Case 2: A Royal Nuisance
"So, how long is he going to be staying here?" Mobius wondered aloud, trying to keep his distance from the gigantic snake winding his way throughout the rooms of the Null-Time Zone.
"Jörmungandr's my pet again." Loki responded. "I'm going to turn one of these areas into a nice jungle for him to play in, though you don't have to visit him if he still terrifies you. Sylvie and I are both very fond of him."
"You would be, 'Mr. Ouroboros.' 'A snake biting the tip of its tail in a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth,' you said. Isn't that just like the Loki cycle that He Who Remains and his TVA trapped you in for so long, the very cycle you've been working so hard to free yourself from? Seems like a bit of a paradoxical nickname, if you ask me!"
"Well then, let's hear you come up with something more fitting, 'Mr. Paradox!'" Loki retorted. "You've got plenty of time to think of something: we're not exactly flooded with cases."
"Yeah yeah, I know. The Denmark case was, what, 3 months ago? Or does it just seem like that? Time works so differently here, and the only calls we've gotten since are prank callers, and oddly enough, all by different people."
"Yes, I know. Remember that last one? 'Hello, you're the Time Detectives? My mother-in-law just had me watch 'The Time Traveler's Wife' with her. She's just stolen and wasted two hours of my time, and I'd like to see some timely justice!' Ehehe, quite a bit more clever than the last few, I'll admit. It helped relieve some of the boredom, at least!"
"Glad you're finding amusement." Mobius leaned back into his desk chair, stretching his hands behind his head. "How about another lesson in apprehending criminals; obviously we'll be facing ones more dangerous than 13-year-old human girls!"
"You want me to teach you to defend yourself? I was taught to fight on Asgard as a child, by my mother, as you know, so you might have a harder time grasping our fighting style. We have a certain gracefulness about us that is vital to performing the movements, daggers stabbing and gliding through the air in a glorious ballet of battle!"
"Actually, I was thinking of a lesson for you, Loki: a less violent, much less bloody lesson. For example, say we're about to catch a really aggressive and dangerous criminal, especially one that's too powerful for their planet's police force to detain! In that case, you might have to, well, cuff 'em yourself. Do you know how to frisk someone?"
Loki winced. "I beg your pardon?"
"Do you know how to frisk: how to pat someone down?"
Loki's wince turned into a weird grimace, even more confused than the first time he was asked.
"Not-" Mobius sighed. "Just- pretend you're the criminal. Pretend I just caught you, and you're surrendering. Raise your hands above your head." Loki raised his hands as Mobius continued his demonstration. "Now you pat the suspect's clothing around where their pockets are to make sure they aren't concealing weapons." Mobius explained as he patted Loki's clothing. "I'm sure you'd know exa-"
"Ehehehehehehehehey! Stop! S-s-s-s-stop it!"
The former TVA agent was unexpectedly interrupted by giggling, just as the frisking reached the sides of Loki's torso.
Mobius paused for a moment. "Oh boy. Hang in there, Loki, not trying to tickle you here. So sensitive!" Loki giggled even louder while Mobius continued his weapon search, becoming increasingly annoyed, yet he couldn't help but smile after seeing the once brooding Loki laugh so lightheartedly. "Loki! I'm trying to teach you an important skill; you're the one who wanted to be a detective! Pay attention!"
"I-ehehe, I AM paying attention, Mobius!" Loki countered, swatting Mobius's hands away in an upward direction. "Step one, raise the criminal's hands above his head. Step two, feel the clothing around pockets for concealed weaponry." He mimicked his friend's previous patting motions around his jacket.
Mobius nodded. "Alright, very good, you've got it down-"
"But some criminals can be tricky: only an amateur would hide all their weapons in their pockets. For example, they could have them stashed up their sleeves, or even in their shoes." As Loki checked his partner's shoes, he heard Mobius start to laugh. "Ah. Step three, subduing ticklish crooks. Now, we haven't gone over this one, but I'm a rather quick learner, if I may say so myself!" Loki said, removing Mobius's shoes and socks and tickling his feet, now that he'd found his serious friend's weak spot.
