I hate reading! Someone tell me what's on the menu!
-Paris Hilton
New York was bitter and cold in late October, as the chill winds of autumn gave way to the icy winds of winter. It was difficult for many New Yorkers to deal with, but even worse for the poor and homeless who had no heating or even shelter.
Todd was one of those street people, who was simply trying to find a warm place to sleep for the night. Dressed in fourth- and fifth-hand garments he received from the church, he crouched and huddled over one of the grates leading to the sewers, hoping to absorb some of the heated air coming from the subway trains passing underneath.
Todd closed his eyes…
…and suddenly snapped them open again as he heard the footsteps.
Todd stood up, his bleary eyes trying to focus to see in the evening light.
The next thing he knew, he was back against the wall of the building, slammed between the eyes by a pair of brass knuckles.
Todd raised his fists to try and defend himself, but he then cried in pain as his arm was slammed by something hard and solid from the side.
A baseball bat.
They surrounded Todd, beating him with chains, bats, and knuckles from every angle. They functioned as a well-oiled machine, each playing off the other's movements.
Todd slumped down against the wall, holding his shattered hand and cradling his broken knee. His side felt as if it were on fire-at least two of his ribs were broken.
"Like, stop it already!" he heard a shrill, scratchy feminine voice order the thugs. "You don't wanna kill him, or whatever shit like that, huh? I ain't paying you for that!"
"Yes, mistress," one of the thugs answered, as the men backed off. With his one good eye, Todd made out eight or nine of them, holding everything from chains to crowbars to tire irons. They were all fairly young…
…teenagers?
He was being beaten by teenagers. They looked like football players by their size and muscles. They stood around the lone girl in their group, although Todd couldn't make fully make her out, save for her bleached-blonde hair.
"Alright, you guys got the blow?" Todd heard her ask.
"Which kind of 'blow' do you mean, mistress?" one of the thugs asked.
"Both the kinds, you idiot!" she snapped. "You all ready to get it up or not?"
"Of course we are," they answered in unison.
"And the other kind of blow?" she demanded.
"It's being delivered back at your place as we speak," another thug replied.
"About fucking time," she muttered. "I haven't been high in…ah hell. You'll get to go first tonight," she said to one of her goons, "if you do this one last thing for me."
"And that is?" the goon asked.
"Hit him baby one more time!" she screeched.
As painful as the physical beating had been, and as painful as the final blow from the crowbar had been, Todd would have been more than willing to deal with it all again…
…just as long as he didn't have to hear that hideous singing.
SLEEPWALKER #10
"SOUR NOTES"
Kenny helped himself to another brownie, enjoying the sweet flavor and the even sweeter feeling he got from eating it. He was ready for his Tuesday afternoon nap-a-thon, helped off to dreamland by…
…a knock at the door.
As he usually did when he had a problem, Kenny ignored it and hoped it would go away on its own. Unfortunately, the person at the door knocked a second time, and a third.
Grumbling, Kenny went to the door and flung it open, half-expecting it to be Julia complaining about his missing a study session, or Red threatening to put his foot up Kenny's ass for eating those "special brownies" of his.
Instead, he found Rick, holding a shopping bag, his hair tousled and his chin unshaven. Kenny would have told him he looked like hell, except that Kenny knew better to throw stones when he lived in a glass house.
"What do you want, man?" Kenny snapped, annoyed that Rick was cutting into his buzz.
"I…wanted to get you an overdue birthday present," Rick said, holding out the shopping bag. "A present, plus some interest for screwing you over."
Kenny looked at Rick for a minute, and then shrugged his shoulders, leading Rick into his apartment and slamming the door behind him. He took the shopping bag and emptied it on the kitchen table.
The first thing that caught his eye was a large amount of baking supplies-eggs, brown sugar, flour…
Kenny grinned knowingly at Rick, who just smiled ruefully.
The other item in the bag was a copy of Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story, a copy of the Family Guy direct-to-DVD movie.
"You know how I was really, really pissed at you for forgetting my birthday?" Kenny grinned.
"Yeah?" Rick asked.
"I'm still pissed," Kenny continued.
Rick's face fell.
"But with this stuff, I guarantee you I'll get over it," Kenny smiled. "You wanna watch it?"
Rick was at first inclined to refuse, knowing he had to get back to work to keep his marks up. But then he realized that he had gotten a grace period from his professors for getting caught in that Bookworm guy's attack on 'Chug-a-Lug House'.
"What the hell, sure," he finished.
"Want any brownies?" Kenny offered.
