Loose Ends: A Mystery Men Tale
PROLOGUE: SIX MONTHS AGO - AFTERMATH AT CHEZ CASA CASANOVA
The old Roy would have, indeed, had a lot to be furious about. Although he and the Super Squad (Sphinx's term) had taken down Casanova Frankenstein and his Psycho-Frakulator, it was precisely that accomplishment which would have once brought Mr. Furious to an intense, super-powerful rage. Because now there would be no more battles to fight. But Roy, or Phoenix Dark, or Dirk Steele, or whoever Mr. Furious really was knew that with a beautiful woman at his side, he could now leave world-saving in the hands of others. He had done his share. He had summoned his boundless rage for justice one final time.
All of this played in the background of his mind. For right now, Roy merely concentrated on trying to suppress the pain. Pain from the Red Eyes battle at the nursing home, pain from Tony C.'s pistol-whipping, pain from the Disco Boy's beating, pain from Casanova Frankenstein's pinky nail, pain from the concussion of the blast that destroyed Casanova's mansion. It all caught up to him after that last, heroic battle.
Roy didn't remember Monica walking him to the car, he didn't stop to consider how she arranged to have her car brought to her (it's not as though she just stopped by Casanova's to say hello), he just stretched out in the back seat and collapsed into long-overdue rest.
***
"Where are the kids?"
"They're with Ellen."
"Your sister?"
"Yes. Let me tell you something, Mr. Shovel-Man. I'm proud of you. Very proud of you -"
Eddie smiled. He FINALLY demonstrated how important his shoveling was to his wife.
"- But I saw what they said on the news. You could have been killed, Eddie! What on earth were you thinking!?"
"Lucille, I-"
"They said that man was gonna kill everyone. Why didn't you just wait for Captain Amazing?"
"Luc -"
"I was so sacred, Eddie! What was I gonna tell the kids if you died!?" Huh?!?"
Eddie started to make a noise as if to speak, but cut himself off before Lucille did.
"I just can't believe you would do that to your family! What do we mean to you!?"
On and on it went, all the way to Ellen's apartment.
***
In a trailer park somewhere in Champion City, an old gypsy woman watched the news coverage on a beat-up black and white television. For the first time in nineteen years, she smiled. Her husband's killer was now killed. Casanova Frankenstein once employed the gypsy's husband to maintain his property. When he mowed the grounds and slipped once with the weed-eater, well...Casanova Frankenstein was never tolerant of mistakes.
A familiar face made its way onto the screen. Yes. It's him. She recognized the face of the man on whom she had placed a curse years ago. Sure, it was a harsh punishment to make a teenage boy endure, but that's the only way some people learn.
A tear rolled down her cheek. She was grateful to the man who helped avenge her husband's murder.
She left the television and began to sift through old manuscripts, searching for an ancient tome known as The Big Book of Curse Reversals.
***
Just a few short blocks from Casanova's, the Blue Raja deposited the requisite amount of change into the pay phone and dialed his house. The Bowler waited nearby to place a phone call of her own.
"Hi Mom," Jeff said pleasantly, if quietly, so as not to alert the Bowler to his change in speech. "Thanks. Thanks a lot. Well, I gotta tell you-" A quizzical look appeared on Jeff's face. "Why now? Why can't I just use my own -?" Exasperated, Jeff sighed loudly, but changed his dialect to suit his mother's wishes. "Mother, I must say, this was the most harrowing experience in all of my years, but I can honestly say that we fought the good fight, and came through well on top!" He changed dialect again, simultaneously lowering his volume. "OK Mom, I gotta go. The Bowler needs to use the phone. But -" He listened some more. "The Bowler. You saw the coverage. She's the girl in our group. OK. OK. All right," he switched accents again. "Cheerio! Ta Ta!"
Jeff hung up the phone and remained in his British accent. "Well, Bowler, that was my dear old mother. She expressed delight for our stunning victory and wishes to hold a celebratory banquet in our honor whenever it is convenient for everyone to adjoin to our home."
Bowler only heard half of the Blue Raja's comments, since she was listening to her father Carmine.
"That's nice. I'd be honored to meet your mother. I mean," she gestured to her bag, "You already know my father."
"Yes...of, course," Jeff still wasn't comfortable with the whole father thing. I mean, are we all supposed to believe that her father's soul is stuck in a bowling ball, telepathically communicating with Carol?
Jeff's thought came right about the same time Carol had a thought about Jeff: Like anybody really thinks Jeff is from India and the accent is real...God.
They smiled a pleasant smile at each other, then Carol placed her phone call.
Jeff rolled his eyes, once safely past. I suppose now she's calling her mother, reincarnated as the mayor of Belfast.
***
The Sphinx had disappeared shortly after the media arrived at the ruins of Casanova's. Mysteriously disappeared, of course. Now, he was in the basement of his mysteriously secret hideout, crafting new axioms. The battle against Casanova had taken its toll. The training, the preparation, the battle itself had all depleted his reserves of palindromic phrases.
