
“What?” says Alpha Bitch
“Wid ye lik' a dram?” he repeats then turns to shout over his shoulder “Dinnae thae fowk ken Kalcey?”
A second waiter leans around the door and yells back “A'm feart thae fowk ur fae th' freish toun”
Our waiter turns back to us, pats down his apron and says “My apologies, I was not informed that you people are from Megaburgh”
“What language was that” asks Neuro interrupting him
“Common tongue” he replies then adds “tuned to the local dialect of course”
“I thought I knew how Kalcedon people spoke” says Neuro
“We get that a lot sir” replies the waiter “Many people believe they know all about Kalcedon”
“Well I didn’t mean” stutters Neuro
Meanwhile I’m torn. I’ve never run into such an unjustifiably confident and aggressive waiter but simultaneously I’ve never seen Neuro stumped.
“Now, as I said, can I get you an aperitive” He glances around us and settles his eyes on me “before your host joins you”
I gulp. I can’t help it. And it pisses me off that this jumped up bootblack has made me do it.
“A hellboy please” I say dredging up my most obscure cocktail from the hedge fund days.
“Excellent choice sir, tree or flower honey? Pasteurised or non-pasteurised?” he replies without even looking up from the pad
I know when I’m beat “barman’s discretion” I say
“you sir” he says looking at Neuro
“Pomegranate Martini” says Neuro.
“And for the lady” he says looking to Alpha Bitch
“You know in Megaburgh we say ladies first” she drawls at him
“I’m sure they say a lot of things about you in Megaburgh madam” he replies “But here we consider it the height of bad manners to put a lady on the spot before her peers”
She looks at him “I’ll break you” she whispers
His eyes move up from the pad and rest on her for a few seconds. The air between them takes on a charge and I begin to feel uncomfortable. “Do you take that with whisky or rum?”
Alpha Bitch continues to glare “rum” she answers “dark rum, the darkest you’ve got”
“Excellent choice madam” he says flipping his notebook closed “You have surprisingly good taste for” he barely suppressed a sneer “a Megaburgh person”
There is a moment of electric tension between them that squeezes my insides. Then the waiter turns and heads to the door.
“Veronica you cannot start a fight with these people” I whisper
“It’s Alpha Bitch Kaiser” she replies “And I’m not about to let some minor toady disrespect you”
“I call dibs” Neuro says whistfully
“I already broke your nose poindexter” she replies twirling a lock of her hair. The grey light turns the platinum blonde dye job a silvery white as she watches the retreating waiter “I’d do terrible things to that”
“Yes, so you are indebted to me” he replies leaning back from the table “scrappy doo”
“What did you just...” she shrieks
“ahem” a voice cuts in behind us.
We swivel. A sinking feeling hits me and I know. I try to stand up, I want to stretch out my hand but a wave of intimidation washes over me. It’s the first time I’ve seen him. The hair is close cropped light brown running to grey at the temples. His face is surprisingly boyish but the lines around the eyes betray that he’s older than he looks. I mistake the exquisitely tailored 3 piece suit for black but realise it’s actually midnight blue. The tie likewise looks black until the light catches a purple shimmer. A simple watch hangs on his left wrist and a huge ring like a set of gears is fit on his left hand ring finger. Married? Really? A small pair of wire rim glasses sit on his nose over which strangely predatory, yellow eyes pierce me. My brain screams that he’s tall, like an adult towering over a child, I can feel myself drowning in a titanic shadow cast by him but my eyes insist he’s merely of average height. Power and malice is practically boiling off him and I swear there’s some kind of icy cold heat shimmer around him. I try to force myself to calm but my flight reflex keeps screaming at me to sprint, dig a hole and hide. My eyes retort that he’s really quite average and nondescript. I think that might actually be the most terrifying thing about him.
“Kaseeer Leewindiks” I manage to squeeze out between teeth clenched hard to stop them chittering.
He looks from my face to my weakly proffered hand. I think he’s going to ignore it but he takes it and shakes. No crushing power play no yanking me forward. Just a completely mundane handshake.
“Nice to meet you Kaiser” he says quietly. The Kalcedon accent is there but something else too, it’s softer, like he’s spent a lot of time making sure people understand him.
“You too, err” I fumble
“Sir” he says before glancing to Neuro
“Neuro sir” he says jumping from his chair and saluting, actually saluting. Sweat beads his brow.
The Emperor nods and turns to Alpha Bitch. I cringe. This where it could all go wrong.
