Confessions of a D-List Supervillain

by Bernheimer, Jim; Hsieh, Fiona

  The other Manglermal is a lizard lady who calls herself, Kimodo. She must be a new convert because she doesn’t have a criminal history or she has been smart enough not to get caught. My guess is that the lady is strong, a leaper and does a good job climbing sheer surfaces. As I examine her, she flicks her tongue at me.

  The last face gives me pause. No, not him! Please God no! Despite my fervent wishing, there he is … The Biloxi Bugler. He just grins at me and gives me a wink. Of course he had to come out of retirement. The first stinking hero I ever lost to … the guy who sent me to prison … I have to work with him?

  “Are you okay with that, Mechanical? If not, we can switch and you can help get all the freighters and tankers free that are aground on the banks of the Mississippi. You’re probably better suited for carrying cargo since my winds would probably damage the pallets and such and my wind won’t punch through the hull of a ship like you would.” Wendy asks and I realize I haven’t said anything yet. It’s probably unnerving her.

  “Yeah, it’s cool. I’d rather be a cargo hauler than a tugboat. It doesn’t matter to me. I just need to change out my powercells and pack some spares. We’re in for a long day.” Somehow, my first day on a super team doesn’t look so epic.

  “Okay, until we can get some sense of normality around here, I’m not going to hold a deputy vote. Sheila is well known in these parts and she’s going to be the deputy leader for the foreseeable future. If anything happens, I won’t be more than a half hour away. Any questions? None? Good then Onward Guardians!”

  I cringe as Sheila, the José’s, and The Bugler repeat it with gusto. Chain Charmer mumbles it while I look at the two Manglermals and try to remember why I signed up for this in the first place.

  • • •

  “I’m glad to see you finally on the side of the righteous, Mechani-CAL. You’ve come a long way since ManaCALes,” The Bugler corners me back at the cargo elevator and says. At least he’s putting the right emphasis on my names. He at least respects me enough to do that or he’s anal retentive. It could be both.

  “It seemed like the thing to do at the time Bugler,” I answer. “I didn’t even know you were on the squad. You look like you’ve dropped a ton.”

  It’s true. He’s in as good a shape as when we first fought all those many years ago. In his retirement speech, he admitted that he had adult onset type two diabetes and that it was time for a younger generation to answer the clarion call of justice or some similar garbage. It’s another case of the bug diet plan getting some people healthy while others were just made to die.

  “It was strange. One day I’m watching strange news on the television and digging the costume out of the closet. The next thing I know, I wake up and I’m one hundred and ten pounds lighter! As for why I’m back, I have to believe I was spared for a reason. Just like you, Mr. Stringel, I’ve been given another opportunity and I know I still have something to offer.”

  “Why did you want to join a team this time? You had a pretty good solo gig going.”

  “I’m just a reservist, who has been activated until Andydroid is able to join us.”

  There’s a light at the end of this tunnel! “Shouldn’t you be getting to the sleds?” All this bonding is making me uncomfortable. I might have to hurl.

  “It’s a fresh start for both of us, Mechani-Cal. I want to put our past behind us and be good teammates. Feel free to call me Bo when we’re not in uniform.”

  The bile is creeping up in the back of my throat, but it’s a nice gesture, so I’ll reply in kind. “Well in that case, I’m sorry I put you in the hospital that time. Speaking of that, you ought to think about wearing some thicker armor.”

  “My wife is making me look into it. That is part of the reason I asked to join the Guardians. She doesn’t want me out in the thick of things by myself anymore.”

  “Sounds like she really cares for you,” I say, still feeling uncomfortable. I have enough problems with my own relationship issues.

  “That she does, boyo. That she does. So, what do you have there?” He gestures at the case I’m opening. Inside is one of the things I created out of the salvage pile at MountOlympus.

  “My second minion. It’s a hover drone.” I remove the three foot wide flying saucer object and lift it up for the hero to inspect. “I’m still working the kinks out.”

  “What’s it do?”

  “Right now, Floater can fly and responds to basic commands from my neural net. I’ve got room for a camera and a small modular weapon mount, but it has to be lightweight. I’m down to three options; a pair of micromissles, a compact pulse pistol, or a sonic oscillator similar to the one in your bugle.”

