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Worst Case Scenario: "The Permanent Solution"
by Magpie -- Prelude | Act One | Act Two | Act Three | Act Four | Act Five | Act Six Prelude: Waiting in Line Victoria Wainwright was the third generation of her family to pilot "The Titan", the first having been her great grandfather back in 1920, when Supermegatopia was just the small port town of Utopia. The Golden Age's first superhero, he discovered a mysterious alien amulet in the wreckage of a crashed vessel. Dr. Richard Wainwright soon discovered it's amazing powers. Encasing its wielder in an invincible armored shell, it granted them unprecedented super strength even by todays standards. Calling himself The Titan, he was Utopia's first and greatest champion, until his retirement in 1952. No one NOTICED his retirement however, because his son, Davitch took up the mantel of The Titan. Utopia had grown sizably in the time since the Doctor had first put on the suit, it's crime rate, the power, and number of it's villians increasing exponentially... This was the beginnings of Distopia. But the Titan continued to reign supreme, battling crime where ever he found it, fighting for "Justice, Truth, and Patriotism" as his father had... Inexplicably, he announced his retirement in 1976, just after finally defeating the last of the Discoland Gang in a smashing battle against Baron Von Beegees. He passed into obscurity, the rampant crime putting a strangle hold on the city until the avant garde' efforts of Ferret Man. Nothing more was heard of Davitch Wainwright until his death the previous year... And it was then that Victoria came into possession of the amulet, and had done what anyone in her position would do now of days. She wrote a book about it (or rather had one ghost written), and began touring as the new Titan. And it is during this book signing tour that the story begins, outside a large book retail outlet in the middle of the teaming metropolis, Supermegatopia. +++ Dr. Bleu Belle had arrived for the book signing an hour early, but still found a sizable line waiting to get their copy of "The Titan: A legacy of heroism" signed. With a sigh, she dug about in her heavy canvas bag as she took her place in line. Looking ahead of her in line she could see a number of superheroes were mixed in amongst the pedestrians. No surprise, actually there seemed to be more heroes then pedestrians... Bleu rubbed her head, trying not to laugh. She was one of the only people in her apartment building who WASN'T a superhero. It had been a growth industry back when the Titan first hit... but now? Ferret man was such a hard act to follow, who could replace him? Besides which, there were just so many of them. Well, heck she had more important things to do with her time... she was a revolutionary in a secret war everyone participated in without realizing it. The benefit to being a revolutionary, and NOT a superhero was she got to dress as she liked. No tights for this cow-girl, no sir! Leave that to the crazy city folk. ... well most of them. Bleu'd had the pleasure of meeting Buck Naked a few months previous. While Belle thought lycra was in poor fashion, she wasn't sure she was any more in favor of nudism. (Though that hadn't stopped her from asking for Buck's autograph...) She'd been living in Supermegatopia for almost six years now, and still didn't consider herself a resident. Musing still as she finally located the object of her desire deep inside her bag, she removed the family sized candy bar from the depths of her purse, like unearthing a treasure from thousands of leagues beneath the sea. While Bleu sported a slim, athletic figure, it was misleading. She WAS after all a cow girl, and she found herself grazing constantly without ever really thinking about it.. Munching thoughtfully on her "KING KONG SIZE CHOCO BAR", Bleu began tapping her foot on the street impatiently. She hated waiting in line. Mostly because it never failed, every time she did, some weirdo would try to strike up a conversation with her. It had gotten to the point she could set her watch to them. "Hey!" Her ears twitched at the voice behind her, and she peeked over her shoulder, mooing curiously, the uneaten quarter of her choco-bar hanging from her lips as if trying to escape. The first thought to occur to her was "He's cute... " The second was, "He's too young for you..." The third was that, "I have chocolate on my face don't