A/N: I don't know if anyone reads this with anything other than a glazed eye of sub-interest, but, I suppose, this story was more for myself anyways. Though, maybe I'm just saying that to make myself feel better. Oh well.
"I blind my eyes and try to force it all into place
I stitch them up, see not my fall from grace
I blind my eyes, I hardly feel it passing me by
I open just in time to say goodbye!"
That Was Just Your Life by Metallica
The Powerpuff Girls in:
Fierce Cup O' Reality
Chapter the Third
History Lesson
Now that the main actors have all been brought out onto the stage, revealing to everyone what they have become, it is time to take a trip back through time. No elaborate machine is necessary, nor any witchcraft or voodoo. No, our journey through this infinite chronological ocean will be taken using a far more reliable resource. Words. So I implore all of the readership to shipthemselves out aboard this humble word-train. All Aboard! ChooChoo! It was shown previously that all three of the girls had changed. Now it is time to reveal exactly why they changed. For the how is simple. Time, that great panorama we are presently chugging across like a steam-bull in a metaphorical china shop, is also the great transformer of character. Nay, how is no mystery, but why is a much more imposing question.
Here we are at the first stop; roughly one decade before we departed (if you really wanted a more exact date you would have to ask one of the Powerpuff girls). Their father, Professor Utonium, had been hired by intimidating, but altogether sincere looking government employees to create a chemical agent. This drug would be spread across Monster Island, named appropriately after the numerous lovecraftian creatures that were dwelling there, with the intended results of making all of the beasts living on said island more docile. Maybe then they wouldn't be so prone to attacking American cities. Utonium was more than delighted to preform the task. He felt that it was a way he could help keep his daughters, and his home safe. The girls had, of course, agreed with him, why should they not? For they had more firsthand experience with the battle born culture of the beasts, and had seen the potential for a more peaceful race of beings if only they were given the appropriate guidance. But could psychiatric help be expected to be received unto everymonster populating the planet? No. One-hundred Freuds would feint at such a perilous undergoing, and upon waking, would write in their dream journals about how libidinous their flights had been. Which is why the task was to be pulled off by medication, that universal solution to all of life's problems!
Utonium's time spent working on that project was some of the most fulfilling work he would ever be privy to experiencing. It was challenging, risky, and could forever change the world. Little did he know, that what would happen did forever change things, but not in the way the scientist could ever have imagined. Unless he could imagine a species wide genocide, that would be hitting the metaphorical bullseye. The day came when the subduing chemicals were to be released. Everyone was excited and hopeful, sans a few people who felt that tampering with another creature's dominant traits was a slight against God and nature (sometimes they're the same). Still, the chemicals were spread across the small island in thick streams of gray smoke by ten old crop dusting planes. Like chariots of war did these flying machines majestically lead their microscopic troops! The process took almost three hours, and it was another five hours before enough of the dust had cleared for everyone to see what had become of the creatures. Though, Professor Utonium wasn't apprehensive or even a little bit nervous while waiting. He knew that it would take months, maybe even years, before his drug showed any sort of effect, and they were going to have to spray the island down at least a dozen more times before it would become permanent, yet still he watched as everything finally settled, and still he was shocked when all of the creatures were living out their final moments in the panicked throes of death.
It didn't take long for people to realize what had happened, instead of making them friendlier the Professor's chemical had just killed all of the monsters! An entire species was eradicated, no, not just a species. Many people were unaware of this, but the monsters were as intelligent as humans, some say more so, they could speak, and they had their own culture. Well, not anymore. Time had taken them away in a inglorious instant. Time may change a person subtly, but it is ignorant to people's concept of morality, and has been seen to destroy everything with swift prejudice. Almost immediately, Professor Utonium was arrested for crimes against nature (maybe God too, but mostly the former). His daughters were willing to fight to keep him, but the Professor convinced them that it would be better for everyone if he just went along quietly. Despite his cooperation, the Professor had to be held in a high security prison for the remainder of his days, and because his children could easily break in to rescue their father, he was not allowed any visitors. The closest the girls ever got to seeing their father was through video messages, and even that only happened once a month.