"Nah," Rick answered. "A straight kahlua would hit the spot, though."
"Dude, it's like 4:30 in the afternoon," Kenny answered. "Isn't it a little early to start drinking?"
"Look, you got it or not?" Rick demanded.
Kenny looked at him.
"Yeah, yeah, sure."
"I don't know why that John Kricfalusi guy is always ripping on Family Guy," Kenny muttered to Rick as they watched the movie.
"John who?" Rick asked.
"The two-bit hack who created that stupid Ren and Stimpy shit. It sucked so, so, so bad."
"Oh yeah," Rick answered. "That stuff was terrible. But how should I know why he has it in for Family Guy?"
"I'll tell you," Kenny answered. "John Kricfalusi is just jealous that Seth McFarlane's cartoons are actually, you know, funny."
"You know, you're right," Rick realized. "Makes you wonder where The Simpsons gets off razzing Family Guy."
"Matt Groening should be ashamed of himself," Kenny said angrily. "The Simpsons has been on the air for almost a decade past its expiry date. It should have been cancelled like, seven years ago. It used to be good, but now…"
Rick shrugged, and let Kenny ramble on. He had never been one for much television except for the news. He was more interested in the likes of Shakespeare and Marlowe than Saturday Night Live.
That said, Family Guy was still pretty enjoyable.
Especially with a third bottle of beer.
Rick sat entranced by the music, mesmerized by Alyssa and Gwen Stacy as they spun and danced to Swan Lake. They played the roles of Odile and Odette to perfection, lifting Rick's spirits. He was struck by how sad and withdrawn Gwen looked as the curtain fell, even as he and his friends stood up to applaud.
Red, Julia, Cyrus and Kenny were all there…but Peter Parker was nowhere to be found.
His empty seat stuck out like a sore thumb in the otherwise crowded theater.
Rick had not been able to make it to Alyssa's Sunday performance, being held up in the hospital after Bookworm's attack, but he had been able to make it for the Wednesday edition. Everyone had promised to be there, and had kept their promises…
…except for Peter.
"You were fantastic!" Rick enthused to Alyssa, hugging her tight as she and Gwen emerged from the dressing room with the rest of the female dancers.
"Uh…Rick?" Alyssa began, her voice slightly muffled.
"You're crushing me," she finished, as Rick realized he was still embracing her, the others looking at him askance.
Blushing a deep red, Rick released her and let the other guys crowd around Alyssa to congratulate her, noticing Julia and Gwen in an intense discussion.
"That's horrible!" Gwen was saying.
Julia nodded.
"It's the sixth beating this month. And, of course, the police can't be bothered to investigate."
"So, the usual time and place?" Gwen asked.
"Looks like it," Julia sighed. "Maybe if the city put some more funding into its shelters, they wouldn't be caught after dark and be vulnerable to roving gangs like that."
"What are you talking about?" Rick asked them, coming forward.
"You haven't heard?" Gwen asked in surprise. "There's been a rash of beatings and attacks on homeless people recently. Street people have been found beaten to within an inch of their lives. It's sick."
"We're holding a protest in front of police headquarters on Saturday," a frustrated Julia continued. "We're trying to get the police to conduct more patrols in the slum areas, and get the city to put up some more funding for homeless shelters so those people aren't caught in the streets after dark, easy prey for whatever sick freaks prey on them."
"Can you come?" Gwen asked him. "We need all the help we can get."
Rick frowned.
"I really need to get my grades back on track. Can I, like…make a donation or something?"
"Don't you care?" Gwen snapped at him.
"Gwen!" Julia admonished her. "Sure, Rick. Every little bit helps."
"Will Andrew Jackson do?" Rick asked, taking a $20 bill out of his wallet.
"You bet," Julia answered. "Thanks a lot. I know it's been rough for you lately. What's the matter anyway?"
"I…it's complicated. I'll tell you some other time," Rick said hastily. "How about you? You don't look so good," he asked Gwen.
Gwen sighed.
"Peter promised me he'd be here," she answered. "I can't imagine where he'd be. How could he just duck out on-"
"Hey, maybe something came up," Rick said, trying to help. "Maybe something with his Uncle Ben, or his job-"
"That's what it always is," Gwen muttered in reply.
"We all have to deal with things we don't want to," Rick interrupted her before she could continue. "Life is always throwing us curveballs. Something happens that could change your life forever. Peter lost his Aunt May. Who knows what he has to do because of that? I don't think he wanted to miss your performance," Rick said emphatically.