“Veronica sir” she says standing up and shaking his hand.
I double take. She’s blushing. She’s actually blushing and blushing hard at that. My eyes stray down, I can’t help it, I need to know, yes, nipples threatening to rivet punch their way free.
“Really?” he says “I had heard you prefer to go by Alpha Bitch”
“Gnnnar” Alpha Bitch whimpers “I, well.....”
“Shall we sit” he says softly gesturing to the table.
The waiter reappears and distributes our drinks.
“Yer usuool sur” he says nodding to the Emperor and placing a pot of tea a jug of milk and a simple white cup in front of him.
“Ta” he replies reaching forward and stirring the pot.
I sip my drink nervously.
“First time in Kalcedon?” he asks quietly
“Yes” says Alpha Bitch
“Enjoying it?” he asks
Alpha Bitch glances at me and Neuro
“Oh yes, it’s very different to Megaburgh, more organic, less stuffy” she lies
He smiles “Some people find the lack of supers reduces the fun we have on offer” he says offhandedly
Alpha Bitch baulks
“You have created a dilemma Kaiser” he says as he gently pours tea into the cup.
“I’m not sure I understand sir” I mumble as he stirs gently before tapping the spoon against the cup.
“None of the” he pauses and cocks an eyebrow “shall we call them my competitors” he says softly
“What do you call them?” asks Neuro
His stare settles on Neuro “I call them Belial, Eco Terror, the Manflayer and Mrs Thompson”
“Competitors works for me” said Neuro quickly
“I’m glad we have cleared that up” he replies “None of them have managed to establish an operation in Megaburgh. We’ve all tried for years but we’ve been foiled by the meta human community there who like crime to be abundant but distinctly unsophisticated. Then, along you come, like a good Byzantium subsidiary should and eliminate 3 supers, fire up a booming drug business and keep a profitable front all in the space of a year. An, and don’t take this the wrong way, amateur in this business has outplayed the biggest and best while barely breaking a sweat”
He lifts a tiny shortbread biscuit from his saucer and dips it into his cup.
“It has ruffled some feathers” he said chomping through crumbs
“I, I never meant” I stammer. A small part of my brain clicks into overdrive. I was going to die here. I’d pissed off some serious people and I was going to die. I wondered idly how it would be done. Garrotte? Poison? Double tap to the head? Throat slit? They liked knives in Kalcedon.
“I should clarify” he smiles and I feel my already overloading sense of terror kick up a gear “For me, this is good and to be fair it is me who has taken perverse glee in ruffling the feathers. Forgive me, we meet for cards at Mrs Thompson’s care home every second Thursday. I cannot help but brag about what we have achieved”
It takes me a minute for my brain to catch up. I gingerly feel my neck. They say you don’t feel the cut if the blade is sharp enough. I file “what we have achieved” for future consideration.
“You’re pleased?” says Alpha Bitch
“Let’s not go over board” says the Emperor “But yes, please keep up the good work. I think we can also extend your credit a little, should you need it”
A collective sigh of relief leaves us.
“But” he says “You should expect my competitors to start trying to emulate your success”
“I see” I say. I didn’t at all.
He sighs “How is TIM doing?”
“TIM?” I ask surprised “Well, err, he seems to be fairly happy and between him, Neuro here and Dr Petrov we have created a decent database of the secret identities of the Super community in Megaburgh”
“Good, good” said the Emperor nodding slightly “Proteus 4 asked me to pass on warm regards”
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“Proteus is your super computer I assume” asks Neuro
“Correct and a very useful employee” says the Emperor
He pours a second tea and stirs it gently
“Nights are getting lighter” I say
He looks at me over his glasses
“Sorry, sorry, I’m not good at small talk” I say
“So what do you have planned next?” he asks
“Well, as I’m sure you know we have opened a second warehouse in Megaburgh” I say
“Indeed and since the money flows back to Byzantium we will suggest that our suppliers use Globo Dynamics for their Megaburgh needs” he says nodding
“Perhaps we should not make the link between Byzantium and Globo Dynamics too obvious” says Neuro cautiously
The Emperor turns his head and stares at Neuro. The clock above the door ticks ominously. It feels like the world is holding its breath.