I?" Wiping off her face, Bleu gulped down the candy so quickly she began choking. After smacking herself on the back a few times to dislodge the chocolate from her throat, she blinked curiously at the bird boy once she had composed herself. A parrot, he looked like he was just out of high school. His wild black and green feathers were poorly tended giving him the impression of being a bachelor, "Oh... sorry. You're not who I thought you were!" "Who'd you think I was?" Bleu frowned at the young man, taking the time to note while he was cute, he had absolutely no eye for fashion, dressing in all black. Lots of snaps and zippers decorated his jumpsuit, like numerous grinning little teeth. It wasn't a bad look to be honest, it just didn't fit the wide-eyed, nice looking parrot boy. But frankly, she was a very recognizable cow. Lithe and athletic in form, she was short, slim, and possessed of delicate features. In short, she was mistaken for veal on numerous occasions, the bartenders always requesting she show them her id. "Never mind. You looked like Dr. Belle from behind." The shy green boy explained with a short laugh, rubbing the back of his head nervously, "This isn't a pick up, really! I just thought y..." "I know..." Bleu interrupted, feeling a bit paranoid suddenly. She was sure she hadn't met the boy, his distinctive black and green plumage was something she was sure she'd remember, but... "I AM Dr. Belle, actually." Bleu looked around as a thought occurred to her. She began trying to spot a hidden camera, wondering idly if perhaps she was on candid camera. The boy let out an enthusiastic parrot's whistle, the ends of his beak tilting up in a friendly, if somewhat naive, grin, "You are? Wow! You're one of my favorite superheroes!" "... I'm not a superhero." He continued on as if he hadn't heard her protests, "The dark chocolate knight! The cowgirl confectionist! The bovine brawler! The nutrasweet ninja! The..." The parrot boy paused as she raised a finger in front of his face, sternly muttering at him with as much force as a five foot nothing cowgirl could muster, "Just... stop." Whirring curiously at her reaction, he pressed on after a moment, "Oh I'm not a fan! I mean... well I am a fan, but I'm a superhero too! I'm Goth Cheddar!" "Well I'm not a superhero! I... Goth Cheddar?" Mulling it over for a moment, the cowgirl suppressed a chortle, finally asking, "What exactly is gothic about cheese?" "Well nothing, but the only super group that would let me in already had a kind of dark and moody theme going... see it's ironic, I found out I had the power to conjure and control cheese one day wh..." Bleu shook her head, shushing the boy again. Everyone had an origin story... EVERYONE. She had one too, but she had the common decency not to bother people with it, "Look, you seem like a nice kid, so I'm not trying to sound rude. But... how the hell do you know me?" Cheddar began digging around in his pockets, which was an impressively monumental task considering how many his suit had. After a few moments of stressful unzipping, unsnapping, and searching, he withdrew a crinkled strip of newspaper, "Your comic strip! So can you really... you know?" Turning the strip over, examining it curiously, Bleu raised an eyebrow at the gushing fanboy parrot, "Can I what?" With a wink, the strange little parrot boy looked right and left as if someone might be eavesdropping on them, before leaning in close, whispering, "Hypnotize junk food?" "..." Bleu opened her mouth, wanting to explain that wasn't technically correct, it was more like... motivational speaking to junk food... but then let her head hang, giving it up as a lost cause, "Yes..." "That's so cool!" "Comic strip? I have a comic strip?" Belle frowned, confirming as she read. Yep... that was her alright. Right down to her tight denim jeans and favorite sleeveless shirt. "Yeah... you didn't know? I thought you'd get royalties. A rising superhero and all..." Slapping her forehead, she drew the attention of a number of people in the line as she mooed loudly, "I'm not a superhero!" "Oh! I forgot! You're a revolutionary! Fighting for the rights and privileges of snackable goods everywhere! So... what does that mean? I don't think candy bars are that repressed. They get to travel... meet interesting people... before they're eaten, of course." That struck a chord in her. The ignorance of the consumer... it was what allowed the snack food industry to continue