Our word-train does not follow the normal rules of the railway. We need not bind ourselves to any track of limitation. We can move freely, so as to look at the Professor's peril from a different angle. From this new point of view, we see the evil going ons in a more pure state. We can now see the truly despicable part of this whole debacle. You want to know what it is? . . . You do? ! Well it would be in poor conductorly form to deny my passengers their thirst for knowledge by remaining silent! The Professor's formula, the one designed to make the monsters less aggressive, was not the one used to kill them! "How did it happen, then?" you ask. Well, the two chemicals were switched right before the planes took off, by the very same people who hired Professor Utonium. Why? Because as it turns out, some people don't care one iota about the sanctity of life. They look upon the world and see not its splendors, but its resources, and how best to take advantage of them. After they realized that controlling a monster was an impractical and messy idea, they decided to instead just wipe them out, but to do so required some perfidious cunning. To just get rid of an island of creatures, for any reason, would attract much unwanted attention from the bleeding heart liberals who encumbered the public media with their hippie peace-talk. So they set about the motions of a nefarious plan, enlisting the Professor, generating copious amounts of hype for his project, and then, on the day the harmless chemicals of the Professor's design were to be let loose on the monsters, they swapped it out for a much more insidious agent. Worse yet, arrangements were then made to make it look like Professor Utonium had planned the massive extinction from the very beginning! It was said that he held vengeful feeling towards all monsters because of all the trouble they had caused his daughters.
As mentioned earlier, we've no need of any steel bars running parallel underneath us. Nor must we abide by any chronological template. Why look at the Powerpuff Girl's transformation as one jumbled whole when we can, at our own leisure, take the time to analyze their metamorphosis individually. This way, we shall see how they are each different in their common outrage. Because just as they are different, despite being conceived at the exact same moment, from the exact same concoction, so too are they unique in the ways they handle themselves after the imprisonment of Professor Utonium.
For our next stop, let us examine Blossom. The red-head had always been a character of upstanding morals. She felt that the government was always looking out for the people. So when her father was arrested, Blossom cast aside her emotion, and thought that perhaps his arrest was warranted (there was a warrant involved, but . . . never mind). Still, being his daughter, she looked through all of the Professor's research to try and see where he had gone wrong. Being something of a genius made all of this very easy for Blossom. She ran a few tests using the chemical created by the Professor, and discovered something very unnerving. Every result from every test Blossom ran concluded the same thing. That conclusion, dear passenger, was something we have already touched upon. There was nothing wrong with the Professor's drug! It was harmless, not just to the monsters, but to all living creatures!
Still, Blossom did not think that this transgression had been taken by the anyone declaring themselves on the side of righteousness, for she had been too blinded by her own dedication to justice to even think that a good-guy could have done an act such as this. Initially, Blossom felt that it was Mojo Jojo, or perhaps another one of her family's more diabolical enemies, that had swapped the chemicals. For weeks she sleuthed among the rotted alleys where the ne'er do wells lurked just to gleam even the slightest bit of information. She dived head first into that abyss, populated by men as monstrous as the creatures so recently exiled from life. There she lived for a time. She breathed the same air as the criminals. Lived their life. Of course in order to do so she had to become a whole new person.
Removing long strips of red hair, then dying it a jet black. Perpetually wearing colored contact lenses. Completely redefining her personality. All of this was done by Blossom so that she could blend in with the other thugs who populated those dark trenches where information flowed like blood through the city's corrupt veins. She even altered the pitch of her voice whenever in the presence of these dubious people. Blossom assumed the name Helena Diabolic. It took time, almost two years, but Miss Diabolic was finally able to attain a degree of criminal fame great enough to allow entry into the most heinous of under-dwellings. For a long time, Blossom was under the assumption that Mojo Jojo, despite his newfound standing as a powerful entrepreneur, still held strong ties to the criminal underworld. She had finally learned that she was correct in that assumption.
The gang did not have a real name, as they were not the flashy sort of gang with matching colors or obvious intentions, but still, most of Townsville knew of them. When Helena Diabolic joined this corrupt group she was not outright allowed to see the monkey in charge. She was admitted as a lowly peon, and had to work her way up the ranks of villainy. This took another three years. During that time, Helena, Blossom, had to make some regrettable decisions, and preform more than a few despicable deeds. Maybe during her time dwelt in the dark, as she stared at the abyss, as the abyss stared back at her, maybe it was here where Blossom's mind began to fragment away from her noble upbringing, and make her question every idea she was raised on. When Helena was finally deemed worthy enough to meet with Mojo Jojo a conversation took place that went much like this. Remember, this is only a possible conversation, not a absolute.
