JMJ
Chapter Four
Business in the Dark
"I still say we should find out what Mojo's doing," said Blossom looking up with her big round eyes at the Professor.
She looked so methodical with her hands folded together in her lap so lady-like and almost businesslike, but the Professor knew her meaningful expression only too well. She was worried and overtired through and through. Although part of him certainly knew that someone should probably go look into what Mojo was building and stop him before they woke to another robot rampaging through the city, what good would the girls be like this? Besides, he had lately begun to think that these three little girls were very overworked.
Bubbles and Buttercup were already pretty drowsy on either side of their sister under their covers and curling up.
"Blossom," said the Professor softly. "I…"
He was not exactly sure what to say, but he kissed her head gently. "If what you say is true, it's possible you scared him off before he finished what he was doing."
"You think?" asked Blossom doubtfully.
It felt like a lie even as a suggestion. Mojo was not daunted easily. It was possible but unlikely. The Professor sighed.
"I think mostly you need rest."
Blossom eyed Bubbles irritably. She had not liked how Bubbles had protested so vehemently about fighting Mojo.
"You need to think your best to fight your best, right?" The Professor interrupted.
Blossom looked again up looking a little guilty herself. "Right."
"You can't fight all the time," said the Professor. "No one can."
"Mojo seems to manage it," said Blossom with a pout.
"Well maybe… maybe not, but remember one thing about Mojo Jojo."
"We can always kick his butt?" asked Buttercup half-dreaming and swinging at the phantom of their archenemy.
"No," smiled the Professor stifling a laugh; then he grew somber again. "That he's insane."
Blossom gave way to her weary body at last as she lied back against her pillow and pulled her blanket up around her. Her sigh turned into a yawn despite herself.
"I guess I understand," she said. "We all need to get our rest or we'll drive ourselves crazy."
"Exactly," said the Professor. "And… I'm only sorry that when we actually have stuff planned it doesn't work out as recreational as we always hope it to be."
Blossom smiled up at the Professor now, and it was a blooming of spirits that melted the Professor's heart.
"Oh, Professor," she said. "Just knowing we have a place to live, warm beds, and good food is all we need to feel refreshed in the end cuz we have a dad like you."
The other two smiled even if half asleep, and all three of their love for him swelled in unified agreement. Whatever had not melted already turned to liquid in the Professor's chest.
"Goodnight, Blossom," he managed. "Bubbles. Buttercup."
"Goodnight," said Blossom.
"G'night," squeaked Bubbles now at last content with the world after the miserable day.
"Good zzzz…" said Buttercup.
#
Peeling from the shadows, Mojo Jojo stole across the street, but at least he was not jaywalking; he treaded the painted pedestrian lines. Now in a sharply cut shadow he was completely invisible aside from his glinting punch-colored eyes. He slipped with finesse into another shadow and then peered up at the grand edifice of what was the home of Pr. Xylum Ex.
It was not a very wide house, but it was three and half stories high with a balcony on the third storey. It was an historic home of one of Townsville's founders, an elder of the Mayor's own family no less! What a privilege to own such a home. The famous cucumber patch was maintained by the scientist on part of the yard open to the public as a small wayside park. On the annual Townsville Days in summer he even had the downstairs open as part museum, but Mojo had only business with history much more recent than that.
He might have simply knocked on the door, but he felt that a man like Xylum Ex may have ways of ridding himself of riffraff such as Mojo. An instant call to the police, perhaps? A direct call to the Mayor to give a direct call to the Powerpuff Girls would be even more likely, and even if that was not the case, he could almost picture a man like Ex having a bodyguard or housekeeper of some kind possibly robotic in nature.
So in keeping with his plan, he took to the first majestic aging oak in front of him, reuniting him with his roots in the animal kingdom. With the ease of a chimp, which he was, he swung from branch to branch easier than a cat might leap from rooftop to rooftop. Then once on the balcony, he saw that the light he had followed came from a study with desk, office chair, and rocker. Every part of the wall not already occupied with window, door, or fireplace was lined with shelves of books and curios.
The man himself was seated in profile at the desk with books, papers and writing utensils scattered about. A small glass of beer sat crookedly on the edge of its coaster but not quite precariously. Despite his lordly posture, Ex was indeed as much of a messy worker as Professor Utonium, it seemed. There were even books piled up around the chair on either side.
The faint sound of noir jazz echoed from within and did not seem to match entirely with Victorianesque scene, but it did echo nicely with the crickets, and made the meeting that Mojo was about to have feel more refined, somehow. He smiled. Straightening and feeling somewhat noir himself, and taking off his black things to reveal his usual gaudy blue and white super villain costume, he knocked politely on the balcony door. He was not without manners.
Immediately, Ex looked up in such surprise that Mojo let himself in. He was armed, he was confident, and he had the best weapon of all.
"Mojo Jojo!" said Ex, instantly reaching for his phone to dial 911.
