Rocky HEROES Show
Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Richard O'Brien's and Tim Kring's toys. All plot and lyrics by ROB, while characters replaced in the story are Kring's.
A/N - Your favorite Heroes transplanted to the quaint little town of Denton, OH. Yay Denton! The Home of Happiness!
Wait, no...not Denton...
Chapter 1 - Unexpected
Church bells rang out as the wedding party erupts from the small church and the last notes of Mendelssohn's wedding march resound from the church organ inside.
The young married couple, Nathan and Niki, appear followed by a crowd of friends and well-wishers throwing confetti and shouting excitedly. The Minister shakes Nathan by the hand and is slipped a $20 bill.
As this happens, the photographers take pictures of the various attendees. They exchange knowing looks, sharing some secret joke they share, both unknown to the revelers.
Peter, a young slightly awkward, clean-cut American med student in his mid-twenties, comes over to congratulate Nathan and shake hands. "I guess we did it?" the groom beamed, stoically.
"Well, I don't think there's any doubt about that," Peter agreed. "You and Niki have been almost inseparable ever since you sat in on Dr. Park's refresher courses."
"To tell you the truth, Pete, she was the only reason I came in the first place," he chuckled, eyeing his new bride, a mix of emotions.
Peter gives him a wounded look. "Yeah, it's a shame his new job took him away from Odessa, huh?" Pete mused as a scream distracted the pair.
Niki has just thrown her bouquet, whereupon Peter's date, Elle, screeched, "I got it! I got it!"
"Hey, big fella," Nathan teases, punching his brother in the arm. "Looks like it could be your turn next!"
"Who knows," Peter chuckled. He seemed to ponder the implications of this action for a moment as his brother gave him a congratulatory hug. Peter realized these hugs would now be too far and infrequent now that his brother had married. He hugged Nathan back tightly for a long moment.
Nathan clapped him on the back, making Peter release his hold. He took the opportunity to step away, motioning to his new bride it was time to leave. She bid her farewells as both hopped into his convertible and drove off. He didn't seem too annoyed that someone has someone had defaced his prize convertible with shaving cream: "Wait til tonight. He got his, now she'll get hers!"
Now that the guests of honor had departed, the well-wishers soon dispersed. Elle fawned over her new bouquet, despite having helped Niki arrange it. Visions of her own nuptials dance through her head as she overhears one passing matron admit, "I always cry at weddings!"
Peter stood to the side, waiting for her. Brushing his forelock out of his face, he noticed the minister and the family waiting on them to leave. He gave them a friendly smile, but experienced a moment of déjà vu, as the couple paused to confer for a moment. He couldn't shake the feeling he'd seen the same setting before. The minister was olive skinned, almost caramel, with handsome dark features, his hair slicked back, but a few curls worked their way free. Peter assumed he was pure Italian. Despite the name, their own lineage was mixed enough the lighter skinned brothers Petrelli could pass for having almost any European forebears. Their mother's pale complexion was to thank for that.
The waiting caretakers wore their hair in a similar style to the minister. His light brown hair was brushed straight back, while she and her daughter had severe ponytails with their respective ebon black and light blonde locks. He had a bemused look on his classically spectacled face, watching the crowd, while her pale face was more stern and disproving of the frivolity. Their daughter had a cute, pixie-ish look, being slightly younger than Elle. She looked as if she was merely waiting for her chance to run away from home, if the braces on her legs didn't limit her. She followed the minister inside, as quickly as she could manage under her mother's reproachful glare.
Elle finally seemed to notice her date and approached him. "Oh Peter, wasn't it wonderful?" she gushed. "Didn't Niki look radiant? Just an hour ago, she was plain old Niki Sanders, now she's Mrs. Nathan Petrelli!"
"Er, yeah, Elle," he fumbled. "Nathan's a lucky guy." Peter, being a med student, recognized the signs and knew the truth of why his new sister-in-law looked so 'radiant', but he promised his brother his silence so they could tell everyone when they thought the time was right.
"Yes," she agreed, as they begin to walk away from the church toward the neighboring lot containing the town cemetery.
"Everyone knows she's a wonderful cook," he remarked.
"Mm," Elle replies, not wanting to ruin his image of his new sister-in-law. She knows it wasn't her cooking that got Niki a ring on her finger, but she promised her silence to the bride, as well.
"And Nathan will be in line for a promotion in a year or so," he informs her, making small talk as he musters up the courage to say what he has decided.
"Of course," she agreed, thinking his brother the lawyer will soon be in politics, and Elle could some day wind up as a wife of a Senator, or who knows, even the First Lady herself! Peter, himself, was studying medicine, and could even be a famous doctor one day, she imagined.
He brushed that damn lock of hair out of his face again. She tried to talk him into cutting it for the wedding, but he refused.
"Hey Elle?
"Yes, Peter?"
"I've got something to say," he bashfully admitted.
"Well?" she prodded him on.
"I really loved," he stammered, "the way you beat the other girls to the bride's bouquet."
"Oh, Pete," she pretends to blush as if it ain't no thang.
"The river was deep, but I saw it," he began reciting.
She gave him a stunned look. What is he up to? She wondered.
"The future is ours, so let's plan it," he continued.
Her thoughts reverted back to how their lives could turn out if she and Niki played their cards right.
"So please, don't tell me to can it," he pressed on. "I've one thing to say and that's- Oh hell, Elle! I love you!"
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Was this her chance? She reached out to him, but he suddenly started walking backwards, towards the small church.