“A good point” he says “You need some deniability when the supers come snooping for your client list. We will steer legitimate trade to you though and I imagine there are some illicit things we will need you to handle from time to time”
“I think the gangs need to be better organised” says Alpha Bitch “My Beta Dogs are great but we could use a couple more spread across the city to really gets things under control”
“A good observation” says the Emperor “It would also enable you to take a larger cut of petty crime”
This plan is news to me but I suppose it makes sense.
“Apart from that I think we need to just knuckle down and grow” I say
He gives a small smile
“And to get rid of more supers” I say
“Have you had any dealings with the netherworld?” he asks
“I think Carmine Epitome was half fire demon” I say
“Fire elemental maybe” he scoffs “I’ll set up a meeting with something”
“err, okay” I say, I’m not sure we’re ready to be meddling with demonic hell spawns but it’s not like I can say no.
He stands up. Neuro and I start to follow but he waves us back.
“Please finish your drinks” he says “I will settle the bill”
I glance at Neuro, there is no way we’re getting out of here unless we settle that bill. I notice the arsehole waiter in the background. Plus tip.
“Veronica” he says glancing at Alpha Bitch “Would you like to fuck?”
It takes a moment for my brain to catch up with my ears. I glance at Alpha Bitch. A light sweat coats her forehead and neck but she’s fighting to try to hide the effect.
She stands up, I’m not sure if I imagine her to be a little shakier. “Call me Alpha Bitch” she says extending a hand over Neuro’s head. The Emperor takes it with a grin and as he moves around the table tucks it under his arm to guide Alpha Bitch towards the doors.
Neuro and I sit for a minute watching our drinks then I look up “Did he just replace me as the Alpha Dog?” I ask
“No, no” says Neuro, though I’m not sure if I detect a hint of frustration in his voice “You’re still the Alpha Dog” he pauses for a second to let a banshee like wail pass “It’s just that we’ve run into an Omega Dog”
I could probably live with this farce if not for the letter that arrived by courier 30 minutes after the announcement. It’s a cream heavy flock thing with a dark purple line around it. It’s from the boss. My boss, well my major creditor anyway which is basically the same thing when you get right down to it. I haven’t had the guts to open it yet. It could be a letter bomb, it could be full of razor blades, it could have sub tropical killer bees in it, it could have the trapped souls of everyone who has ever failed him. Him being the Emperor. Shit it could be an invite to have tea, alone! I consider having a minion, Neuro at least, open it for me while I hide under the desk but that will damage my vaugely cultivated air of dignity and control. For the umpteenth time I suck in a few breaths and psych myself up. Shit it might be an order to call him asap! What if I’m late. This time I actually grab the letter opener on the desk. I hold the letter in my left hand and the opener in my right. Sweat beads my brow. I can feel my pulse. The dull blue veins in my hand seem to glow vibrantly and to throb but I know it’s my imagination. I stare at both for a long time. Is this it? Is this where it all bites me square in the arse? Is this how I die. Minutes tick past. I can’t believe this, I’ve beaten actual superheros. I edge the opener forward against protesting muscles. The sweat runs into my eyes, my eyebrows unable to hold back the flood of fear.
“aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh” I yell as I jam the letter opener into the envelope and with one pants wetting yank, slit it open. I realise I have my eyes closed. I open one gingerly and swivel it around like a search light. I open the other. I am if I’m honest I’m a little disappointed. I carefully pry open the envelope. It’s empty. Oh fuck I think, oh fuck what does this mean? My panic meter notches 11. I start to lose it.
“Whatcha mate” says a voice like slurping lava from beside my ear “You Lowendachs?”
I jump back frantically squeezing my sphincter to stop a sudden rush of very liquid shit. Heat wafts off the creature, the black scales of it’s body horribly under lit by a skin of glowing yellow and orange. Eight spider like eyes peer out of a head sunken necklessly into it’s chest and follow my jittering steps back. The squashed pug like jaw yawns open to revel rows of shark teeth as sharp as the antelope horns sprouting from its head.
“Yeah, fought so” says the thing “Got a message from the boss”
“don’t kill me” I manage to squeak
The thing gives me a disgusted look. I manage to recover a little.
“I mean, don’t kill me foul denizen of the pit?” I say with the confidence of a 2 year old
“Oh dats nice, what does you fink dis is, the 1600s? You see a daemon and you fink all I gots to do today is eat some rank ooman?” the thing stated flatly “I’ll have you know I’m a vegan, I ain’t eated a ooman for over ferty years, well cept a couple bites of that one for der saturnalia at me mum’s but honestly I doesn’t even miss it dese days so what is you like a speciesist or summit?”
