Disclaimer – I do not own Calvin and Hobbes or any related characters. The concept of Moe as a criminal is from the users at Cahm.
Note – The story skips between an omnipotent narration to Tracer's third person narration (except when talking directly). This may get confusing but I have done this to provide a feel to the comics, so please bear with me and say whether it's too difficult to read fluently.
THE XEROX
Chapter I
A large laboratory decorated everywhere with machinery and electronics, one panel on the wall is activated and a series of muffled bleeps ensue. The whole room is shrouded in darkness. A thick metal door snaps open suddenly throwing an oblong ray of light on the floor. Two figures stand in the doorway, blocking the light entering. They look ominously in and close the door after stepping in the shadows. The two are Moe, criminal mastermind and leader of an international organization and his chief engineer Duke.
In a deep monotone Moe asked, "Progress report Duke."
Duke replied, "The device is almost ready Moe but I urge you not to…"
"Silence imbecile, I've had enough of your ethics." Moe barked immediately.
Duke answered, his face growing slightly fearful, "But Moe I met him you have no idea about how strong he…"
With a single swing of his arm Moe grabs Duke by his throat and lifts him off the ground, slamming him violently on the wall where the buttons and levers are situated. Duke heaves to catch his breath, gripping Moe's arm.
Moe said threateningly, "It's not wise to disobey me Duke, understand?"
Duke gasps for air.
"Speak up my friend, I didn't catch what you said just now" Moe said sarcastically.
"Yes…Moe" replied Duke in a hoarse whisper.
At this Moe throws the limp body of Duke to the ground, where he lies gasping for a few seconds, clutching his throat defensively. Moe stands in the darkness looking down at him, thinking.
"Do not try my patience Duke, once the Xerox is mine your usefulness will be over and it'll be time for an early retirement."
Unknown to him Duke is also making plans for the future, "No, I don't think he knows about the DNA banks yet. He's keeping me close for my skill in genetics and machines. The fool might as well be wearing blinkers, he is blind to everything around him."
The location is a bureau, sunshine shimmers in through the open curtains illuminating the dense smoke waving in the air. The room has several large metal cabinets to one side, a rather droopy little plant resting on them. Some cardboard boxes lie on the other side with several miscellaneous papers in them. In the middle stands a large oak desk, handsomely crafted. There is a telephone, playing cards, a packet of cigarettes, some files and a large bottle of Vodka on the table. On the glass on the door that was a few meters in front of the desk was written in large letters, "Tracer Bullet – Private Eye."
"I mused, blowing out a thin stream of smoke, I couldn't believe that was the last Vodka in the flat. I would have gone out to buy some more but I was broke, I hadn't had a single case for weeks. It's times such as these that made you wonder why evil criminals lie low when you had financial difficulties.
After a while I decided I should scour around a little for jobs in the city, but on the other hand I was out of Vodka, I needed my booze if I was to be on top condition. Luckily my brain and heart reached an agreement soon and I headed off to a bar."
Moe and Duke are standing in front of a panel, Duke is entering something in a computer as Moe stands a little behind him.
"It is ready Moe," said Duke.
Moe replied sinisterly, "Good, the world leaders have been rather unappreciative towards my cause until now, this little demonstration will have the added bonus of vexing them along with my real plan.
Duke said, "Transmission in 5..4..3..2..1…"