it's heinous work, "Look, candy bars are taken newly born, and double wrapped in claustrophobic foil and paper straightjackets, then locked in dark boxes full of their brothers and sisters, then shipped around the country. It's a crime! A CRIME!" Goth Cheddar nodded slowly as if he understood, before asking, "So you mean it's true that you really do go to convenience stores, and take all of the candy out of its wrappers?" "I pay for them first!" Bleu Belle insisted defensively, not sure if she'd made her point about the tyranny of the convenience food conglomerates. Junk food lived in conditions NO one should have to suffer! It was unforgivable! Intolerable! It couldn't be ignored any longer! It... Cheddar derailed her train of thought, pointing out, "Oh the line's moving!" "Alright!" Bleu cheered, having forgotten why she was waiting in the first place, so engrossed was she. Wanting more then anything to steer the conversation away from herself, she cleared her throat, trying to think of something to say. It was the first conversation she'd had with a nice, cute guy in sometime. Even if he was a little weird. But what exactly did she have in common with him? Well... they WERE both waiting in line to get their books signed. THE BOOK! "So what'd you think about the book?" "What book?" Bleu Belle choked, her attempt to strike up a nice conversation apparently failing miserably. Holding up "The Titan", she pointed to it, frantic now, "The book! This is a line to get the Titan biography signed!" "Oh! Right... no, I'm getting it signed for a teammate. I haven't read it." Disaster! She didn't have anything else to talk about! Bleu wracked her brain trying to think of something else. Anything else... Her leg began twitching, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from stampeding. Pressing on, she blurted out, "Aren't you interested in history?" Cheddar stopped to think about it, apparently putting deep thought into the question before replying "Nope." Bleu felt her eye twitching involuntarily. "I'm more interested in current events. I have enough history courses in college. Uhmmm can I ask one more question?" Belle let out a sigh of relief, nodding, "Why not?" Let HIM support the conversation for a while! She could answer anything he wanted to know about the fight to get proper rights and privileges to snackable goods. "Is it true that you... you know... once... with a... bottle of fizz-wiz?" Blushing, Bleu Belle hid her face in her hands, murmuring to herself, "Don't stampede... don't stampede... don't stampede..." Cheddar scratched his head, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder, "It's okay, I shouldn't have asked. It was just a weird rumor I hea..." At the sudden contact, Bleu lifted her head, wild panic in her eyes as she was startled from her mantra. Rather then stampeding, she blurted out hysterically, "... ALRIGHT! I SLEPT WITH A BOTTLE OF CHERRY FIZ-WIZ! WHY DOES EVERYONE REMIND ME OF THAT?!?" Bleu looked around, noticing most everyone in the line was looking at her and the parrot boy, "Uhmmm... that is to say..." "Sorry..." Goth Cheddar took a moment to compose himself, "So what happened with you two?" Belle's shoulders slumped, remembering wistfully, "Well... we were wrong for each other. Gary was a nice guy, but work kept getting in the way. It's hard to date a girl when everyone in your family thinks she's the savior of their race, you know." "Yeah, I guess so... his name was Gary?" Cheddar asked, apparently missing the point of the story. Bleu dug out a 13 oz. bag of potato chips, fuming. Potato chips actually had it rather well off, considering half the bag was empty air, but still oppression was oppression. Letting in the fresh air as she tore open the bag, she could hear the fried inhabitants of the bag sighing with relief. Grabbing a petite fistful, she wedged it into her mouth, chomping down on the salty snack to a chorus of cheers from within the plastic bag, "Viva la revolution!" "Oh! Potato chips... Can I have one?" Still pouting sullenly, Bleu tilted her nose up, her cheeks puffy with recently emancipated potatoes. Catching a look at Cheddar out of the corner of her eye, she swallowed hard, and held out the bag awkwardly, "Alright." It was clear he didn't really MEAN to be so damned dense. Why couldn't men be more like chocolate? "So... Dr. Belle, could I, uhmmm... you know, if you weren't busy, and wanted to get some coffee sometime