It takes me a minute to put the near impenetrable accent together in my mind. I wondered if all daemons had such a ridiculous way of speaking.
“Sorry no, you’re my first....” I stopped grasping for the right word
“Demon mate, call a spade a spade” the thing said with something approaching sympathy
“Right, you’re my first demon, I, err, I don’t want to offend but I didn’t think you guys were really a thing, I’m sorry though, for any offence, Globo Dynamics is an equal opportunity employer” I said meekly
“’S okay mate, I know a woke when I sees one” he said “gotta message from the boss”
The import of that hit me suddenly. An actual demon was referring to the Emperor as the Boss. Not just the Boss, but the kind of boss who could order a daemon into an envelope just to courier a supposedly non lethal message.
“Ee says” the fiend cleared its throat “Deer Kaiser you are invited to drinks at the Lord Morr Golf and Country Club, Kalcedon at 1pm on 9th May”
“Wait, what day is it today” I yelp suddenly
“8th mate” says the daemon
“Oh shit I need a flight” I say
“Yeah, maybe next time don’t be such a pussy about opening the letter right?”
“I, oh, you saw that” I murmur
“Demon mate” says the creature pointing to itself with a claw like a sickle blade
“Yes, right” I say reaching for the desk phone
“free flights mate” says the daemon
I hesitate “Oh a private jet or something”
It looks at me confused “Nah mate free flights, you need free flights for free people”
It takes me a minute “Three flights?”
“Dats what I fucking said mate” it growls
“Sorry, got an inner ear thing” I say hurriedly
“Yeah no you don’t soo.....” it says waving a hand vaugely
“Oh? OH!” I say “right something for your trouble”
“Dats well generous of you mate” he says flatly
I dig in my pocket, I can’t remember if I have any cash. I pray frantically that I have something better than a 1. I pull something papery, a 50. I hesitate for moment, a 50 is a 50 after all. My eyes meet the daemon’s there’s no choice here.
“Here you go buddy” I say too quickly
The daemon smirks, actually smirks then vanishes in a puff of sulphurous smoke.
“fuck” I mutter.
An invite. I turn towards the bin and stop, there is something else in the envelope. I pull it out. A voucher for 10% off at the Swan cafe in Kalcedon, best deep-fried breakfast in the union it alleges. Who the hell deep fries a whole breakfast?
****
Kalcedon is definitely not Megaburgh. For a start it’s not even on the continent proper, it’s at the cold end of the western isles, cold, dark and perpetually wet. It’s old, very old, certainly much older than most of the post conquest towns that are still around. I assume that’s because it held off the conquest until the armistice and then was too far away for any of the party faithful to strip it down and remake it as something modern and vaguely useful. People never give fascist dictatorships or in our case I suppose what was really a fascist oligarchy the credit they are due for all the useful stuff. Megaburgh for example might be lousy with heros and in an admittedly stupid location to satisfy the various old regions of the continent, but at least it was built to a plan with big wide streets that can handle rush hour, plenty of parking, careful zoning, big airports. Industrial zones away from housing, plenty of harbour. Kalcedon on the other hand is a mess, tiny streets that wind around and over its ridiculously hilly terrain in zig zags where any sane city would have them straight or driven a tunnel straight through. Ancient dark faced housing blocks packed next to shops next to offices next to industrial units. Madness. Sinister black clad police everywhere. Black, for police, this is insane, literally everywhere else in the union has cheery green or baby blue uniformed police but not miserable Kalcedon. I harrumph in a self satisfied manner to myself and chuckle at the backwardness of the yokels.
Then I see the weirdest thing. A crash, a bus and a car mashed together, a fire engine attending, although I can’t imagine anything burning in this sodden hole. An ambulance picking up someone with a head wound. The sinister stormtrooper police waving batons and moving people back. Not a super in sight. Not a single latex clad waste of skin anywhere. I look at the old-fashioned offices and houses and they seem to take on a new light, as if some deity has parted the perpetual cloud for a moment to make a heavily laboured point. Maybe it is a bit chocolate boxy and surely no sane person would live here without having gills sewn on but maybe a holiday home? A little bolt hole away from the supers?