"The road was long, but I ran it," he starting chanting his ditty again. "There's a fire in my heart and you fan it. Oh Elle, If there's one fool for you than I am it." He had stepped up to the church doors and pulled out a piece of chalk.
She didn't even ask.
"There's one thing to say, and that's- Oh hell, Elle! I love you!" he exclaimed as he drew a heart on the church doors. She went up to yell at him, but he met her on the stairs and pulled something else from his pocket: a small felt box. He opened it and the light reflecting off the small jewel caught her eye.
"Here's the ring to prove that I'm no joker," he continued.
To be honest, it was annoying her, but kinda catchy at this point.
"There's just one way our love can grow," he started, but she grabbed for the ring, knocking the box to the ground, but she recovered it before he could and had it on her finger in record time.
Whatever he had planned to croon next, it was forgotten as she jumped up, admiring the rock on her finger. "Oh Pete!" she cried in the excitement of the moment. "It's nicer than Niki Sanders had," she exclaimed, adding mentally, that slag! "Oh Pete, now we're engaged and I'm so glad! Just wait until I show dad!"
The caretaker's daughter opened the door to see what the ruckus was and she rushed inside, ignoring the fact the young girl's parents were reorganizing the remains of the wedding celebration for the funeral that was to follow.
Elle was so focused on the ring, she didn't see her new fiancé gulp in fear as he followed her, knowing Robert Bishop was never a fan of him dating his only daughter, forget how close their parents were in their various and sundry dealings.
"I've one thing to say-," she babbled, as visions of Peter Petrelli, President's brother and Surgeon General, danced in her mind. "-and that's I'm mad for you, too."
He took her arm in his as they practiced their own walk down the aisle, ignoring the family scurrying about them.
"Oh Elle," Peter cooed.
"Oh Peter," she echoed.
"There's one thing left to do," he told her.
For one, brief moment, she got her hopes up that he was finally willing to go all the way!
Her hopes immediately came crashing down.
"That's go see the man who began it," he decided. "When we met in his science exam," he blushed, "it made me give you the eye and then panic." He recalled the anxiety at being separated from his brother, whom he had accompanied to make sure he made up for his failing science grades so he could graduate. Then being partnered up with this tempestuous blonde he had longed for from afar back in high school.
She giggled at his admission, but he continued. "There's one thing left to say and that's- Oh hell, Elle!"
She saw her opening at last. "I love you," they said together, finally kissing. She took charge once more, nearly knocking him to the floor in her eagerness. She at least had the courtesy to block their necking from the witnesses in the room with her wide brimmed hat.
The young girl looked on, thinking of a boy she had a crush on, but then noticed her stern parents glaring at her to hurry along.
Mahogany bookcases filled the room, as did a large desk with a prominent globe of the world. A well-padded armchair swings around revealing the honorable Judge Linderman. A well manicured man with bright blue eyes and a wide nose from too much drink. He was once lean, but now sports a slight paunch. His tanned skin a striking counter to his snow white hair and neatly trimmed beard. He is in his smoking jacket. He speaks directly to his audience in a faintly English accent.
"I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey."
He rises and crosses to the bookshelf. He selects a dossier. We see the title: "The Odessa Affair". He returns to his desk and places it on a bookstand. He puts on his reading glasses and begins to flip through the volume.
We see he has pictures of the previous scene and transcripts bound in, opposite photos of Peter and Elle, as he begins his monologue.
"It seemed a fairly ordinary night when Peter Petrelli and his fiancée, Elle Bishop, two young, ordinary, healthy kids, left Odessa that late November evening to visit Dr. Maury Park, ex-tutor and now friend of both of them," he informs us, flipping through the file. "It's true there were dark storm clouds -heavy, black, and pendulous- toward which they were driving. It's true also that the spare tire they were carrying was badly in need of some air," he intones ominously, before switching to a more flippant mood. "But they being normal kids, and on a night out, well they were not going to let a storm spoil the events of their evening."
He leans closer. "On a night out."
He opens the book to a previously marked place. The red ribbon bears a familiar, stylized S-shape on it. Thunder is heard distantly from somewhere outside.
"It was a night out they were going to remember for a very long time." He began to set the mood, as was dictated into the file...
The pleasant weather of the afternoon has deteriorated into a dark and stormy night. Peter's radio hasn't worked very well and they keep losing reception out here -Art Bell's Coast to Coast AM- to the point Elle finally turned it off. It was open lines, anyway, and any lunatic could call in. Even their cell phones weren't getting a signal, which she thought was strange.
Despite the rain, there are a few souls braving the weather. Elle made note of the next person to pass them. She could swear it was a pair of young Japanese men in an electric car. One seemed to have his arms raised in victory.
"Geez, that's the third car that's passed us," she informed her beau. "Are you sure this thing can't go any faster?"
"Slow and steady wins the race," he reminded her, peering into the rain drenched darkness ahead.
She reconsidered her engagement as she took a bite from a candy "energy" bar she smuggled in her purse, not knowing if or when they were going to reach Nathan and Niki's wedding reception. Peter insisted on letting Dr. Park know first about their engagement, and that Nathan would understand.
He leaned forward, wiped the window, and hummed to himself.
"What's wrong now?" she asked as a roadblock came into view, bearing a "DEAD END" sign and blocking their way.
"I guess the road washed out or we took a wrong turn a few miles back?" he offered.
"What do you mean we?" she asked before realizing, "What happened to that car that just passed us?"
