It is late in the afternoon at the mall.
Work crews are still attempting to mop up the glass and debris and chaos from the sight of Bard's fateful scuffle with Mad Mod's 'royal' android.
There are a few investigators poking around at the site, taking photographs, and talking to eyewitnesses.
A couple of spaces away stands Bard. And Bard is not alone. The Titans stand presently at his side. Well, most of them: Cyborg, Beast Boy, Terra.. ….
…. …and myself.
"Shucks, I almost thought Chang was the only foo who broke out of the penitentiary," the android Titan rubs the human half of his head with a sigh. "Just figures we'd be up to our armpits in Mad Mod's stained teeth this soon."
"Just what was his deal, anyways?" Terra remarks with a face. She glances around with goggled eyes and spots the scores of people looking at them from the sidelines of the wrecked scene. It makes her shudder slightly. "I-I thought British p-people were just about as r-respectable as anyone else!"
"Mad Mod isn't British," Beast Boy mutters. "He's falling with style."
"He's an inch away from getting his Little Isles nailed to the door of a woodshed, that's what!" Bard grumbles as he brushes at the damaging scrapes to his costume. "Awww shucks. I walk into Town in the daylight once. JUST ONCE.. …and what does it get me? Tarnation City!"
"It's okay, cowboy," Cyborg winks with a smile. "Everyone knows you weren't purposefully causing trouble… … …this time…."
"Dude, tell that to the guys who built the skylight," Beast Boy gestures with a thumb. "Eh he he he he he!"
Bard growls: "How 'bout you turn into a pony so I can show you what horseshoes feel like?"
"AHEM… …Sh-Shuttingupnow."
Terra giggles.
I walk over to Bard. I gesture to him.
"MMmmmm….reckon I got my threads a heap more dirty than I was fixin' for," my westernly friend sighs. "If my Momma was here, she'd give me a smacking something terrible!"
"Oh mah gawwwwd! You poor, special thiiiing!" A rotund sales clerk in cowboy chaps waddles over from a smashed clothing store. "Thank you so much for saving me, but—Good heavens! That rebel-rouser sure as heck busted you up, didn't he? Tskk tskk. What a bad, bad man."
Beast Boy does a double-take. He mouths: 'Rebel-rouser'?"
Bard shrugs. He jolts as the man grabs him 'gently' by the arm. "You just come with me, mister! I'll have you fixed up in a jiffy!"
Terra snorts on something.
"Erm….," Bard sweatdrops. "Wh-Wh-What do you mean, 'fixed up'?"
"Why, I'll make you a new costume! It'll be on the house for doin' so nicely as to protect me from that robot freak earlier."
"B-B-But I thought I-I smashed up your place and—"
"Hehehehe…," the fat man winks. "You can bust through my window annnnnnytiiiiiime. The name's Jenny, by the way."
"Eh heh, thanks---NOIRRY! Get over here right now and do something murky-cool n'junk and get me out of here!"
I waved him off.
"Nnnnngh! You little runt! DAH! Hey, not so rough---"
"Hehehehehe," Terra giggles insanely. "Ohhhhhhhh, Bard. Welcome to the Big City."
"Emphasis on 'big'," Beast Boy sweatdrops. "Who's that 'Jenny' person anyways? Bard's stunt double?"
"Yeah, if he gained two hundred pounds," Terra says. She blinks. "And….A-And visits Key West."
"Cy, I'm going crazy. Where the heck are Robin and the others?"
"Not sure what Robin's up to," Cyborg shrugs. "Some sort of researching or something-or-rather."
"It's not like him to miss an investigation like this," Terra blinks. "For all we know, this Mad Mod person may have a terrible vendetta out against the beauty pageant!"
"You think?" Beast Boy gestures. "Though, God knows why."
Cyborg folds his arms and makes an ugly face. "The English Dude is always trying to mess up all sorts of artistic stuff here in Jump City, under the excuse of 'Britainizing it'….or whatever. Personally, I hate the Sixties."
"I like the seventies, myself," Beast Boy raises a hand with smirk.
"Hehe," Terra curtsies. "Fifties." She looks over. "Noir?"
I bite my lip….
"ANYWAYS," Cyborg frowns and gathers all our attention. "While Robin's off doing whatever, Raven's back at the Tower trying to 'rest up' from this morning. Starfire has gone out for a flight or something. Static X is making a phone call to his gang back in Dakota. That leaves us to try and work with the law enforcement here and figure out exactly what happ—Oh, speak of the devil."
We all turn to see….
….Detective Decker is walking up. He pockets away a phone and looks at us with a deadpan half-glare. "Well, Mod's back. And we at the Department couldn't be more pleasantly pissed. I just got done talking to the Mayor on the phone…" The detective casually lights a cigarette and continues speaking. "He ain't happy with this. Turns out this Jump City Pageant crap is really damn important to the continued structural society of our neighborhood. Pfft…Whatever. Anyways, Suzette would love to see you Titans conjure up a way to—"
"Sir?" A security guard waltzes up.
"H-Huh?" Decker looks over.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put out that cigarette."
"Oh really?"