“What an absolute dump” says Alpha Bitch from my left
“I don’t know, it has some old worldy charm” mutters Neuro from my right
“No supers at least” I say probing the middle ground
“Where’s the fun in that” cackles Alpha Bitch
“That might be why it’s so rich” says Neuro “No supers to constantly clean up after”
“Not as rich as Megaburgh though” I say off automatically
“You’d be surprised” says Neuro “There is a lot of old money here and a lot of money from dead people ended up hidden here during the conquest. Plus the place has always been a hub for secrecy and half the money moving in and out of the union comes through here, even if it ends up being invested in firms in Megaburgh”
“I was in funds and I never knew that” I say sceptically
“Secrecy, they’re suspicious of outsiders and very good at keeping their mouths shut in Kalcedon” he replies
“I heard the schools are good” says Alpha Bitch “Kitty studied here before, well before she was my Kitty, made a lot of weird foreign friends too apparently”
“Why would rich foreigners send their kids here” I muse “I wonder if...”
“We’re almost here sir” calls back the driver
We practically pull a hand brake turn into what looks like an alley. I suddenly panic about being mugged but it turns out to be a long driveway. We pass the housing blocks and then some scruffy playing fields that give way to dripping trees. An elaborate wooden sign for the Lord Morr Golf and Country club suddenly looms out of the dark tree line. We begin to pass manicured lawns and carefully maintained clumps of trees as the tarmac turns to crunching gravel. A daunting gatehouse briefly halts the drumming patter of the rain on our car and I barely suppress a shiver as we pass under it to reach a dark medieval courtyard. An actual liveried footman steps forward and raps smartly on the driver’s window. They exchange words in the impenetrable dialect of Kalcedon and the driver presents a card. The footman looks at it then chops his hand forward before snapping it right. He tips his hat as our car moves forward along the side of the main building before turning right into a group of spaces marked ‘reserved’. The driver steps out, snaps open a large umbrella then walks around the car and opens the door for Alpha Bitch. I shuffle across the seats with as much dignity as one can muster in such a situation and spill out after her.
Another liveried footman opens the golf club door for us and we are ushered in through the building, noting suits of armour and tapestries. Huge paintings of various lords killing things dominate the dark wood panelled walls, noticeably the last one is angelic soldiers from Kalcedon bayonetting the fleeing, unwashed hordes of the pre-Union government. Subtle. I thought all that stuff was burned but maybe Kalcedon really is too wet for things to burn. We are deposited into a large day room with a curved glass wall overlooking the grounds. It might be nice if it were sunny. I doubt though that it ever is. The room could easily provide dinner to 200 people. There is a single table set up by the window. We are directed towards it and assured that our host will join us shortly.
Almost as soon as we sit down a waiter appears.
“Wid ye lik' a dram?” he says flipping out a notebook and looking at us
We stare back. I glance at Neuro. His brow is furrowed. I sigh, the daemon was bad enough but two impenetrable accents in one diary entry is going to make writing this later a massive pain in the arse.
“What?” says Alpha Bitch
“Wid ye lik' a dram?” he repeats then turns to shout over his shoulder “Dinnae thae fowk ken Kalcey?”
A second waiter leans around the door and yells back “A'm feart thae fowk ur fae th' freish toun”
Our waiter turns back to us, pats down his apron and says “My apologies, I was not informed that you people are from Megaburgh”
“What language was that” asks Neuro interrupting him
“Common tongue” he replies then adds “tuned to the local dialect of course”
“I thought I knew how Kalcedon people spoke” says Neuro
“We get that a lot sir” replies the waiter “Many people believe they know all about Kalcedon”
“Well I didn’t mean” stutters Neuro
Meanwhile I’m torn. I’ve never run into such an unjustifiably confident and aggressive waiter but simultaneously I’ve never seen Neuro stumped.
“Now, as I said, can I get you an aperitive” He glances around us and settles his eyes on me “before your host joins you”
I gulp. I can’t help it. And it pisses me off that this jumped up bootblack has made me do it.
“A hellboy please” I say dredging up my most obscure cocktail from the hedge fund days.
“Excellent choice sir, tree or flower honey? Pasteurised or non-pasteurised?” he replies without even looking up from the pad
I know when I’m beat “barman’s discretion” I say
“you sir” he says looking at Neuro
“Pomegranate Martini” says Neuro.
“And for the lady” he says looking to Alpha Bitch
“You know in Megaburgh we say ladies first” she drawls at him
“I’m sure they say a lot of things about you in Megaburgh madam” he replies “But here we consider it the height of bad manners to put a lady on the spot before her peers”
She looks at him “I’ll break you” she whispers
His eyes move up from the pad and rest on her for a few seconds. The air between them takes on a charge and I begin to feel uncomfortable. “Do you take that with whisky or rum?”