"I don't know," he replied. "I guess we'll just have to turn back," he informed her, throwing the car into reverse and turning to look out the back window as he drove.
"Yeah, this is gonna end well," she muttered to herself.
No sooner had she said that than the tire exploded and the car skidded to a halt.
"What was that bang?"
"We must have run over something," he told her. "The tire just blew out."
She started to say something, but thought better of it, considering their precarious position.
"You'd better wait here while I go for help," he decided.
"Where are you gonna go in the middle of nowhere?"
Peter thought for a minute. "Hey, didn't we pass a castle back down the road a few miles? Maybe they have a telephone I could use?"
"Really?" she asked. "I didn't see anything, or I would have made you stop and get me a couple sliders."
"huh?"
"I'm hungry!"
"Oh, White Castle?" he asked. "No, I think it was just a mansion-type castle?"
She glared at him. "If it was a mansion, why call it a castle?"
He shrugged. "Wait here, I'll be back before you know it."
"I'm coming with you," she decided.
He shook his head. "There's no point in both of us getting wet."
"I'm coming with you," she repeated. The tone of her voice suggested he not argue. "Besides, the owner of that phone might be an axe murderer and there's always safety in numbers."
He shrugged in agreement and got out. She bit her lip on what she really wanted to say. As he kicked the tire in frustration, she grabbed the umbrella out of the backseat, glad she had thought to throw it in there when the weatherman said there was a chance of rain, today.
Half a mile down the road, the wind had twisted the umbrella into so much twisted spikes and torn fabric. If it weren't for the asphalt of the road, she couldn't have been sure they were even headed in the right direction.
Peter offered her shelter under his trench coat, but the wind made it worthless. An hour later, they finally saw the lights of the house and carefully made their way to the main gate.
"There's a light!" Peter nudged her, pointing ahead in the pouring rain.
"I hope they have a good fire going," she sniffled. Thoughts of death by pneumonia raced through her mind.
He nudged her again. "I can see a flag fly, through the pouring rain," he told her. "Just the same, there has got to be something better here for you and me."
She stopped and stared ahead, puzzled. "There's a light."
"A light?"
"Move!" she yelled and pushed him away as a motorcycle roared past them in the rain. He stumbled and fell into the drenched yard alongside the drive.
She tried to see where the biker had come from, or where they had gone, but it was near impossible. Peter had regained his footing and walked with her up to the front door. They could hear sounds of a party from deep within.
She thought she saw someone watching from a second story window as they neared the house, but if they had, they were gone, now. She brushed it off as a fireplace making the shadows dance inside.
"And so, it seemed that fortune had smiled upon Peter and Elle, and they had found the assistance in their plight," Linderman informed his audience, before adding, "or had they?"
Elle tried to shake off some of the rain as Peter pressed the doorbell. The thunder and lightning all but drowned out what she thought was a bell ringing inside. Peter waited patiently a minute before reaching to press it again. As he leaned over, the door slowly creaked open. They could hear the beat of the music slightly better, but it was apparent the source was not near the front door.
The couple jumped back, startled at the appearance of the man. Peter could almost swear he looked like the handyman at the church, only without the glasses?
Whoever he was, he seemed to be sizing up the drenched couple, wondering who they were and what they wanted. He finally gave them a wary, "Hello?" marked by a nearby thunderclap.
Peter jumped, before recovering and sticking out his hand. "Uh...Hi! My name is Peter Petrelli. This is my fiancée, Elle Bishop," he greeted the strange man. "I was wondering if you could help us?"
"Sorry, we're full up on crazy religious types, here," the man said.
"Huh?" Peter wondered before continuing. "No, our car broke down, you see, and we were wondering if you might have a telephone we might use?"
He stared at them a minute. "You're wet."
"Duh! Hello? It's raining," Elle snarked.
"Yes," Peter agreed, somewhat embarrassed by her outburst.
"Yes," the man agreed, as if realizing it for the first time.
Lightning flashed again, revealing a number of vehicles parked just beyond the front door. Peter did a double take, trying to see how many people might be present.
The man made a quick move, thrusting his hand forward toward them. "I think you better both," he began, then seemed to consider his options, "come inside."
"Are you sure? We don't want to be any bother," Peter asked.
Elle elbowed him and stepped forward toward the warmth. "Thanks a bunch." She figured he was checking her out as she passed, but she didn't care. She was already eyeing the place, wondering where she could find the nearest heat source. There didn't seem to be any in the entryway.
Peter joined her. "Sorry about the mess," he apologized as they stood there, dripping.
The man seemed amused and led them forward. "This way." There seemed to be a conveyer of some kind almost blocking a pair of double doors on the far side of the room. To their right, was a staircase leading upstairs, while another room lay to their left, past a large grandfather clock. Scattered around the room were various stuffed animals, some with odd decorations, including a bear with an electric guitar slung over his shoulder and drum sticks clutched in one paw.
"What is this place?" Elle asked the man. He ignored her as he approached the stairwell. A dark shape stirred.
"Probably some hunting lodge for rich weirdos," Peter noted, having seen the homes of some of his father's associates, which were similarly decorated.
"You've arrived on a rather special night," the man informed them. "It's one of the master's affairs."
"Yay," Elle snarked again. "Lucky him."
The shape on the stairs moved. A dark haired woman with lean features rose up, revealing a French maid's uniform. "You're lucky, he's lucky, we're all lucky!" she laughed and tossed her feather duster to her associate.
