all I will say about that for now.
I made a beeline for the exit door as soon as the first credit appeared. Scar-face immediately stepped in my path.
"Give a message to your boss," he said. "You can't hold us off forever. Plans are underway."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied. "I don't have a boss. I've been my own employer for the last 61 years... ever since I quit my job cleaning up classrooms destroyed from botched chemistry experiments. One can only inhale toxic fumes for so long before starting to wonder if whether or not one's health is worth exchanging for minimum wage without benefits."
"Just give him our warning," said Scar-face.
"Sorry," I said, "but the number 12 bus only stops around here every few hours. If I miss it I'll have to walk home. Have you ever tried to walk home from this part of downtown? I'll be lucky if I don't get lost and have to eat for dinner some sort of stale, dried-out, vending-machine egg-salad sandwich while drinking unclear water and listening to a complete stranger talk about how when they work the graveyard shift at the warehouse they sometimes have hallucinations about toys that come alive and write uniquely philosophical screenplays. They'll say I can buy one of these sure-to-sell scripts for only 20 bucks. I'll decide to take a chance and shell out the cash, but when I get home I'll realize I've been totally duped and that the script really has no philosophical aspects at all but is only a mistaken-identity thriller that I end up selling to a lame studio for a bag of cashews. Also at some point either a bird will shit on my head or a bus will soak me with puddle-water, or both, depending on if I walk down one of the tougher cross-avenues."
I pushed my way past Scar-face, ready to use the sword-cane if necessary. Opening the exit door into the alley I realized I was the only one leaving the theater this way, as the rest of the crowd had gone towards the lobby for a Q & A with some of the film crew. When the door slammed shut I saw one of Leafhead's portals appear, hovering silently beside the familiar rat-infested dumpster.
"Hurry up!" shouted Leafhead from through the gateway. A disembodied robot hand appeared and made frantic motioning gestures.
I jumped through, back to the house. Scar-face raced into the alley, just managing to catch a glimpse of the portal before it closed.
"You were right," he spoke into an earpiece.
Then Later That Evening...
"...Red Cape Man said 'Not on my planet!' as he punched Greenskull over the lava-river. Then Greenskull said 'I've already won!' before chucking a grenade at the roof and causing a bunch of rocks to fall on the stolen blueprints. Meanwhile Purple-Robed Freak was barely managing to fight off a giant grappling land-squid with the last canteen of holy-water..."
Leafhead had asked me for a descriptive account of the movie.
"...suddenly it seemed like Purple Robed Freak was lost. Captured by the squid, about to have his spinal cord snapped like celery with the sound-effect of a knife stabbing a head of lettuce. 'Help!' he screamed. 'The holy water isn't working!' Red Cape Man suddenly appeared, having been able to flee while Greenskull was distracted by the loss of the stolen blueprints. 'Try this!' yelled Red Cape Man as he threw over a small pouch of sand. Purple Robed Freak miraculously caught the bag and then displayed comedic annoyance about having just been given a pouch of sand as a viable method of fighting off a giant land-squid. 'What's this sand all about?' he shouted as his shoulder was simultaneously dislocated and relocated a couple of times. 'Only pure poison to that creature!' replied Red Cape Man just as the formerly lost pack of swamp-monsters re-appeared at the end of the tunnel. 'No time to waste!' he added, chucking a couple stink-bombs at the swamp-monsters. The bombs had no effect on them, given that their natural stink was far worse than anything that could be made with chemicals in a laboratory. I was surprised at Red Cape Man for the poor choice of weapon. Meanwhile Purple Robed Freak had poured the sand over the squid, which promptly caused the demonic creature to bubble and melt into a puddle of slick tar. Red Cape Man and Purple Robed Freak then fled down the other end of the tunnel. It worked out perfectly...the pack of swamp-monsters slipped across the squid and impaled themselves on a nearby pit of stalagmites..."
"That's enough for now," said Leafhead.
I then got serious and told him about Scar-face's warning.
"Don't worry," he said. "We've still got a few months before they invade the house."
I wandered off to the library.