"I would not do that if I were you, Pr. Ex," said Mojo oozing as much poise as he could. "You are going to be interested, I think, in what I have to communicate to you as I have things to tell you that you do not know that I know, but you will soon if you are smart enough to put that phone back into the position in which you found it in."
Ex paused, his eyes wide as tennis balls, and although at first it looked like he was going to call anyway. He gently put the phone down.
"Ah, good," said Mojo throwing his arms behind his back cheekily. "You are willing to take the civilized option, because if you did not take this option, I would be forced to take the less civilized and far more painful option to make you listen as I have plenty of—"
Ex pushed a button on his desk, and before Mojo could reach for any of the weapons he had planned to use, at least four score black suited assassin-type bodyguards popped out of every corner imaginable. It was difficult to say whether or not Ex had permission from the government to have such trained ninja guard him or if they were merely robotic or even created through some strange process of Chemical X. Whatever they were, their pupil-missing eyes meant business, and Mojo's eyes bulged back with some concern at the otherwise faceless visages covered in black masks and cowls.
Mojo clamped his mouth shut.
"As one of the most well-known scientists," said Pr. Ex calmly and quite simply, "I am prepared against any sort of espionage or theft of my work."
"I congratulate you," said Mojo with deep sincerity, "but I can guarantee you I did not come to steal from you. As one intellectual mastermind to another, I have come to speak business, and one such business as is quite private and dear to both of us."
"What would Mojo Jojo possible find interesting about me? My work is purely medical. It is for the benefit of mankind not the destruction of it."
"Is it?" demanded Mojo, "That's too bad, because I think we might be able to work together against a common enemy…"
"What enemy might that be?"
"Oh, you know," Mojo shrugged. "The Powerpuff Girls, Pr. Utonium…"
"Pr. Utonium is an old friend of mine and a good colleague. As for his girls, I completely support their efforts against you and others like you."
"What about their efforts against you, albeit unbeknownst them, in the business you have with certain monsters that attack the city day in and day out?"
"You must be more cracked than they say if you believe it has any connection to me," said Ex.
"Oh, I have the evidence," said Mojo. "I will share some of it with if you so desire. Then we will talk about and discuss things that I have come to meet with you about. If not then my weapons of choice, though I have many to choose from, will be to have my evidence shown to City Hall immediately via email should I receive any pain and/or violent uncooperativeness from you."
Ex's eyes narrowed. He folded his hands over his desk with a scowl worse than any principal's over the most delinquent student about to be expelled.
Mojo paused to look around him again at the assassins armed to the teeth, figurative anyway as their teeth were hidden, with an assortment of blades, guns, and darts.
"Would you mind, perhaps, calling off your um…?" He circled his fingers around.
Ex pressed his button again, and the assassins withdrew.
"They're trained to fire if any weapon comes from an intruder."
"I have no plans to use weapons if we will conduct business. I know all about your secret work with Chemical X, and that even though you made Pr. Utonium and the rest of the world believe you would not use it, that you have been using it ever since its discovery. Not just the monsters but the very, very unethical human and animal experiments as well. I'm sure the whole world would love to know all about those experiments, especially the ones you tried to get rid of…"
"Well?" demanded Ex.
"Would you like to see a sampling of the evidence which I have acquired and which I will use against you?" Mojo reached with building drama behind his back as he spoke and pulled out a USB stick.
Ex snatched it.
"Do not think that I do not have many, many copies of this information and other information," Mojo added as Ex shoved the drive into his laptop.
Mojo himself did not have to look. He simply smiled and waited patiently with one arm behind his back and the other arched under his chin so that he could examine his gloved fingers. The footage he and Com found of Com's destruction had been carefully pieced together from security cameras.
"As you can easily see, Pr. Ex," said Mojo. "An alley. Scientific devices used as weapons attacking a man, all of which are the work of Pr. Ex. Pr. Ex himself, though trying so hard to conceal himself was seen behind the stooges he had hired. He is slinking off, but it is distinctly Ex, especially with automatic image-clearing. And ah! Look! Your beast escaped, just barely after Ex left. You left, the scene of the crime, leaving green evidence behind you that you later came to clean up, but you did not find the body of you experiment, did you?
Ex took out the stick and closed the laptop. "Why did you come here?"
Mojo smiled greasily. He could see that Ex was nervous despite how he tried to look like he was still in control. In fact Mojo could smell his fear perspiring beneath his nice little coat and vest. With confidence reborn stronger than before, Mojo took a seat right upon the desk and even took a sip from the glass as he savored the moment.
"Commuting to Citiesville was too much effort with the traffic and the pollution and the rudeness. Besides, I'd probably have had to deal with waiting through some secretary before going to see the great Pr. Ex where he works. Coming to your home was much more convenient and much more private. Though, not quite as private as I had hoped."
He glanced behind him to make certain those bodyguards were gone for good.