Peter was already startled from seeing her appear from seemingly nowhere, but it was her laugh that sent shivers down his spine. There was something about her that seemed familiar, but his mind seemed intent on blocking it.
Elle just wanted to find somewhere to warm the fuck up.
The music in the other room seemed to change. A knowing smile was shared between the two servants.
"It's astounding," he said, crossing the room and opening the clock after running the duster across it. "Time is fleeting." A small Japanese man burst out, holding his hands in the air and screaming as he ran out of the room. "Madness takes it's toll." Tossing the duster, he motioned them closer. "But listen closely, not for very much longer." He suddenly jumped away and ran around the lift. "I've got to keep control."
He smiled to his associate as he came around into view again. She approached the couple from behind.
"I remember!" he shouted, having caught the corner of the left, his leg swung out seemingly fighting himself over which direction to go, towards the couple or back around the lift cage. "Doing the Time Warp! Drinking those moments when the blackness would hit me!"
The maid rubbed against Peter and moaned.
"And the void would be calling!"
The maid pushed them forward, towards the lift. The Japanese man suddenly ran out of the side room and thru the doors, the maid and butler pushed them along behind him.
They were greeted by over a dozen oddball people of various shapes, sizes, and ethnicities and all dressed in some variation of a tuxedo wearing a rainbow of cummerbunds and bow ties. They turned as one at the intrusion and screamed.
"LET'S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!"
Peter and Elle were startled and dumbfounded by what they saw as the group repeated the line along with some sort of dance step. They clung to each other, unsure of what was going on, a cult meeting or worse, practice for some reality song and dance competition.
A quick look around the room revealed a juke box in one corner, with a young woman in skimpy, glittery attire. Her head was down, face covered by her sparkling gold top hat that matched her jacket. Opposite her was a refreshment table, laden with various hors d'oeuvres. Across from the entrance they had just come through was some sort of throne on a similar raised dais, that sat empty. For now. The dance floor in front of them was sunken at all sides.
As if they all knew the newcomers had no idea how to perform the dance, the group told them, although Elle suspected the steps were part of the song or rite or whatever the fuck it was they were doing tonight.
"It's just a jump to the left," the butler screamed.
"Then a step to the right!" the chorus shouted back.
"With your hands on your hips," the maid hissed.
"You bring your knees in tight!" they screamed before they jumped in unison into a circle. Neither Elle nor Peter could believe their eyes at that maneuver until they learned the next step. "But it's the pelvic thrust! That really drives you insane!" they screamed before repeating the previous line and gyrating wildly, but in some strange orgiastic pattern. "LET'S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!"
Elle decided she had had enough and grabbed the transfixed Peter, pulling back towards the door they had been shoved through. The maid was quicker, cutting them off as she sang a verse.
"It's so dreamy. Oh, fallacy free me! So you can't see me. No, not at all."
She began to push them back towards the dancers, but Elle managed to steer them towards the snack table.
"You're spaced out on sensation!" she moaned, rubbing against one of the stuffed animals.
"Like you're under sedation!" the butler screamed before she finished, as she stepped behind a partial wall.
"Well secluded, I see all."
The dancers erupted into another chorus, explaining how the dance was done. The butler and maid ran across the floor towards the jukebox as the dancers incorporated a bit of a line dance into their movements. The pair performed some strange arm movements between themselves when they reached their destination. Then the girl on the jukebox spoke up.
"Well I was walking down the street, just having a think," she began her story. "When a snake of a guy gave me an evil wink. Well it shook me up. It took me by surprise. He had a pick-up truck, and the devil's eyes! He stared at me and I felt a change, Time meant nothing. Never would again!"
The dancers erupted again, screaming "LET'S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!" twice before the girl began tap dancing her way across the floor towards the throne. Just before she reached the dais, she tripped over the line of red carpet leading from the entrance to the dais. She began to fall, but landed on a pillow that was not there a moment before. The strange Japanese man who had been running around with the dancers screamed again as he appeared next to her. She shot him an annoyed look, causing him to run off into the crowd.
With her performance over, the group reassembled and performed their chorus one more time. At the end, they all seemed to collapse in exhaustion on the floor. Notable among them was a largish woman with a plain face, a lean, bald, dark-skinned black man, an older gentleman with a very proper vibe to him, a scruffy man who looked like he had been living on the streets, another Japanese man, a small frizzy haired young black man, a middle-aged blond woman carrying a Pomeranian, a scruffy looking guy that reminded Peter of those cavemen from the insurance commercials, and a young redhead who reminded Elle of that girl from the Beverly Hillbillies in demeanor. She didn't like that show. She liked the perky blonde who seemed to be eyeing her man throughout, even less.
Seeing that the performance was probably over, the couple edged toward the door once more. "Should we say something?" Peter asked Elle.
"Say," she shouted, getting more than a few heads popping up. "Anyone here know how to get crunked?"
Puzzled looks were her answer. Then she noticed a bit of excited chatter among the dancers.
Peter groaned. "This isn't the Junior Chamber of Commerce," he reminded her.
"I want to get out of here," she decided.
"We can't go anywhere until we get to a phone," he reminded her.
"Well, ask the butler or someone," she decided. He had risen and shared a knowing, amused look with the maid.
"We don't want to interfere with their celebrations," he told her, smiling politely, but obviously uncomfortably at the recovering dancers. "They're probably foreigners with ways different than our own. They're likely to do some more...folk dancing," he decided to call it. A few snickers were his reply.