Julia looked at Rick in astonishment, while Gwen merely smiled sadly.
"I should know," she said with a chuckle. "Dad told me the same thing about what happened after Mom died. Funny how things can change overnight, can't they?"
They were interrupted by Cyrus and the others coming back to join them.
"Hey, we're all off to the Blue Star for dinner. You coming or what?" Cyrus asked Rick and the girls, referring to a popular restaurant and bar.
Rick and his friends were in for a very rude awakening when they arrived at the Blue Star, however. Its parking lot was completely filled, and the building rumbled with the sounds of a disc jockey, even as strobe lights flashed from within through the windows into the darkened street.
Thinking that there was a band performing, the group entered, only to be turned away by the doorman.
"What the hell's going on?" Red angrily demanded.
"I'm sorry, sir," the doorman apologized. "The entire restaurant is booked for tonight. Miss Cross was very insistent that-"
"Let me guess," Julia said, suddenly butting in. "Felicity Hopkins Cross, right?"
"Why, yes," the guard said in surprise. "How did you-"
"She's a high school student!" Julia shouted. "How the hell was she able to rent a bar?"
"Miss Cross pays very, very well, ma'am," the doorman scowled. "Now, I will ask you and your party to leave."
"Hey!" they suddenly heard a loud, shrill voice. "What the fuck is all this?" the voice slurred, before the girl stumbled up to the front entrance.
The teenage girl was Felicity Hopkins Cross. Well-known in New York high society, her bleached-blonde hair, cheap overdone costumed jewelry, screeching voice, and perpetual reek of perfume and booze were famous at all of New York's party areas. She staggered towards the group, dressed in a pair of ragged cutoff jeans and a ratty T-shirt with the caption Boys, Boys, Boys! written on the front. A bottle of champagne hung loosely from her hand, leading a trail of champagne back to the party room where Christina Aguilera music blared loud enough to wake the dead, and make the living wish they were dead.
Julia scowled at Felicity's appearance, while the others merely stared. Felicity looked from one of the students to the other, before finally pulling a wad of bills out of her pocket.
"Four of you?" she said in surprise. "I hope you realize I only have four grand on me right now, so that'll be only a thousand for each of you. So, which one of you brought the smack?" she slurred, trying to make herself heard over the hideous music blaring from the party room.
"Booze, gigolos, and crack," Julia snapped at Felicity. "Give me one good reason why I don't call the police and have you arrested on the spot."
"Who the…oh, it's you," Felicity said as she suddenly recognized Julia. "You can't get me busted. Daddy's got a lot of friends in high places. Besides, I haven't done anything to your silly brother, so piss off and get lost."
"Just don't get behind the wheel again," Julia turned away in disgust, leading the others away with her. Felicity flipped them off as they left, before going back to her party.
"What the hell was that all about?" Cyrus asked Julia as they left the restaurant.
"Felicity developed a crush on my younger brother, so she started harassing him with e-mails, text-messaging him, phoning him at all hours of the day, made threats against his girlfriend. We had to finally get a restraining order after she nearly sideswiped him and his girlfriend with her car on their way back from a date last year. She was DWI, obviously."
"And she's still out on the streets?" Red asked incredulously.
"Don't ask me how it works," Julia replied in disgust. "I don't know how she does it."
"How did she find out his name, much less get his phone number?" Alyssa asked.
"Damned if I know," Julia answered. "Whatever she does, it can't be good."
"Simon! SIMON!" Felicity slurred later that night as she stumbled into the front doors of her mansion, yelling for her butler.
The butler quickly appeared.
"I want this guy's name, number, everything you can find on him," she said, handing him a photograph. "Get it to me now, you hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am," Simon said calmly. He was well-used to his employer's antics…just as he was well-used to her vomiting all over him whenever she staggered in the door from one of her late-night expeditions.
Tonight was no exception.
After hauling Felicity up to her room, the butler calmly looked at the photo, taken from the restaurant's lobby security camera.
Rick Sheridan and his friends were prominently displayed in the photo, Rick's face circled with a marker.
Two days later, Rick was busy with schoolwork, deeply immersed in The Taming of the Shrew when he received a telephone call. Muttering in annoyance, he got up to answer it.
Much to his displeasure, Rick heard what sounded like a pack of alley cats screaming in pain, until he realized it was someone singing.
His first instinct was to slam down the phone, but then he began being drawn in to listen to it by some bizarre fascination, akin to wanting to watch some truly disgusting spectacle merely for the shock value. It dulled his wits and fogged his brain, as he began to fall into a trance.