Alpha Bitch continues to glare “rum” she answers “dark rum, the darkest you’ve got”
“Excellent choice madam” he says flipping his notebook closed “You have surprisingly good taste for” he barely suppressed a sneer “a Megaburgh person”
There is a moment of electric tension between them that squeezes my insides. Then the waiter turns and heads to the door.
“Veronica you cannot start a fight with these people” I whisper
“It’s Alpha Bitch Kaiser” she replies “And I’m not about to let some minor toady disrespect you”
“I call dibs” Neuro says whistfully
“I already broke your nose poindexter” she replies twirling a lock of her hair. The grey light turns the platinum blonde dye job a silvery white as she watches the retreating waiter “I’d do terrible things to that”
“Yes, so you are indebted to me” he replies leaning back from the table “scrappy doo”
“What did you just...” she shrieks
“ahem” a voice cuts in behind us.
We swivel. A sinking feeling hits me and I know. I try to stand up, I want to stretch out my hand but a wave of intimidation washes over me. It’s the first time I’ve seen him. The hair is close cropped light brown running to grey at the temples. His face is surprisingly boyish but the lines around the eyes betray that he’s older than he looks. I mistake the exquisitely tailored 3 piece suit for black but realise it’s actually midnight blue. The tie likewise looks black until the light catches a purple shimmer. A simple watch hangs on his left wrist and a huge ring like a set of gears is fit on his left hand ring finger. Married? Really? A small pair of wire rim glasses sit on his nose over which strangely predatory, yellow eyes pierce me. My brain screams that he’s tall, like an adult towering over a child, I can feel myself drowning in a titanic shadow cast by him but my eyes insist he’s merely of average height. Power and malice is practically boiling off him and I swear there’s some kind of icy cold heat shimmer around him. I try to force myself to calm but my flight reflex keeps screaming at me to sprint, dig a hole and hide. My eyes retort that he’s really quite average and nondescript. I think that might actually be the most terrifying thing about him.
“Kaseeer Leewindiks” I manage to squeeze out between teeth clenched hard to stop them chittering.
He looks from my face to my weakly proffered hand. I think he’s going to ignore it but he takes it and shakes. No crushing power play no yanking me forward. Just a completely mundane handshake.
“Nice to meet you Kaiser” he says quietly. The Kalcedon accent is there but something else too, it’s softer, like he’s spent a lot of time making sure people understand him.
“You too, err” I fumble
“Sir” he says before glancing to Neuro
“Neuro sir” he says jumping from his chair and saluting, actually saluting. Sweat beads his brow.
The Emperor nods and turns to Alpha Bitch. I cringe. This where it could all go wrong.
“Veronica sir” she says standing up and shaking his hand.
I double take. She’s blushing. She’s actually blushing and blushing hard at that. My eyes stray down, I can’t help it, I need to know, yes, nipples threatening to rivet punch their way free.
“Really?” he says “I had heard you prefer to go by Alpha Bitch”
“Gnnnar” Alpha Bitch whimpers “I, well.....”
“Shall we sit” he says softly gesturing to the table.
The waiter reappears and distributes our drinks.
“Yer usuool sur” he says nodding to the Emperor and placing a pot of tea a jug of milk and a simple white cup in front of him.
“Ta” he replies reaching forward and stirring the pot.
I sip my drink nervously.
“First time in Kalcedon?” he asks quietly
“Yes” says Alpha Bitch
“Enjoying it?” he asks
Alpha Bitch glances at me and Neuro
“Oh yes, it’s very different to Megaburgh, more organic, less stuffy” she lies
He smiles “Some people find the lack of supers reduces the fun we have on offer” he says offhandedly
Alpha Bitch baulks
“You have created a dilemma Kaiser” he says as he gently pours tea into the cup.
“I’m not sure I understand sir” I mumble as he stirs gently before tapping the spoon against the cup.
“None of the” he pauses and cocks an eyebrow “shall we call them my competitors” he says softly
“What do you call them?” asks Neuro
His stare settles on Neuro “I call them Belial, Eco Terror, the Manflayer and Mrs Thompson”
“Competitors works for me” said Neuro quickly
“I’m glad we have cleared that up” he replies “None of them have managed to establish an operation in Megaburgh. We’ve all tried for years but we’ve been foiled by the meta human community there who like crime to be abundant but distinctly unsophisticated. Then, along you come, like a good Byzantium subsidiary should and eliminate 3 supers, fire up a booming drug business and keep a profitable front all in the space of a year. An, and don’t take this the wrong way, amateur in this business has outplayed the biggest and best while barely breaking a sweat”
He lifts a tiny shortbread biscuit from his saucer and dips it into his cup.