"Look," she exclaimed, turning to him and noticing some movement in the lift. "I'm cold, I'm wet, and I'm just plain-" The words caught in her throat, as she tried to swat Peter, oblivious to what was going on behind them.
"Relax," he told her. "I'm here, there's nothing to worry about."
She let out a scream. Peter spun to see what was going on.
The lift door opened and an exotically handsome face stood there, obviously painted white except for eye shadow and the ruby red lips. It was seemingly suspended in air before Peter realized the darkness of the lift was coupled by a silken black cloak pulled tight around the rest of the body belonging to the head. Peter wasn't sure at first if it was a man or woman, but he was strangely excited by it. Then the face opened his mouth and Peter was a lost cause.
"How do you do," he grinned as he leaned against the cage by Peter. "I see you've met my faithful handyman. He's a little brought down because when you knocked, he thought you were the candyman."
Across the room, the butler shared an annoyed look with the maid.
"Don't get strung out by the way I look," he teased as he stepped from the lift and began striding across the dance floor. There seemed an ethereal quality to his movements, drawing both Peter and Elle in as the dancers made way. "Don't judge a book by it's cover," he urged as he took the dais. "I'm not much of a man, by the light of day, but by night, I'm one hell of a lover!"
Elle saw Peter was transfixed, and she gasped in astonishment, realizing she was falling under this mysterious stranger's sway.
Then he threw the cloak off in a flurry of motion. The man's natural caramel coloring made his painted face seem all the more exotic. Elle was instantly jealous he could pull off wearing that skimpy lingerie better than she could for previous lovers. Peter could barely form a coherent thought. Both had unconsciously followed him back onto the dance floor.
Their host explained himself. "I'm just a Sweet Transvestite, from Chennai, India, uh-hunh!" He approached the couple again, circling them, sizing them up. He put himself between them, taking an arm in each of his. "Let me show you around, maybe play you a sound? You look like you're both pretty groovy." He stepped past them, breaking his grasp on them. "Or if you want something visual, that's not too abysmal, we can take in a Jake Gyllenhall movie?"
He stepped toward the refreshment table, taking a cup and filling it with chai tea. Peter followed and explained their plight.
"I'm glad we caught you at home," he began before asking, "Could we use your phone? We're both in a bit of a hurry." He knew he had to leave now, lest he not see Nathan for weeks if not longer and he missed his brother. Although it was no longer a top priority for him at the moment. "We'll just say where we are, then go back to the car," he explained. "We don't want to be any worry."
Their host seemed to ignore him, greeting some of the dancers, who called him by name. "A great pleasure to meet you, Dr. Suresh" one said.
Realizing Peter was done pleading, he turned to him, deliberately tossing his drink into the face of the tall, dark dancer, but acting as if it was too casual to bother with.
"Well, you got caught with a flat? Well, how about that?" he chuckled and began to make his way back to the dais. "Well babies, don't you panic. By the light of the night, it'll seem alright. I'll get you a satanic mechanic!"
As he laid across his throne, the rough looking woman seemed annoyed at this last comment. Suresh ignored her and continued as the butler, maid, and top hatted dancer followed him up to the dais.
"Why don't you stay for the night? Or maybe a bite?" he urged. The girl had a perfect view of his niblets and licked her lips as she eyed him up close. "I could show you my favorite obsession," he teased, then glanced to the butler and ran a hand through the man's hair. "I've been making a man, with blond hair and a tan, and he's good for relieving my...tension."
This last was obviously meant to be an innuendo, and Elle understood perfectly, while it was probably lost on Peter. She then noticed the celebrants had edged closer to him, surrounding the dais on all sides as he reminded them, "I'm just a Sweet Transvestite," which they echoed, "from Chennai, India! Uh-huh!" In one swift move, he stood and slapped his thigh, repeating "I'm just a Sweet Transvestite, from Chennai, India! Uh-HUH!"
The crowd quickly parted, allowing him a path across the floor to the entrance as the chanted the line again. He entered the lift, but turned and faced the assembled crowd.
"So come up to the Lab, and see what's on the slab," he intoned. "I see you shiver with anticipation!" He paused, as if to consider something. "But maybe the rain is really to blame? So I'll remove the cause," he chuckled before turning serious, "but not the symptom."
With that, he slammed the door and the lift rose out of sight. The celebrants applauded for whatever reason and began filing out of the room. In less than a minute, Peter and Elle found themselves alone with the trio from the dais.
The maid began pulling at Peter's wet clothing as the butler did the same to Elle, startling her.
"Just what do you think you're doing, buster?" she threatened the manservant.
"Slowly, slowly, it's too nice a job to rush," the girl urged, eyeing Peter as he was stripped to his underwear.
"It's alright Elle," he urged her. "We'll play along for now, and pull out the aces when the time is right."
The maid and butler exchanged amused looks as they tossed the sodden garments to the girl. That's when he noticed she was checking him out.
"Uh, hi," he stuck out his hand as the maid tried to pull his sweater off. "My name's Peter Petrelli. This is my fiancée, Elle Bishop. And you are?"
"You're very lucky to be invited up to Mohinder's laboratory," she informed them. "Some people would give their right arm for the privilege."
"People like you, maybe?" he guessed she lucked into this job of hers, whatever it was.
"Ha! I've seen it!" she mocked him, tossing their clothes on the floor as they were pushed toward the entrance. The lift had been sent back down for them and they were unceremoniously shoved inside.