"Come to me, I'm waiting by the phone," the voice on the other end went. "Here at Hopkins Manor, I'm all alone. I'll set the tone, you'll be my drone."
In a mindless daze, Rick got up, went to the bathroom, and headed for the door, picking up his wallet to take the subway to Hopkins Manor.
In Rick's mind, Sleepwalker was suddenly jolted out of his meditations by hearing the song over the phone. He was at first fascinated by the strange melody he heard through Rick's ears…and then surprised that the passage to the human world was opening as Rick fell into a trance.
Sleepwalker's first instinct was to enter into the human world, and try to jolt Rick back to his senses. But then he realized the foolishness of such a gesture-whoever had sung the message to Rick would just do it again, and they'd be back to square one. He decided to wait a moment to see where Rick would go, as Rick's eyes were still open.
Besides, he was fascinated by the bizarre song he had heard over the phone.
Felicity finally put the finishing touches on her costume as she and her gigolos prepared to go out again. Her mutant powers had manifested only a few months ago-it used to be that when she sang, all it did was make people cringe. But later, her voice had developed a strangely hypnotic quality to it-she was able to use it to force people into a mindless trance, turning them essentially into zombies under her control. She found that she could even command inanimate objects to do her bidding with this strange power.
So what did she do with it?
Get involved in mutant politics?
Lend herself to a worthy cause?
Given that her heroes were Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan, the answer is no.
She used it to put half the football team under her spell and use them as a criminal gang when she went out at night, breaking into high-end boutiques and jewelry stores to steal valuable items (commanding the alarm systems to shut off, cameras to stop recording, and doors to open at her command), and randomly beat poor people, before coming back to indulge in coke and booze for the rest of the night. She also used it to get people to give her drugs or let her off the hook if she was arrested, and especially to get Daddy to spend money on her and spoil her rotten.
Felicity was dressed in a loud neon-pink costume, with hot pants, knee-high boots, elbow-length gloves, a halter top, and a domino mask all marked in the same bright color. She wore a cape of expensive mink fur, and had a large, gaudy "L" stitched across the front of her costume with glitter.
Lullaby had to go out in style, of course.
Lullaby tapped her foot impatiently as her goons stood around her, waiting for her latest recruit to arrive. Fortunately, the doorbell rang soon after.
Rick was ushered in by Simon, who was as much under his mistress's spell as were her parents. The butler went back outside to ready Felicity's limousine for her nightly excursion.
"Ooh, you are hot," she smirked at Rick, who merely stood there dumbly.
"Thank you, mistress," he said dully.
"All right!" she cheered. "Who's up for smacking around some poor people?"
Sleepwalker watched the strange scene, hiding in the trees near Hopkins Manor. He had emerged from Rick's mind as soon as he could find a suitable hiding place to follow Rick without being seen.
Lullaby and her gang, including Rick, were eventually dropped off in a poor area of New York, near the infamous Hell's Kitchen. Sleepwalker had so far stayed out of sight, fortunate that he had not yet seen any crimes or violence taking place to distract him from what was happening to Rick.
Curiosity soon turned to horror as Sleepwalker saw Rick emerge from the limo with a baseball bat in his hands.
Mrs. Seymour braced herself against the night's bitter cold, trying to muster the strength to make it the last few blocks to her apartment. She was a widow now, ever since Harold had died two years ago. She still managed to get by on his pension, although it wasn't much, especially these days.
She rounded the corner, barely steps away from her apartment, until she was suddenly dragged into an alley. She screamed as she was surrounded by three huge young men, each wielding a nasty blunt weapon.
That was what Mrs. Seymour saw at first.
Then the purple eyes appeared.
One of the thugs was punched in the head, knocking him cold before he could do anything. The other two whirled around and sprang at the figure behind them, who simply wrenched the chain out of one of their hands and used it to trip them up, before binding all three thugs with the chain and sealing it with his warp-beams.
Mrs. Seymour was at first inclined to scream as she saw the owner of the purple eyes-a tall, green-skinned thing, clad in blue garments with a purple cloak and cowl, and matching arm and leg wrappings. Then, however, she felt a sudden feeling of relief. She knew, somehow, that this creature wouldn't harm her.
"Your home is nearby, is it not?" it asked her with an alien, yet oddly comforting, voice.
She nodded.
"Then return there, and stay inside. It shall be for your own protection," Sleepwalker urged her.
She picked up her bags and made her way into the apartment complex, slamming the door behind her.
Sleepwalker nodded grimly, before he set off again into the night.