“It has ruffled some feathers” he said chomping through crumbs
“I, I never meant” I stammer. A small part of my brain clicks into overdrive. I was going to die here. I’d pissed off some serious people and I was going to die. I wondered idly how it would be done. Garrotte? Poison? Double tap to the head? Throat slit? They liked knives in Kalcedon.
“I should clarify” he smiles and I feel my already overloading sense of terror kick up a gear “For me, this is good and to be fair it is me who has taken perverse glee in ruffling the feathers. Forgive me, we meet for cards at Mrs Thompson’s care home every second Thursday. I cannot help but brag about what we have achieved”
It takes me a minute for my brain to catch up. I gingerly feel my neck. They say you don’t feel the cut if the blade is sharp enough. I file “what we have achieved” for future consideration.
“You’re pleased?” says Alpha Bitch
“Let’s not go over board” says the Emperor “But yes, please keep up the good work. I think we can also extend your credit a little, should you need it”
A collective sigh of relief leaves us.
“But” he says “You should expect my competitors to start trying to emulate your success”
“I see” I say. I didn’t at all.
He sighs “How is TIM doing?”
“TIM?” I ask surprised “Well, err, he seems to be fairly happy and between him, Neuro here and Dr Petrov we have created a decent database of the secret identities of the Super community in Megaburgh”
“Good, good” said the Emperor nodding slightly “Proteus 4 asked me to pass on warm regards”
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“Proteus is your super computer I assume” asks Neuro
“Correct and a very useful employee” says the Emperor
He pours a second tea and stirs it gently
“Nights are getting lighter” I say
He looks at me over his glasses
“Sorry, sorry, I’m not good at small talk” I say
“So what do you have planned next?” he asks
“Well, as I’m sure you know we have opened a second warehouse in Megaburgh” I say
“Indeed and since the money flows back to Byzantium we will suggest that our suppliers use Globo Dynamics for their Megaburgh needs” he says nodding
“Perhaps we should not make the link between Byzantium and Globo Dynamics too obvious” says Neuro cautiously
The Emperor turns his head and stares at Neuro. The clock above the door ticks ominously. It feels like the world is holding its breath.
“A good point” he says “You need some deniability when the supers come snooping for your client list. We will steer legitimate trade to you though and I imagine there are some illicit things we will need you to handle from time to time”
“I think the gangs need to be better organised” says Alpha Bitch “My Beta Dogs are great but we could use a couple more spread across the city to really gets things under control”
“A good observation” says the Emperor “It would also enable you to take a larger cut of petty crime”
This plan is news to me but I suppose it makes sense.
“Apart from that I think we need to just knuckle down and grow” I say
He gives a small smile
“And to get rid of more supers” I say
“Have you had any dealings with the netherworld?” he asks
“I think Carmine Epitome was half fire demon” I say
“Fire elemental maybe” he scoffs “I’ll set up a meeting with something”
“err, okay” I say, I’m not sure we’re ready to be meddling with demonic hell spawns but it’s not like I can say no.
He stands up. Neuro and I start to follow but he waves us back.
“Please finish your drinks” he says “I will settle the bill”
I glance at Neuro, there is no way we’re getting out of here unless we settle that bill. I notice the arsehole waiter in the background. Plus tip.
“Veronica” he says glancing at Alpha Bitch “Would you like to fuck?”
It takes a moment for my brain to catch up with my ears. I glance at Alpha Bitch. A light sweat coats her forehead and neck but she’s fighting to try to hide the effect.
She stands up, I’m not sure if I imagine her to be a little shakier. “Call me Alpha Bitch” she says extending a hand over Neuro’s head. The Emperor takes it with a grin and as he moves around the table tucks it under his arm to guide Alpha Bitch towards the doors.
Neuro and I sit for a minute watching our drinks then I look up “Did he just replace me as the Alpha Dog?” I ask
“No, no” says Neuro, though I’m not sure if I detect a hint of frustration in his voice “You’re still the Alpha Dog” he pauses for a second to let a banshee like wail pass “It’s just that we’ve run into an Omega Dog”