The maid handed the butler a bottle of champagne, which he poured into a glass before entering the lift. He took a quick pull before offering it to their guests. Peter mumbled a "no thanks" but before Elle could reply, the man dropped the bottle and slammed the lift door closed.
She was going to have to seriously rethink this courtship if Peter was going to be like this!
The lift was slow and the tension was thick. Elle inquired of the girl, "Is he -the doctor?- is he your husband?"
"Mohinder married?" she scoffed.
The butler replied in a bored tone. "The master is not yet married, nor do I think he ever will be," he informed them before adding. "We are simply his...servants." He shared yet another look with the maid.
Elle caught it this time. "What about you two?"
No one answered, but they chuckled amongst themselves until the lift came to an abrupt halt. They pushed the couple out into the room.
It was bright, with tile and marble everywhere. A large machine lay under a crimson cloak on another dais toward the center of the room. Their host had changed into a surgical smock and waited there for their arrival. The butler stepped forward and presented the doctor with the champagne flute.
Behind the hidden machine lay a wall of controls. This wall was part of an observation ramp like an operating theatre, Peter realized, much like in his medical studies. The ramp way was filled with the celebrants from below. Several looked on with interest as to what lay under the sheet.
Above the machine was an ornate chandelier, lined with tubing leading who knows where, so it wasn't for light. Peter wasn't exactly sure where the light came from, but the whole room was lit and the only source he could see was a skylight above the chandelier, which still showed the storm raging outside.
Opposite the observation wall was a curtained stage with a podium set up in front of it. It was obvious there was another room behind the curtain, but neither he nor Elle were in a position to inquire. To either side of the curtain were statues of David, one a mirror image of the other, which made him realize the odd thing about a painting down below: it was the mirror image of what it should have been. This was why it had seemed odd to him, before and he didn't know why. Both statues held up a loudspeaker wired to the podium. Evidently, this Doctor Suresh was going to give some sort of demonstration, tonight.
Peter tried not to notice the other strange thing about the statues. They weren't exact replicas of David, as they had been "modified" to the point of embarrassment. If Elle noticed, she didn't say anything, thankfully.
Unfortunately for Peter, she was admiring the "craftsmanship" until their host began to bark orders, distracting Peter from noticing anything else.
"Angela, Daphne, go and assist Noah," he commanded. Each stepped out from behind the young couple as their name was called. The trio quickly stepped to the side to double-check everything. "I will entertain-?" He held out his hand and gave them an amused chuckle, seeing them in their underwear.
Peter had noticed a few of the observers taking an interest in the scantily clad pair. Being a medical student, he tried not to be embarrassed about their state of undress. He put on a swagger and stepped forward, taking Suresh's hand with a firm grip.
"Peter Petrelli," he introduced himself again, noting the other man's grip was stronger, causing him to wince slightly as he introduced "This is my fiancée, Elle Squishop." He quickly realized his slip and corrected himself. "Bishop."
Mohinder kissed her hand. "Enchante. How nice," he charmed her before circling around Peter, getting an eyeful. "And what charming underclothes you both have," he noted as Noah stepped forward with two spare lab coats. "Here, put these on. They'll make you feel less...vulnerable," he snickered.
He watched the pair dress with interest before continuing. "It's not often we receive visitors here, let alone offer them hospitality."
"Hospitality?" Peter sputtered, throwing the word back at him. "All we wanted to do was use your telephone. A reasonable request you chose to ignore!"
"Don't be ungrateful, Peter," he said with some disdain.
"Ungrateful?" he challenged.
Suresh seems amused by this show of bravado. "How forceful you are, Peter," he cooed, looking the man over. "Such a perfect specimen of manhood. So dominant." He noticed Elle staring at him with a quiet rage. "You must be awfully proud of him, Elle?"
"Yeah, not really," she replied. Peter winced.
Suresh chuckled as he sipped his champagne. "Do you have any tattoos, Peter?"
Peter was put off by such an inquiry. "Certainly not!"
"Oh well," he mused then turned to Elle. "How about you?"
She burst out laughing. Like she would tell this stranger, no matter how good looking he was! Wait, dammit! Stop it!
Noah stepped back up to the trio. "Everything is in readiness, master. We merely await your word."
Suresh seemed annoyed at the intrusion. He finished the champagne and shoved the flute toward the other man as he headed for the curtained dais.
He stepped to the microphone and blew on it. "Testing, one, two, three? Can everyone hear me?" Polite chuckles from the observation deck were his answer. He pressed forward.
"Tonight, my unconventional conventionists," he began. "Tonight, you are to witness a breakthrough in biochemical resuhch," he informed the crowd, adding "and paradise is to be mine!"
The observers erupted in polite applause. Peter's medical background had him intrigued, but Elle elbowed him again when she saw his interest. Suresh basked in the adulation for a long moment until he held up his hand for silence and began monologue his discovery.
"It was strange the way it happened. One of those quirks of fate really. One of those moments when you seem irredeemably lost: you panic; you're trapped; your back's against the wall. There's no way out, and then suddenly, you get a break," he enthused, a salacious smile across his face. "All the pieces seem to fit into place. What a sucker you've been. What a fool I'd been. The answer was there all the time. It took a small accident to make it happen. An accident. That's how I discovered the secret. That elusive ingredient, that spahk that is the breath of life itself!"
There was a slight commotion amongst the observers at this.
He turned his attention to the couple after crossing to the covered machine. "You see, Peter and Elle, you are fortunate. For tonight is the night that my beautiful creature is destined to be born!"