"If you smoke, I'll have to write you up."
Decker shrugs. "Well, I spent the last two weeks putting two rapists, an arsonists, and a downtown park flasher into jail. So I guess it wouldn't hurt to balance things out, wouldn't it?"
The security guard blinks blankly at that.
Decker turns back to us. "Anywho. The mayor figures—'Hey, they're Titans. They've battled this London screwball with puss-for-teeth before. Let 'em handle it'! Of course… …heh… …I can't say all of that with the Mayor's usual faggoty, French accent. But you catch my drift, vrai?"
"Uhhh…Vrai," Beast Boy nods.
"Good. Now while the rest of us here without superpowers wrack our brains and stress every second of the waking day figuring out how in the Blue Hell to protect the most publicized mid-pubescent tart-show on the West Coast with top-grade security, I want YOU TITANS.. ….to lend a hand or sword or tentacle or whatever in figuring out how to out-smart this Mad Mod moron. That's the least I can ask of you guys, right?" He flicks the cigarette into a palm tree and squints at us. "Say, where's the bird?"
"Who, Raven?"
"No, the loud one."
"… … … … …Static?"
"He means Robin you silly!" Terra hisses at Beast Boy, then smiles pleasantly at the Detective. "He's.. ….doing his homework."
"Ah… …well, as long you have at least the second best crew on the watch, fine by me," Decker glances aside at me, pauses, and points: "Just make sure jailbait here doesn't lead the charge. I've had enough murder to deal with in my career."
My jaw drops. I fume and grit my teeth at him.
Dang it, you….
Stupid head!
"At ease, Noir," Cyborg waves. He nods at the Detective. "We'll do the best that we can, Walker."
"It's 'DECKER', dammit!"
Cyborg winces. "Erm….s-sorry…."
"YEESH!" Decker tosses his arms up and walks off in a huff. "Why do young kids these days ALWAYS DO THAT!"
Riiing-Riiing!
"Snkkkt" Click. "—Hello, Walker here—Dammit—I MEAN 'DECKER'! DAMN! Hold on, Warden, I'm getting some interference…. …."
And he's gone.
"So… … …," Beast Boy glances our way. "Any bright ideas?"
I hand-sign. I gesture. I charade. I hand-sign some more. I perform a salute, finish, then smile.
"…. …. …."
"… …. ….."
"… … .. …."
The Titans stare at me blankly.
"…. … .. ….somebody get Bard back here."
I sweatdrop—
"I think if we come up with a plan—ANY plan at all, it'll be up to us five."
"Well that stinks," Beast Boy folds his arms. "Robin and Static are half of the brains these days."
"HEY! I'm pretty dang smart too, little man!"
"No, you're nerdy. Being smart is a side effect."
Cyborg holds a finger up… …pauses… …and lowers it with an exhale. "I'm gonna have to give ya that one."
"Well, you guys wanna hear me out or somethin'?" Terra chirps. "What if—like—we somehow found a way to situate ourselves INSIDE the pageant? I mean, if we got some sort of inside perspective on the goings-ons so that the soonest Mad Mod tried to pull something, we could radio in to the rest of the team? Just…we need to find some way to actually BE AT the PAGEANT. As if, one of us was here. Hiding. But—not, like, conspicuously. But in some way that nobody would expect nothing of it and….a-and then we could….erm…….," Terra bites her lip. "… ….wh-why is everyone l-lookin' at me like this?"
Beast Boy is staring lovingly at Terra.
Cyborg is rubbing his chin.
I squint my black eyes.. …study Terra… ….and smirk.
"Ya know… … …I've heard ya sing a few times, Terra," Cyborg points. "You ain't half bad when it comes to a pretty ballad."
Terra squints her eyes at him. "… …yeah?"
"And you've got a smile to die for," Beast Boy adds. "Not to mention you fill someone with butterflies to so much as listen to—"
"See her hair? Easy manageable."
"And with some heels, she just might be tall enough to be in the camera shot."
"What's the Pageant in now, Beast Boy? The Finals?"
"Yeah, they conclude in a couple of days."
"With this Mad Mod issue, a few dropouts can be expected. You think the Pageant will be looking for new, last-minute entries?"
"Ohhhhhhhhhh yeah….," Beast Boy winks.
Cyborg winks.
I wink.
Terra looks at us all. Then she gets it. She gasps and scoots backwards, wringing her gloved hands. "Ohhhhhh no. Ohhhhh no no no no no….," Terra bites her lip. "I…I-I can't! I won't!"
"You'd get to ride around in a limoooooo!" Cyborg coos.
"And I know they'd fit you with prettiest gown," Beast Boy nudges her.
"Knock it off!" She frowns and shoves him. "I ain't doing that! And it's final!"
"Terra, people's lives may be at stake."
"This is Mad Mod we're talking about. Not the brightest apple in the bunch—but still needs to be taught a lesson."
"I….erm….. …w-well.. …," Terra looks down at a spot in the floor. She wrings her hands more. She blushes and looks up with a hidden smile. "R-Really? A pretty dress?"
"Heh heh heh.. ….Cy! We're on a mission!"