"Where the fuck are those nimrods?" Lullaby asked in disgust, waiting for her thugs. She had dispatched them to find potential victims, leaving only Rick beside her to wait by the limo.
She finally saw a tall figure emerge from the darkness ahead.
"About time you dumbasses came back!" she initially shouted, until she realized just who was coming towards her.
"Wow…you're that Sleeping guy," she said in amazement.
"What are you doing here?" Sleepwalker asked her slowly.
"The fuck is it to you?" Lullaby shot back.
"Whoever harms innocent people is my business," Sleepwalker said calmly.
"Oh yeah?" Lullaby scoffed. "Well, you can shut up and listen, and do what I say!" she sang loudly.
"And just why would I do that?" Sleepwalker demanded.
Lullaby was floored for a second.
Why the hell didn't this guy go into a trance?
"What the hell?" she said. "Why aren't you in a sleeping trance?"
"Because I do not sleep," Sleepwalker replied. "It is as simple as that."
"You don't sleep?" she asked incredulously. "What kind of person doesn't sleep?"
For a moment, Sleepwalker was about to tell Lullaby that he was not human, and that her powers could not affect him, but he soon thought better of it.
There was no telling what Lullaby would do with that kind of knowledge.
Besides, her song was oddly fascinating, in its own way.
Panicking, Lullaby was unsure of what to do.
"Ricky honey, go home and forget about all this stuff," she ordered him. "It's gonna be mighty unpleasant around here."
Rick Sheridan did exactly that, heading for the subway station and soon disappearing down the steps leading underground.
Finally, Lullaby stared at Sleepwalker, and opened her mouth.
"Run him over!" she screamed out loud.
Lullaby's limousine suddenly flared to life and charged forward with a mind of its own, heading right for Sleepwalker. The alien leapt into the air and sprung over it, flying towards Lullaby, but the thing whirled around and came for him again, until he tore a gash open in the street with his warp vision, leading the limo to become trapped and flip partway up into the air, its wheels still screeching in protest.
Lullaby cursed in fury, tearing off her cape and flinging it at Sleepwalker.
"Trap and bind him!" she sang again.
Sleepwalker easily grabbed the cape and tossed it into a dirty puddle at the side of the street, causing Lullaby to freeze in horror.
"That cape…cost six thousand dollars!" she screeched in rage.
"You were the one who threw it at me," Sleepwalker said calmly. He then spun around, wrenching one of the doors off the limousine and warping it to trap Lullaby.
"This isn't fair!" she screamed, as she began to cry. "What happened to my boys?"
"Your 'boys', as you call them, have all been bound and captured," Sleepwalker informed her. "The police will find them bound in various places around here. I saved several people from their attacks tonight, who say they will be more than willing to testify against you when the time comes. From what I have heard, many of their friends have been taken to the hospital, who will also be able to identify you."
Lullaby just sat there and screamed, crying as her make-up began to run. Sleepwalker fished around in the limousine for Lullaby's cell phone, which he used to call the police. He also found something that one of Lullaby's henchmen had brought, to use when binding victims so they couldn't fight back.
The police arrived several minutes later to find Lullaby and her henchmen all bound together in a pile, with Lullaby's mouth firmly held shut with duct tape.
Sleepwalker, meanwhile, had gone to retrieve Rick, realizing the dangers of being alone in a New York subway station at night, and flown him back to his apartment, before slapping him across the face to jolt him out of Lullaby's trance.
Some of Lullaby's henchmen had been 'awakened' the same way when Sleepwalker had hit them hard enough. They had simply fled back home, professing their innocence to Sleepwalker. The alien saw the next day, through reading the Daily Bugle through Rick's eyes, that they too were victims duped by Lullaby…and were suing her for pain and suffering caused by what she made them do under their trance.
Rick was suddenly jolted back to life as Sleepwalker slapped him. The guardian of the Mindscape quickly vanished as Rick regained consciousness. He found himself laying in his chair, his book laying on the floor. Grumbling, he moved to pick it up and resumed reading.
"Another dull, boring Friday night," he muttered. "Nothing happens on Fridays anymore."
(Next Issue: Spectra returns once more, seeking new recruits for her cause…and seeking to destroy any traitors to the cause she might find! As she instigates a riot in New York, Sleepwalker tries to stop her once again! But can either Sleepwalker or Spectra fathom the ultimate consequences of her actions? All this and more in Sleepwalker #11: City Under Siege! Guest-starring Spider-Man, Darkhawk, Daredevil and Moon Knight!)