Daphne and Noah had taken up stations to either side of the machine and taken up the edges of the sheet. At Suresh's signal, which Peter could have sworn was Klingon word Q'plaH!, the pair yanked the sheet away, revealing a large red metal tank filled with liquid. There was something floating towards the bottom, wrapped in cloth, like a mummy. It took Peter a moment to realize that was exactly what it was. He leaned forward, trying to see through the liquid at the body inside, but there was a commotion behind the tank.
Angela shoved a blonde girl out into the open. Noah fumed.
"CLAIRE! What do you think you're doing?" Suresh accused.
She seemed upset at having been discovered. "What about me?" she cried as she stepped toward the scientist.
"You are nothing but a spoiled brat," he informed her. "You think it's all about you, don't you?" he derided her. Get out of my sight, girl," he ordered. "Now! Go to your room!" He pointed away from the lab.
She opened her mouth to argue, but he raised his arm as if to backhand her. She shied away and turned to Noah. Noah gave her a look of utter disgust.
"But daddy!" she whined. Noah made a movement toward her, scaring her and causing her to trip backward over her own two feet. The observation deck erupted into laughter, including Elle, who was bent double at the scene, Peter noticed. He felt sorry for the girl, whoever she was.
"Fine, I'm calling the police!" she boasted, heading for the door. "They're going to arrest every single one of you sick, sick perverts for the abominable things you do!" Peter heard the dirty blonde woman's dog bark at her as she stomped off, but then stopped before she left the room. "And your little dog, too!" she shouted at them.
At this, the Pomeranian jumped from the balcony and chased her out of the room. Satisfied she was gone, he turned, licking his lips and returned to Noah, who picked him up, let the dog lick his face, then handed him back up to the woman in the observation gallery. The other guests seemed amused at this.
Suresh watched with mild amusement before turning back to the matter at hand. "All apologies," he smiled to his audience. "Some people just don't know when to leave. Now, back to the matter at hand." He motioned to his assistants. "Shall we?" Noah approached a control panel, while the ladies stood to the side, out of the way.
Suresh began barking orders at the trio. "Throw open the switches on the sonic oscillator." As Noah turned a large knob, Peter noticed one of the rough looking, tattooed observers grabbed what appeared to be an oxygen mask and placed it to his face, which soon began turning red from exertion.
"Step up the reactor power input three more points!" he instructed as Noah made another adjustment. The caveman had already gone to another control panel and was gripping some sort of device tightly. He seemed to be straining as well.
Noah began turning a donkey wheel and the chandelier descended. Suresh stepped behind the tank onto some sort of step neither Elle nor Peter could see from their vantage point. When the ring was in reach, Suresh began frantically adjusting dials and colored liquids began draining into the tank. Peter couldn't help but wonder about the nutrients and dosages.
Elle couldn't care less, now that the excitement of CLAIRE!s intrusion had died down. "Peter, I'm bored," she huffed.
"It's alright, Elle," he replied, engrossed in the procedure. It was something like out of Frankenstein, he imagined. A crack of thunder seemed to emphasize his thought. Then he began to feel it. The hairs on his arm seemed to stand on edge.
"Peter!" Elle yelped, grabbing him and pointing at the tank. A sudden discharge of static ran through him as she did, arcing out from her hand into the tank.
Frank was knocked back. He picked himself up and glared at the blonde. Still, he was somewhat impressed by what she did, but hoped she didn't just ruin the pinnacle of his achievements. That certainly wouldn't do, not tonight of all nights.
He looked back into the tank. The first thing he noticed was the liquid had evaporated. The second thing was that the shape inside was beginning to move.
He retook his spot behind the tank and watched as the being wrapped in bandages reached up and stood. "Life," he shouted excitedly. "I bring you LIFE!" he cackled, and grabbed at the hood covering the head of the man.
A ruggedly handsome face with blond hair lay revealed. He scanned the room, amazed and confused about his surroundings. He began to crawl over the wall of the tank. Suresh reached for him, "Oh, Adam!" he howled.
Adam tumbled to the floor, but quickly righted himself with Noah's help. He seemed transfixed by Elle for a long moment, only distracted when Daphne approached, scissors in hand. Adam tried to shy away, but Noah grabbed his hands and held him still. In no time, Daphne had sliced through his bandages, letting them fall away.
Peter and Elle blinked in surprise. Peter was confused about how she had freed the man so fast, while Elle was too busy admiring the fine specimen of man that stood before them. He was naked except for a gold lamé speedo and a matching pair of boots. He shuddered in the chill air of the laboratory, letting the ladies (and a few men) get a good look at his somewhat muscular build, dusted in blond hair across his chest, arms, and legs. Elle admired the furry chest leading down to his treasure trail, which led under the too tight trunks, leaving nothing to the imagination. Peter seemed to notice this, too, and blushed when he realized where he was looking.
"Oh, Adam!" Suresh squealed once more, rounding the tank and charging his creation. Adam shied away and began running away from the scientist, his eyes mad with lust.
Adam howled in fear and began a pleading diatribe. "The Sword of Damocles is hanging over my head," he exclaimed to the room while evading Suresh. "And I've got the feeling someone's going to be cutting the thread." He approached Elle, begging, "Oh, woe is me. My life is a misery. "Oh, can't you see, that I'm at the start of a pretty big downer?"
Suresh chased after him. "Adam!" he howled.