Journal Entry #2
Tonight I went to the screening of the Red Cape Man movie. It was a great time, albeit partially spoiled by the presence of Leafhead's unsettling arch nemesis, Scar-face. I can see how the film is propaganda to Leafhead. It clearly has a hidden agenda. There is also a palpable aura of prophecy surrounding the whole thing. I don't yet know exactly how, but this film definitely contains clues as to how the conflict between Leafhead and the Agents will play out. It is imperative that Leafhead see this movie once it hits the general public.
Much occured in the immediate time to follow, yet it goes untold for now. As far as you the reader were concerned, it felt as if it was instantaneously...
...A FEW MONTHS LATER.
Journal Entry #84
Another long day on Mars. The portal hit a record high of over 7 hours. I stayed for the duration. It only takes about 4 or 5 hours before the mind begins to feel fuzzy. The jarring gravity (not to mention surreal surroundings) eventually plays tricks on you. Leafhead has stayed over on Mars during the 24-hour portal-crash but doesn't recommend the experience. We are working on developing decent gravity-pills and atmospheric-normalizers. With the time I was able to traverse about half the perimeter of the lake. The only real exploring to do is amongst the rubble of the city. No reason to wander off and get lost... as far as the eye can see in every direction is empty desert. Leafhead claims there are many other ruins on the other hemisphere, ones even more well-preserved than Lake-City, but that he chose this area because it is the only spot left with fertile enough ground to support growth. I have learned much about the Martians who thrived here long ago, but for everything I understand about their society there is twice the amount of bewilderment. For every answer discovered there is a new question revealed. While digging through the crumbled alien walls I found a very Earthly object... a dusty gold picture-frame. The glass remained unbroken, the document untouched. I quickly realized I'd found where Leafhead had chosen to stash his Last Will and Testament. This didn't seem all that strange considering Leafhead... until I actually read the document. It is dated from 1963, making him much older than he appears. This confirms what I essentially already knew, given that pop culture based on his life dates back to at least the mid-40s. I intend to question him about the Jellyfish. The really strange part was the fact that I, Jonathan Farquarson, am listed as the sole beneficiary of the estate. The will predates my birth by a decade and a half... and yet there I am written down in Leafhead's unmistakable handwriting. I brought the mystery back from Mars and have hidden it in my room--
"Leafhead says to meet at the library now," suddenly announced my wrist-watch. Acting as a messaging device was probably its most useful talent. Without wireless communication in a house like this you could spend hours trying to find someone and wind up stumbling into more carnivorous reptiles than humans.
I stashed my notebook with the Will and headed to the library.
"Look at this!" exclaimed Leafhead. The round-table had shifted a few feet to the left, revealing a hidden staircase.
"What's down there?" I asked. This house would never run out of surprises. The perfectly plain table that I'd had breakfast at every morning for months was now another doorway into another unknown room.
"I don't know," said Leafhead.
"How could you not know?" I puzzled. "This house has mysteries even for you?"
"Evidently," he replied. "I wouldn't have thought so e
ither. But evidently,"
"Why'd you move the table anyway?" I asked.
"I didn't. I was eating breakfast... toast with raspberry jam and blended Martian blue-leaves, as well as genetically-altered eggs that I rendered on the 3-D printer. I placed said items on the table, but before I started eating I also opened a book of word-puzzles and placed down a pen. Suddenly the table moved itself a few feet to left. The only explanation I can think of is that someone rigged this doorway to have an elaborate key system that is unlocked only when a group of very specific items are placed on a tabletop in an even more specific order. Given that I have never sat down at this table with toast, raspberry jam, blended Martian blue-leaves, 3-D rendered eggs, a puzzle book open at page 38 and a pen, the door has never bothered to open."
I peered into the floor of the library, only the first few stone stairs were visible before a pit of total darkness.
"Torch!" ordered Leafhead. His wristwatch produced a holographic image of a burning torch. It gave off a flicker that is devoid amongst flashlights yet required when descending the staircase of a creepy basement.
"You first," said Leafhead. "Sometimes when I walk down stairs in the dark I think there's one more step then there actually is and I end up twisting my
Dr. Leafhead: Story of a Mad Scientist (Part One) Page 7