or..." Cheddar trailed off, chuckling nervously, "Oh never mind. ... so... uhmmm... what did you think about the book?" "... are you trying to think of something to say to change the subject?" "Uhmmm yes... yes I am." Cheddar agreed, looking around for inspiration. His eyes lit up as he pointed, "I can see the front of the line!" "Uh huh. So what were you going to ask me?" Cheddar's eyes began roving nervously again, as he let out a flustered whistle, "When?" "Just now." "Oh. I asked what did you think about the book?" "Before that!" "Can I have another potato chip?" "... do you want my phone number?" "Very much so." Shaking her head as they reached the front of the line, Bleu dug around in her bag for a pen. Lounging behind a flimsy tabletop, laden with silver print hardbound books was a tall lioness in a business suit. Elegant, regal, and above all haughty, she was without a doubt the author and heiress, Victoria Wainwright. Playing idly with her thick black pen, the lioness cleared her throat. The cowgirl ignored her, her head wedged into her huge canvas bag now as she searched frantically for something to write with. With a frozen, false smile, Victoria gritted out as cheerfully as she could manage after a hundred and seventy-eight signatures in ten minutes, "Hello? Who should I make it out to?" Bleu's bell rang out loudly as she lifted her head out of her bag, "Hrmmm? Oh thanks!" Reaching out, she snatched the pen from Victoria's hand, and scribbled down her number across the back of Cheddar's comic strip, "So, you're going to call me, right?" "Excuse me?" Victoria felt her teeth gritting as a migraine set in. Honestly, that she should have to cater to these... people, and sign their books. True, she couldn't blame them for wanting her signature, after all, she WAS a talented author as well as a refined sophisticated young woman whose family had protected the city in it's infancy, "That fountain pen is a Girovelle', it costs..." The cowgirl lifted her finger to her lips, shushing the older woman, "Just a second, lady." Putting the pen in her mouth, Bleu gnawed on the back of it, nervously smiling, "So, you'll call me later?" "Uhmmm... of course I'll call! Thank you! I'll..." Cheddar tilted his head to the side curiously, listening intently, "What's that rumbling noise? Is that the air conditioning?" Victoria had begun growling deep within her lithe chest, the sound slowly raising in crescendo. Bleu gave her a winning smile, suddenly recalling what she was in line for again, "Hi!" Tossing the pen back to the lioness, she plopped the book down in front of her, "I loved it! Could you sign it "To Bleu Belle, best wishes" or something like that?" Watching the Girovelle' as it rolled back and forth across the table top, the smudges of potato chip grease, the teeth marks in the delicate gold filigree, Victoria began to see red. She reached for its slim body which only her own delicately manicured fingers had touched until this day... how she had lovingly signed checks with it daily, one of those checks being the one she'd given to have the autobiography ghost-written... how it had served her over the past month during her tour... The lioness let out a bestial roar, reaching across the table for the cowgirl. Bleu let out a startled little moo as Wainwright caught hold of her bell. What followed was difficult to track as the cowgirl pivoted, twisting to the side. Bleu used the momentum of the lunge to drag the writer across the table, flipping her over with impressive force, the sound of the lion as she hit the floor echoing throughout the store. A reflex action, Bleu was about as shocked as anyone in the store... well except for Victoria. "Uhmmm... I think I need to go.. Bye Cheddar!" This time she didn't resist the urge to stampede, bolting through the aisles of books with astonishing speed for a cow girl, nimbly unwrapping a Choco-bar as she ran for the exit. The dog-boy in back of Cheddar adjusted his glasses, before nudging the parrot, "Wasn't that Dr. Bleu Belle?" "... yeah." "She's my favorite superhero." "Oh, she's not a superhero. She's a dietary revolutionist." "Oh." The two took a handful of steps back as Victoria began growling again, the lioness regaining consciousness suddenly. Victoria pulled herself weakly to her feet, snarling once she recovered from having the wind knocked out of her. "I'm going to kill that cow!" The silver "T" shaped amulet at her neck began to glow, thick