"How do you know about me? I never would have thought—"
"That the great Mojo Jojo would look your way?" laughed Mojo Jojo. "You're too modest, Pr. Ex. Or Perhaps you mean that you do not think me smart enough to have figured it out. I have my ways, Pr. Ex. I make it my business to know my city from the bright and shimmering safe city park grounds and the ordinary, banal park goers playing fetch with their dogs and taking photos of birds to the darkest dankest sublevels of ill-will in the most foul of all back streets and sewer hideouts."
"Then what do you want, exactly, Mr. Jojo."
"'Mojo Jojo,'" Mojo insisted. "What I want from you is simple, really, just a little Chemical X. That's all."
"I cannot possibly do that," said Ex.
"Oh, I think you can if you value your secrets," said Mojo. "A little help from you getting some metal for me might be good too. I have plans, Pr. Ex, and you can be of great help to me in that capacity. You wanted to make Chemical X something to rule the world? Think of it this way, I will make that happen. All I need is your cooperation."
"What if I said that my reputation was not worth you taking over the world?"
Mojo closed his eyes, and picked up the glass again. He swirled the drink around like wine and then took another gentle sip.
"Then I would say," he said, "that you are lying, and that you care about your reputation too much for everyone to know that the miseries of Townsville are almost all upon the head of the one man who makes them proud to be the people of Townsville. I would say that you care very much about the grants that you are given to help medical science along its road to progress, by which you mean to yourself, further experiments with Chemical X. That your destruction is more than mine has ever been, and I envy you for that, but I do plan to catch up and I will really soon. I would say that if I pull out this sheet of paper to sign to our agreement with one another upon this collaboration which one might call blackmail, you will take this pen and sign, and you will be happy to do so to save your reputation from one you probably least expected. I do not say what I would say because I have already said it all, and I do not repeat myself. What do you say to that, Pr. Ex?"
Ex lowered his head. He sighed.
Mojo took up one of the many scattered pens from the desk and handed it to the exposed mad-scientist. He set the paper down, and Ex reluctantly signed, but only after having read the fine print.
"I see you are very thorough," said Ex.
"Yes, as you can see there will be no backing out and no tricks. I want the metal specified and I want it sent in neat packages to my house in boxes disguised as internet organic goods and safe office supplies. I want a fresh supply of Chemical X sent every other day packaged also very carefully in similarly disguised shipping material. Wood or cardboard is fine for the outside but inside everything must be encased in steel crates and Chemical X-safe tempered glass as is customary, and the distractions must never lead to me, but they may be of your choosing."
"How do you expect me to be a diversion without leading anyone to myself?"
"Oh, don't play stupid with me," warned Mojo with good humor; as he finished the glass he threw it over his shoulder to shatter somewhere in the room. "I am not fooled, nor will I tolerate such games of deceit from this point on. You have your resources. What about also your human experiments?"
"I no longer have those."
"They are all dead then?"
"I didn't say that."
"I wonder…" mused Mojo idly, "the chemical green of the Gangreen Gang, the chemical green of the eyes of Sedusa, the grossly oversized and grossly underdeveloped mental capacity of the molecular cretins known as the Amoeba Boys…?"
"I have absolutely no idea where the Amoeba Boys came from. You can't pin them on me!" snapped Ex.
Mojo was surprised, and he blinked blankly a moment before he smiled again.
"And here I had been only bluffing!" he chuckled. "So you really are responsible for tricking young teens into taking Chemical X without their knowing. So unethical. You'd gotten involved with Sedusa's hair even if you are not responsible for the Amoeba Boys. I can't say I blame you for disowning them if you secretly made them too and only are ashamed, as they are virtually useless against anybody, really."
"My work is not for destruction."
"So you say, so you say, Pr. Ex, but I think you and I both know that even if the human experiments were more innocent, the monsters are now meant for one purpose only. To destroy the Powerpuff Girls!"
"It's not fair!" snapped Ex. "Even you are more resilient than any of the monsters I have ever created from before those girls to now! And you're all accidents!"
"I'm flattered, Pr. Ex! But a good monster is easy enough to come by for diversions."
"Not as easy as you might think," retorted Ex.
Mojo only laughed.
"Okay, fine!" said Ex throwing up his hands. "Chemical X, metal, and the distractions you need in this one endeavor. Nothing more, nothing less."
"That is all I require from you. Thank you for your time!" said Mojo. "Please, I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. Just don't forget those packages. I will expect them tomorrow morning."
And with the document in hand, he hopped off the desk and trotted merrily out the way he had come in.
"This relationship has got off to a good start! I hope to speak with you again soon," he added before closing the door behind him. "Perhaps we can have more business over lunch the day after next to see how things are getting along! I will keep you posted otherwise. I have your email! I hope your secretary does not check them for you. You would not want people to think you were conspiring with a super villain, now would you?"
Just in case Pr. Ex did not get the picture, Mojo gave his best super villain's laugh into the night.