HelenaDiabolicstandsinthecenterofalarge,circularroom.Itisverycleanandshineswithnewmetal.Everythingiswellpolished.Oppositethelargedoorwayisachromedesk,sittingbehinditisMojoJojo.
Mojo: So, you are Miss Diabolic? My most trustworthy of lieutenants have assured me that your loyalty is unshakable, and that you are prepared to do whatever is necessary to further our cause.
HelenaDiabolic: I am. And let me say how much I have been looking forward to meeting with you. Though I confess, there is little I know in regards to this "cause."
Mojo: Look upon my empire! I deal in only two things, yet these two things have granted me power that cannot be rivaled! Weapons, the base of my fortune, and information, that silent assassin whom I can eternally rely on. One day I shall cast aside all of my weapons, as they will have become useless, and information will become both my sword and my shield. I will become the only hub for knowledge in the world! Everything anyone knows will be a result of my will! When that day arrives . . .
Helena: So, is that your plan then? To amass enough information so that you control everything?
Mojo: Ha! No, nothing so subtle. What I have just told you is a plan for the future. A future where I will require the assistance of none but myself.
Helena: Then why did you tell me about it?
Mojo: I did not tell you out of a sense of arrogance. I just wanted you to understand exactly who it is you are dealing with. I am unlike any of the ignorant felons and miscreants you have previously dealt with. Unlike myself, even, from all those years ago when I thought I could be so bold with my villainy. I already control everything coming and going through this city. You could even say that I amthe city, if you cared for such a dramatic flare . . . which I imagine you do not. Nothing goes on in this city without my allowing it. (HewalkstowardshispanoramicwindowthatlurksovertheTownsvilleskyline,andgazesoutuponthecity.)
Helena: Oh, I'm sure there are a few things you are unaware of. I have a few secrets you might find surprising. (HelenamovesclosertoMojo,butstillremainsbehindhim.Alookofsinisterintentconsumesherface.)
Mojo: You really believe that! It is reasons like these that make this encounter so refreshing! Too long has it been since I have had someone stand up straight before me, and meet my eyes with their own! How unfortunate it is that I have to end this meeting so abruptly, (MojoturnsandfacesHelena,) Blossom.
Blossom: How long have you known? (Blossomlooksmoredisappointedthanshocked.)
Mojo: I already told you, there is nothing going on in this city that I don't already know about. And really, HelenaDiabolic?It sounds like something Sedusa would use as a pen name.
Blossom: Hey! It took me a long time to come up with that name!
Mojo: Did it? ! Wow, I must have exaggerated when I said that you were my most cunning enemy! Hahaha! It's a terrible name!
Blossom: Is it really that bad?
Mojo: Like, if a genocide could be a persons name.
Blossom: And you wonder why I hate you.
Mojo: No. I know why you hate me. I also know, however, that I am not the one to whom you should be directing your abhorrent attention.
Blossom: What do you mean?
Mojo: You think I am to blame for your father's incarceration.
Blossom: Aren't you?
Mojo: No, little girl, I most certainly am not. Why would I cast aside the man who is called father by the both of us? Scientifically he was my equal. I respected him. Many are the days in which I wonder if there was more I could have done for him.
Blossom: What do you mean?
Mojo: It is thanks only to my intervention that our father still lives. Still, had I only pressed my influence harder against the rash decisiveness of my contemporaries then maybe the Professor would have remained a free man. . . But why regret the unalterable past when there is a undiscovered future before us.
Blossom: If what you say is true, then you must know the one who is responsible for my father's imprisonment! (Blossomdropstoherknees) I beg you! I must learn who did this so that I may carry out justice!
Mojo: Get off your knees, girl! (Mojo pullsBlossomtoherfeet) You debase your's and your father's name with such actions! As for the revenge you so hunger for. I can tell you who is responsible, but there is little either of us can do at this juncture.
Blossom: Little you can do! You sit here in your steel tower, a king of cowards! I would think that I have already proven to you just how far I am willing to take myself down this dark path!
Mojo: You may speak the truth. Were you any lesser person I would not have let that insult go unpunished.