"Hehehahahahaha, okay Loki-i, okay! I s-s-surrender!" Mobius gasped.
"See, that was quick, wasn't it?" The mischievous midnight relented and uncuffed Mobius's hands.
"Okay, you've gotten revenge, but… no one… in their right mind is gonna hide a weapon… in their shoes." Mobius explained as he caught his breath.
"Says the man who's never had to hide a weapon from the law. Besides, where's the fun in only going after criminals who are in their right mind? Now, are there any other ridiculous arresting procedures you'd like me to make less tedious?"
"Well… you could read them their rights: the right to remain silent, the whole spiel." Mobius sat back down in his chair. "And that's about iIT!" The analyst shrieked out as Jörmungandr's monstrous tongue flicked at his still bare feet. "LOKIIIII!" He yelped through hysterical laughter as the great serpent joined in on their fun.
Loki snickered. "I think Jörmungandr's starting to grow on you, Mobius. Alright, he's had enough; stop now!"
Jörmungandr reluctantly turned and slithered over to Loki, who stroked his pet snake's chin as the phone finally rang.
"Heh, no thanks; you can have Sir Hiss there all to yourself." Mobius put his socks and shoes back on and walked over to the enhanced phone. "It looks like we've got a case to solve at last!" Mobius spoke to the man on the other end as Loki told his scaly friend they'd be leaving for work soon. "Alright, we've got an attempted murder case on our hands!" Mobius announced. "This should be a bit nostalgic for you, Loki: we're going to a palace!"
"Do I know our client or the royal family there?" Loki wondered as he stepped through the time door.
"Not… yet. Some of your variants do, in the future. Let's head out!"
The detective duo simultaneously grimaced as they stepped onto the planet that held their next assignment. The whole place reeked of dead bodies, heaps upon heaps of garbage, and who knows (or wants to know) what else!
"You know, when you said our next client would be meeting us in a palace, I expected the outside to be a lot cleaner." Loki involuntarily took another whiff. "And judging from the smell, I presume the killer has murdered everyone on the planet already."
"Unfortunately, no: it's always like this. The planet's called Sakaar, and it's run by a real whackadoo." Mobius explained in a nasally voice, with his fingers firmly pinching his nose. "But let's not talk out here and breathe in any more of this garbage air than we need to!"
They quickly walked to the palace, hoping the planet's ruler would have some breathable atmosphere for them inside. As they entered the clean throne room, they were relieved that hope came true.
"There's our client, in the blue and white chair." Mobius told Loki.
"Hey, you must be the detectives I hired!" The gray-haired man in a long gold robe greeted them and subsequently turned to his muscled armored bodyguard. "See that, Topaz? I figured out who they are using the power of deduction! They must be so impressed!"
"Hello, you are correct." Loki greeted in return. "We are the Time Detectives; I'm Mr. Ouroboros, pleasure to meet you."
"Ooh, aren't you the polite one, Mr… Oroborob… Oborobo… Obababababa… Topaz, what'd he say that name was?"
"Aurora borealis."
"Mr. Aurora Borealis!" The elder in the chair grinned in momentary triumph, but in a few seconds he scrunched his eyebrows. "No, that doesn't sound right. Are you sure?"
"That's what I heard."
"Oh-roh-boh-rus." Loki enunciated slowly. "I can say it with you, if you'd like."
"Oh, like a sing-a-long, but with speaking!" The eccentric man in the blue chair excitedly clapped, then suddenly stopped. "But nope, there's a murder plot going on, so I don't have the time for that right now. I'm just gonna call you Boris for short, m'kay?"
Loki's eyes drifted blankly to Mobius, who silently mouthed the word "whackadoo" and swirled his finger around the side of his head.
"I am the Grandmaster, the ruler of Sakaar and host to the Contest of Champions." The Grandmaster faced Mobius. "And what's your secret agent nickname?"
"Oh, I'm, uh, Mr. Paradox."
"Paradox, paradox… paaaaaaradoxxx . . . yeeaaaahhh, I'm gonna call you MustacheMan!"
Mobius nodded. "Fair enough."