strips of gleaming armor sliding out from the tiny necklace, defying a number of laws of physics. Spreading across the lioness as she ran, the sturdy silver plates fell into place with a series of clicks. At ten feet tall and six feet wide, the behemoth of steel roared before taking off at greater speed, the ground shaking beneath her feet. Vaulting over aisles of paperbacks, she crashed through the store in a berserker frenzy, her tracking systems going online, searching... the cowgirl couldn't have gotten far! Suddenly a chord was drawn taut in front of the creature, and with a yelp, the Titan tripped, flailing as it collapsed in a heap on the "New Age" section of the bookstore, sending paper and dust flying everywhere. Cheddar watched with awe the man wielding the chord as he calmly began collecting it. The Titan's armor slid away, revealing Victoria to be unconscious... again. "Wow... who's he?" Dressed in an expensive looking business suit, the rabbit collected the last of the steel cable, and bent down to collect Victoria, "He just beat the Titan! Is he with Furr Force Five or the Offenders?" "No, he's not a superhero. That's Barnaby Tull. He's her publicist." "Oh..." It seemed to Cheddar that the superheroes of Supermegatopia had bigger problems then super villains, if these were the kind of people that got into the dietary sciences and publicity racket. Overture: Origin of the Deadly Duo " She tried to kill someone at the signing today." Barnaby had finished his second scotch, and now was chewing on the ice. Vanessa Tull didn't look up from her computer screen, nodding sympathetically, "Well she's a predator. And those lions are all so line bred, they're all related." "Heh." Barnaby let out a short laugh at that, pouring himself a third scotch. Stepping in back of Vanessa, he sipped at his drink, while at the same time taking advantage of his height to look down her blouse. Casually untying the ribbon that tied her long ears together, he began to slowly massage them, "So... how was your day?" "Getting better I think..." She smiled, turning off the screen, and craning her neck to look up at Barnaby, "Is my honey bunny tired?" "Not THAT tired..." He leaned forward, eyes intent upon her lips, the most sensual of any bunny he'd ever known, full and lightly colored with a shade of soft pink that drove him wild. They'd been married for twenty years now, but most stereotypes have some basis in reality... and they were bunnies, "When was the last time we..." He whispered in her ear, causing her to break out in a fit of giggling, "What a bad bunny!" She chastened him as she slid off her chair, the two hiding under the desk. At this point the door slammed open, their daughter rushing into the living room, "Mom? Dad?" Vanessa peaked up from beneath the desk, "Uhmmm... Filia?" "I finished my homework, can I go out with Patrick now?" "Did you study for the math ex AH! Don't bite! Quit that!" Vanessa pushed Barnaby back under the desk, clearing her throat, "Okay. Don't forget to put a fresh battery in the suit, and NO evil masterminds tonight. It's a school night." "Okay!" Filia waved merrily as she skipped out of the room. Vanessa wasn't keen on the idea of superheroing really, but then she took the same stance on superheroing as sex, believing it to be her parental duty to make certain her daughter was prepared. "Now, who's my bad bunny?" Filia strapped on her gauntlets, locking them in place over her black pleather suit. Stomping on her heavy black boots, she examined her slender figure in the mirror. She snapped on her thick form fitting plasti-steel breastplate, pulling off the snap fit daisy that had been in place over her left breast. As a superhero she needed a logo, but she really couldn't pick just one. She liked the plastic daisy for most nights out or there was a really cool teddy bear one that she sometimes wore on special occasions, but for tonight... she selected a smiley faced button and snapped it into place on the black chest guard. It was moderately bullet proof, and also did wonders for her, working in a similar capacity as a wonder bra. Her mother, Vanessa Tull, Jackbunny Industries CEO, amassed her fortune through her mechanical genius, developing more economical coffee machines, hand held dictation machines, and novelty contraceptives for other large business firms, catering to secretaries the world over. While she has toyed with the idea of extending her corporation's