He put pen to paper and put his terribly mysterious mind to work.
HE WHO IS NOT WELL IN BATTLE WILL NOT BATTLE WELL WITH
No. Needs some work.
HE WHO DOES NOT FEEL WELL IN BATTLE WILL NOT BATTLE WELL HIS FEELINGS
Didn't really make sense.
TEAMWORK MAKES THE TEAM WORK.
Clever, but not his style. Besides, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had heard it before.
HE WHO CANNOT FIGHT THE POWER SHOULD STAY BEHIND AND POWER THE FIGHT
Decent. The Sphinx had Dr. Heller in mind.
HE WHO CANNOT LEAD THE TEAM SHOULD FIND OTHER WORK AND DEAL THE MEAT
Hey, now, here was something. Here was a newer, more sophisticated Sphinx-type of saying. Now the words inside the phrase worked backwards!
Sphinx was puzzled. He cocked his head slightly to his left, and looked at the key words "lead" and "team". He decided to write them down and check.
LEAD = DAEL
MEAT = TAEM
Sphinx sighed. Even in death, Casanova had taken much from him.
***
The Invisible Boy sat in the passenger seat of Spleen's old, rusty hatchback. Although they weren't far from Invisible Boy's home, he used every mantra, every last bit of mental discipline to ignore the stench inside. He would have MUCH preferred to get a ride home from his parents, but they probably still had no idea that he just helped save Champion City.
"How mucsh further izh it, 'Vizh?" Spleen asked.
"Just a few more blocks. It'll be on the right," Viz replied. Viz was a pet name the Shoveler used on Invisible Boy just before the showdown with Casanova.
"Not that I mind, neshesharilly, but why couldn't your parentsh pick you up? You jusht shaved their livesh," Spleen could be a bit intrusive.
If Viz was a little hurt that his parents were not there, it didn't show. "Well, they'd be here if they had any idea what we just accomplished. They can be..." He searched for the word. "...oblivious, at times."
"I shee."
"This is it, Spleen."
Spleen brought the car to a stop in front of a house that was identical to all the others on the street. Very middle class, orderly, basic brick and wood trim homes.
"Thanks a lot, Spleen."
"No problem. Jusht trying to help."
"Hey, what are you going to do now that this is over?"
Spleen wore a dark look. "I won't relaksh, that'sh for shure. We may have defeated the ultimate evil, but there are shtill many other, lesher evilsh to be conquered."
Viz still a kid, still had a lot to learn about being a superhero. He missed the moment completely. "OK. See ya!" Viz said brightly, and turned to walk to the front door.
Spleen saluted, then drove off.
***
In Champion City's posh Upper West Side, two men were discussing strategy in a particularly lavish apartment. Both were seated at a table, but it was easy to tell one was shorter than the other.
The shorter man laid his cards on the table, figuratively. "Dante, I want you to work for me. I want you to recruit new talent. Champion City will be ours. And all of its riches will be ours. WHO IS LEFT TO OPPOSE US!?"
Dante's left ear buzzed at that last shout. He rubbed it for some quick relief. "What of Captain Amazing?"
"What of him? What of him, you say? He died in Casanova's mansion." The short man's eyes glistened as he said it.
"Impossible!"
"Well, Dante, if you're such a fan, I should perhaps look for another recruiter -"
"NO! I-I mean...what about the Super Squad, Victor? Won't they intervene? They took down Casanova, you know!"
"I know them backwards and forwards, inside and out. They were victorious only through good fortune. They had aid, which, if removed, would reduce them to a bunch of masqueraders. You probably don't know this, but I personally witnessed them in action against the Red Eyes. They were absolutely horrendous. The three of them failed where one Captain Amazing succeeded!"
Dante remembered. "...and now Captain Amazing is no longer of any concern. But, I still say the Super Squad is formidable until we dispose of those who aid them."
Victor was glowing. "Patience, Dante. First we will recruit new members to our side. Then we will gain more capital. AND THE SUPER SQUAD WILL DO IT FOR US!!"
Both of Dante's ears hurt this time.
***
Spleen was fifteen minutes from Invisible Boy's house, heading west on the freeway, when he noticed something he hadn't noticed in many, many years. Spleen had just released three powerful SBD's into the interior of his car, and he could actually smell them. He knew now, in that instant, that he was free of the curse.
But he had no time to be happy. He had no time to react in any manner. The overwhelming odor was paralyzing. His face contorted at the horrid smell, his mind no longer worked properly. Spleen reached down and frantically began to lower the window. Then he stopped. Involuntarily. The SBD's were taking their toll. Spleen could no longer control his body; it was just a matter of time before he lost consciousness.
The freeway continued ahead on a downhill slope, gradually turning left. Since Spleen was no longer controlling the car, it continued straight, cutting across lanes and colliding with the guardrail on the right-hand side. The car finally came to a complete stop after about twenty seconds.
To be sure, it was the worst possible moment to have a curse removed.