Blossom: Any lesser person would not have said what I did.
Mojo: Indeed. Are you prepared to learn the true nature of your father's current predicament? Before you answer know that what I am about to say may sound so preposterous that you will try to will yourself into denying it. Are you ready?
Blossom: A thousand times, yes! Tell me their names so that they may quake in their beds, fearful of the night I come for them!
Mojo: Lay the blame on the ones who hired the Professor, for they hold all of it.
Blossom: . . . You mean . . .
Mojo: Yes . . . (Foramomentaperfectsilencelaysclaimtotheroom) Now leave me, this conversation has made me contrite. (Blossommovestowardsthedoor,butsuddenlystopsasrealizationdrawsuponherface.)
Blossom: Wait! You still haven't told me about your plan!
Mojo: And I never shall! You think me ignorant enough to just reveal my plans to my enemies? I arranged this meeting so I could give you the information you desired. Not so you could once again encumber my future.
Blossom: I may have done some bad things to get here, but I still know evil when I see it! If you think I'll just let whatever plan you're hatching go unnoticed because of what you told me, you're wrong! You may be clean to the rest of the world, but I know what it is you do in secret.
Mojo: Yes, you know, but the moment you make moves to bring that knowledge to light is the same moment I reveal just how dirty you've become these last few years. How long do you think your campaign against me could last if your recent actions were brought under public scrutiny? No, I don't think you could fight me as a villain while I was called hero. So I say again, be gone.
Blossom: I'll still fight you. Even if it's by myself, I'll fight you any way I can! (Blossomfliesthroughtheglasswindowoverlookingthecity)
Mojo: I would expect nothing less from a you.
It would seem that Blossom was never able to shake off all of the darkness that attached to her during that time. It was here also that she began her political fight against Mojo Jojo and his multinational corporation. She could never attack the monkey head on for fear of retribution, so she chose the peaceful protest route.
Next on our journey is the boisterous and rough Buttercup. When the Professor left physically, and Blossom left spiritually, Buttercup was left in a unstimulated snare. Her father, the protector and advisor was gone. Her sister, the lone authority figure with actual authority was gone as well. For a short while, Buttercup was able to vent her energy on the lowlife scum polluting the streets. But one night the hero went too far when she beat a robber into a coma. Turns out he was just stealing bread to feed his homeless family. After that, the girls were banned from crime-fighting. With no outlet, Buttercup's frustration shot in every direction. She was angry! At everything! Nothing made sense for her anymore. For the first time in her life she had no direction to push towards. And suddenly, probably when she realized that the meaning in her life had been ripped away with no hope of returning, Buttercup stopped caring. About everything.
No longer was there a separation between day and there was, Buttercup certainly couldn't tell. Not when she spent such long stretches of time locked away in her bedroom. To her there was only the bed, adorned with a perfectly chaotic mess of blankets, which she often hid under.
"Why would Buttercup, so strong in all things, be found hiding underneath the soft layers of cotton and linen like some craven child?" you ask. Which is a question with logical foundations for there has never been a time when the hero was found wanting courage. At least before the Professor's disappearance.
It was not fear of pain or assault that scared Buttercup so. It was a fear of inadequacy. She had already failed to keep her father from being taken away, perhaps she thought that poor Bubbles would be next.
"Better it would be to just remove myself from the world, and let the planet spin uninterrupted by dreary Buttercup, than to be a part of it, and risk hurting the remains of my family," that was her new motto.
Eventually, Buttercup grew tired of being tired, and so, left her bedroom during the night's darkest hours, and ventured with unknown destinations in mind. It was by the park, ironically only a block away from the police station, when an urchin slipped out of an alleyway, and confronted Buttercup. They had a brief conversation, not even Buttercup can recall what was said, but after the man returned to his dark catacomb, she turned towards her home twenty dollars poorer, but holding a small bag containing a most dubious doobie.
She hid out in the garage, where she lit up the foul joint (an odd side note, joint is the name given to something that allows for flexible movement in an otherwise rigid device, whereas in this scenario it is used in reference to something that would break if bent, food for thought). Foul it smelled, and foul it tasted, but Buttercup still fell prey to it's whimsical charm. It made her feel heavier in the body, yet lighter in the mind. She still cared little for the world around her, but the high made her no longer care that she did not care. It was as though she had just unlearned what she had learned, or made sense of an unsolvable puzzle. She felt good for the first time in a long time.