development criteria to include weaponry for the girl in the big city, the idea was canned when product testing revealed most firms simply refused to subsidize the project, already strapped for cash after passing their last office supply budget for the quarter. And it would be unheard of to cut back on the contraceptives and coffee budget. So she'd been more then happy to give Filia her prototypes for her night time excursions. Filia dialed up Patrick and Cheddar's pager numbers, before picking up her shiny black and chrome helmet, laying her ears back as she slid it into place. Stepping out into the garage, she made sure to pick up a new battery for her suit. Clicking her heels together, the boosters in her boots sputtered to life, sending her into the air. As always she couldn't wait to meet Patrick. Patrick had been her partner since the beginning, even before she'd gotten the suit. It's been said that love makes people do strange things. As an addendum, hormones make people do strange people. Never more true for any species then the bunny. In high school they met. Filia Tull, the wealthy, preppy cheerleader, and Patrick Patreich, the comic book obsessed class president. Being bunnies nature took it's course, springing the teens to experimentation. Leather-spandex bondage Tuesdays led to the idea why not become super heroes? On their first outing, they learned a great deal... Filia found out even cheerleader bunnies can not fly, regardless of how cool their cape looks. Patrick discovered... gunshot wounds hurt. A lot. But bunnies are stubborn creatures. There'd been a few rough spots... Patrick hadn't really cared for the idea of power suits. Mostly because he found out they were only "moderately bulletproof". He'd wanted to get superpowers for real, which was a good thought really. Except neither of them had known how to go about doing that. ***(Flashback Warning)*** +++ "I talked to mom, and she's building us suits or... something." "Suits?" "Yeah! Like they make you stronger! Faster! Lets you fly! And more!" "Are they bullet proof?" "Well... no." "Screw that! I want super powers. Real super powers!" "Well... why not like... jump into a vat of spooky chemicals? Or get bitten by a werellama! Or find yourself a hermit on the outskirts of town with a tub of magical cottage cheese?" "..." "OH! Or radiation! Jenny told me that if you get hit with radiation, that like... you get super powers." "Where can I get doused with radiation, Fil?" "..." "..." "Well... there's the microwave!" "... microwave?" "Stick your head in the microwave!" "..." "We can set it on low?" Finally breaking into a nuclear power plant, Patrick stepped into the chamber. It came as a complete surprise to Filia that while there WERE some cases like Nuclear Ferret the invincible, or Squee-Gee, "the low sperm count lemming" whose mucus spoke fluent Portuguese, MOST extreme radiation exposure cases resulted in death! Luckily, her mum was a mechanical genius and daddy was a great publicist who studied voodoo on the side (How convenient...) After vast modification, embalming, bartering with other worldly forces, and costuming, they unveiled CAPTAIN CADAVER, the cyber zombie warrior! (Actually it was the most expensive taxidermy job in history, the captain having the mental ability of a squished roach, as well as the mobility of one... on his good days.) Filia swore death wouldn't ruin their dreams, after all, "It could have been worse, he could have become a super villain, or started dating Connie Cat, the cheap pussy." Donning her powersuit, Filia let her ears down, nodding with approval. " Now you just need a cool name, sweetie." "Don't call me sweetie! Like I'm sixteen, mom..." "Well how about Death Girl?" "I think that's like... taken or something, you know?" "Gothic Lass?" "But I like blue jeans..." "Uhmmm Necro Gal?" "Necro... Necro... That's it! Necro-Filia!" "... ummm, Sweetie, I don't think." "Don't call me sweetie!" "But necrophilia means someone who... uhmmm..." "Defends the weak! And like... looks good doing it!" "No, sweetie. It means someone who buggers the dead." "... EWWWWWW! You just made that up! You're just jealous you didn't think of it! Who would sleep with a... wow, he is just so cute in that outfit." "About Patrick... we couldn't really manage to..." "So you fixed him? Great, gotta go! We'll like be back by twelve!" (The Flashback is Over. Rejoice.)
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