Adam ran away from the man, and continued pleading his case amongst the gallery. "I woke up this morning with a start when I fell out of bed."
"That ain't no crime!" the observers consoled him.
"And left from my dreaming was a feeling of un-nameable dread."
"That ain't no crime!" they repeated, and continued to do so.
"My high is low. I'm dressed up with no place to go. And all I know, is I'm at the start of a pretty big downer."
"Adam!"
"That ain't no crime!"
"No, no, no, no!" he cried out, evading the man once more. The gallery began some sort of line dance as he ran across the main room again. Suresh ran into the middle-aged woman, her dog barked at him for the disruption. He scoffed and pushed them back and continued his pursuit.
Linderman paused his recounting to add his own caveat. "Adam needed peace of mind, he didn't know he was doing just fine," he assured his audience, acknowledging, "He was the product of another time, and feeling down? That ain't no crime."
Adam repeated his plea once more. "The Sword of Damocles is hanging over my head," he exclaimed again while continuing to evade Suresh. "And I've got the feeling someone's going to be cutting the thread." He approached one of the female observers, begging, "Oh, woe is me. My life is a misery. "Oh, can't you see, That I'm at the start of a pretty big downer?"
The observers assured him once more, "That ain't no crime!"
As Adam cleared the far end of the observers, Suresh made a final dive at him, barely grabbing his ankle, which slipped through his fingers. He pounded the floor in frustration as he watched Adam return to the tank. His trio of assistants took up flanking positions lest he attempt to escape again.
Suresh picked himself up in a huff, straightening his medical scrubs as he did so. He approached his creation with a scolding look. "Well, that's no way to behave on your first day out!" he chided the newborn man.
Adam looked wounded.
Suresh reconsidered his approach. "But seeing as how you're such an extraordinary beauty," he cooed, "I'm prepared to forgive you." He looked across to his assistants. "I just love success."
Noah spoke first. "He's a credit to your genius, master."
"Yes," Mohinder acknowledged.
"A triumph of your will," Angela noted.
"Yes," he agreed.
"He's okay."
The others froze. Suresh slowly turned to the young blonde, Noah and Angela looking perturbed.
"Okay?" he repeated. "O-kay?" he mocked her. She winced at the accusation as Suresh grabbed Adam's hand and led him down to Elle and Peter, declaring "I think we can do better than that."
He presented the nearly naked man to the young couple, draping an arm over his shoulders. "Well," he grinned, admiring his creation then looking at Elle. "What do you think?"
She gave the blonde man another once over as Peter stammered to answer. "Well, I don't like a man with-" She paused to consider her next words after the man's outburst, and looked to Peter. "-too many muscles." There was an obvious disappointment in her voice.
"I didn't make him for you!" he declared. "He carries the Chandra Suresh seal of approval!"
By this time, Noah and Daphne had retrieved some weight equipment from a side alcove behind the lift and wheeled it out into the main area of the room. Elle and Peter sidestepped the pair, wondering just what the fuck was going on.
Mohinder began to croon to them. "A weakling, weighing 98 pounds, will get sand in his face when kicked to the ground," he explained. Angela wheeled over a projection screen with a workout diagram emblazoned on it bearing the creator's name Chandra Suresh. "But soon I the gym, with a determined chin," he admired the regimen for a moment before turning back to his audience as Noah and Daphne handed Adam a free weight for each hand.
"The sweat from his pores as he works for his cause," he almost groaned in admiration, "will make him glisten and gleam. And with massage and just a little bit of steam," he ran a finger down Adam's chest toward the man's groin. Adam grunted in annoyance. "He'll be pink and quite clean," he noted, adding, "He'll be a strong man! Oh, honey!" as he pulled his finger away.
"But the wrong man," his assistants confided to Peter and Elle after bringing out the pommel horse.
If Suresh heard, he gave no indication, ogling Adam as he explained his predecessor's regimen. "He'll eat nutritious high protein and swallow raw eggs. Try to build up his shoulder, chest, arms, and legs," he said with lust, leaning over the padded horse. "Such an effort! If he only knew of my plan! In just seven days, I can make you a man!"
Adam handed him the weights, which Mohinder immediately handed off to Peter, whereupon Noah took them back as Adam dropped to the floor and began a round of push ups. The good doctor watched his creation's muscles strain intensely as he began the next phase of training.
"He'll do press-ups and chin-ups and do the snatch, clean and jerk." He approached the couple, pointing out the weight lifting on the chart. "He thinks dynamic tension must be hard work," he confided. "Such strenuous living, I just don't understand, when in just seven days -oh baby!- I can make you a man!" he cooed over Adam who had now stood back up.
Suresh pushed him back against the wall under the gallery and started to draw him closer when a loud beeping erupted from one of the consoles on the wall.
"What? Who?" Suresh demanded, annoyed that someone had interrupted him.
The answer came from the nubile waif, Daphne. "MATTY!"
The little Japanese man ran across the floor, screaming "YATTA!" once more.
Neither Peter, Elle, nor the assembled observers expected what came next.
Cast Mash-up:
Nathan / Ralph Hapschott
Niki / Betty Munroe
Peter / Brad Majors
Elle Bishop / Janet Weiss
Noah Bennet / Riff Raff
Angela / Magenta
Daphne / Columbia
Mohinder Suresh / Frank N Furter
Adam Monroe / Rocky Horror
Matt Parkman / EDDIE!
Maury Parkman / Dr. Scott
Linderman / Criminologist
Transylvanians / assorted characters