Thus it became a commonplace thing. Buttercup would go out, purchase some reefer, and burn until the moon glowed like her pipe. Sly Buttercup took little time to cut the middle man out, and grow her own weed. She became a regular farmer, and hydroponics expert. Were her actions not sprouted from questionable roots (get it?), Buttercup's new talent with plants would be a perfectly healthy hobby, or even occupation. But overlooking the drugs would be like overlooking the death of king Hamlet, that is to say, ignoring the motivation behind the action. Eventually there was too much maryjane for Buttercup to handle on her own, so she made like any good capitalist, and expanded her target consumer base. Buttercup grew pot for herself, and then sold the leftovers to the streets of Townsville.
It was no secret. Most people knew that Buttercup sold cannabis, her family included sans the Professor. The police, however, did little to stop her obvious dealings. The main reason being that they could not stop Buttercup even if they wanted to, but also because she was remarkably benevolent (as far as drug dealers go) with the way she conducted her operation. She laid claim to no territory like other gangs, she just wandered about selling her wares. Never did she sell to children, though, she damn near checked IDs.
That is how Buttercup had been making a living for many a year now. And with both sisters engaging in felonious activities, innocent Bubbles was left to fend for herself in a world of wolves. We have seen where that has led her. As for the reasons why, well. . . Know that she does so not because of some inert exhibitionist attitude, but because of love. . . No, not that kind of love! She was now the only member of her family to work for a legitimate business, albeit a dirty one, and the money was badly needed.
Let us keep chugging along. There are more characters who yet need representation, after all. Some have already been mentioned, like Mojo Jojo, the perfidious, and layered monkey who now operates high atop a shimmering tower, as opposed to before when he lived above a volcanic mountain. This seemingly simple simian reorganized his priorities, letting go of his unnatural lust for global domination, and investing his time into more lucrative options. We speak of course of his multinational corporation. Jo-Tech it is called, and it holds more military defense contracts than any other company. They produce the fastest planes, the toughest tanks, and rifles that don't get gummed up when it's too humid outside. This quickly elevated the monkey up among the world, and now he held considerable sway over much of the country.
Who next to discuss but Him. That devilish demon filled much of his time with tormenting our little saviors. But once the Powerpuff Girls were banned from saving the day, Him decided to get a new hobbie. Something . . . darker. For the sake of decency that darker something shan't be discussed lest you wish to void your contents in a most inglorious fashion, after which all nearby parties will make haste to laugh at your predicament.
Fuzzy Lumpkins was now a rug adorning the floor of some burly hunter's cabin.
The gangrene gang no longer consorted with one another, not after Ace was shot to death by an angry grocer he had tried to rob. Now they all had jobs, or had moved away to more promising cities. Lil' Arturo is now a social worker.
Princess seems to be doing fairly well for herself. Though, she has become lackadaisical in her physical upkeep. She now weighs close to three hundred pounds, and can only be moved about by a convenient floating chair that contains a snack bar stocked to full with beef jerky, and diet cola. Aside from that, Princess now runs her fathers large company, and as such, is worth a considerable amount of money. To this day she hates the Powerpuff Girls, but now has other things to occupy her time.
The amoeba boys finally combined into one larger three celled organism. Now he/they spend most of his/their time listening to goth metal, and writing poetry.
Sedusa writes romance novels under the pen name Hera Diabolic, and lives in Seattle.
The Rowdyruff Boys had disappeared even before the Professor's sudden incarceration. Rumor has it, however, that the boys have recently been seen in Townsville, lurking about.
Perhaps there are one or two or even three of you who can't help but wonder about the story of Jorden Søvn. What can be said about a giant rock flying through space? Trust your humble narrator when it is said that there is not much to know. Except, however, that in time it will come close to the Earth. Yes, is will come very close indeed.
Final stop, tickets please, and don't forget your luggage. I hope you have enjoyed your ride on this here word-train. If you by chance you did not enjoy our trip then hold fast to the knowledge that when next we meet up it will be in a setting far more familiar to everyone. And also, fuck you, Mr Attitude.
A/N: I hope this clarified any questions readers (if they're there) had about the story. If not then you could try messaging me.
See you next week, but you probably won't see me.