  The Bugler looks at the space available with a critical eye. “I’m partial to sonics, as you’re well aware, but the mount is too close to your camera equipment. You won’t be able to fire a sustained burst without damaging your camera unless you can move the mount or redesign the oscillator. If you’d like some help with it, I can assist. I think you’ll have the same problem with the pulse pistol. My recommendation is the pair of missiles.”

  I often forget that many of these heroes are inventors in their own right. The Bugler’s specialty is audio engineering. It’ll be strange collaborating with him, since much of the sonic design I have been using is lifted from his own work.

  “Sure, I guess so.”

  “If that’s your second minion, I have to ask what your first minion is.”

  “Roller was too big to bring with me. I’m having it brought back from DC when the Olympians return this base’s jet. I built it off of parts from six different Type B robots. It’s bigger, stronger, and faster.”

  • • •

  The main deck of the navy supply ship is a beehive of activity. If I had some free time, I’d offer to try and fix either of their choppers and get myself out of this monotonous job. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury as pallet after pallet is waiting for me. There’s a sling assembly that allows me to carry two at a time. When I first landed, the deck crew wanted me to pose for pictures with them.

  I’ll admit it is kind of surreal. I guess I’m famous now as Aphrodite’s boyfriend. People actually want to be seen with me.

  When they assure me the sling is reconnected, I grip it and check to make certain everyone is clear of the blast zone and activate the jet pack. It’s a struggle to get up into the air as I turn back toward the city and the five mile trip to the warehouses.

  They didn’t want to use the warehouses near the piers because of all the protesters, rioters, or whatever they’re being called these days are. Naturally, the ones in the know found out where the food was going ahead of time and are there. From below, I see them streaming like a line of ants. Actually, they’re a little bigger since I’m not flying that high, so maybe they’re more like lemmings.

  Here I am congratulating myself for my rapier sharp wit and I almost miss the change in the crowd. At first, it looks like the rioters had finally reached the boiling point, but a whole bunch of them are running into the people making their way to the warehouses. It’s a stampede of fools running scared. There was a time in my past where I inspired that kind of “run for your life or you’re gonna die” fear.

  I switch over to the feed from Floater, who I left outside the warehouse. Something is jamming it. I only get an intermittent fuzzy picture, but I can see a big hole blown in the side. The distant piercing sounds emanating from the Bugler’s weapon reaches my audio receivers and confirms my diagnosis.

  Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves some supervillains in the area. I drop my load on the nearest roof and raise Wendy on our emergency frequency.

  “Wendy, Cal here. Something’s going down at the warehouse. I think the team is under attack. Is anyone else on the line?”

  There’s a pause before Wendy says, “Negative Cal. It’s just us. Better get there in a hurry. I’m fifteen minutes out.”

  “I’ll be there in one minute. I’ll try to let you know what’s going
on, but you might lose me as well to whatever is jamming their signal. I’m going in hot.”

  “Copy that, Mechanical. Good hunting.”

  Seconds later, the link to Wendy is drowned with static. Whatever or whoever is the source of the jamming is playing havoc with my systems. It gets worse as I approach and I’m forced to fly closer to the ground, in case my navigation systems go haywire. Besides, if they’ve been watching me come and go through the roof access that’s where they be expecting me to come in.

  Frankly, I’m just not that dumb. Circling around the back, I see a gaping hole where the wall used to be. I think I’ll go in that way. Unfortunately, being on delivery boy duty has left my suit woefully under gunned. I don’t have my sledge hammer or my mini-gun, so I’ll have to focus on speed and just hit hard with what little I do have.

  Strafing through the opening, I see rats … thousands of rats, crawling everywhere. That means that useless idiot Rodentia is here. There he is commanding his furry horde and firing a submachine gun like the psychotic little runt he is. Right next to him is the bloated form of Gunk spewing that same sticky phlegm that’s still all over the holding cells in my base. That crap hardens to a consistency of concrete when it dries. I couldn’t even power wash it off. I should have done the world a favor and killed at least one of them when they were my prisoners, preferably Gunk.

  Sending a shot from my force blaster at the two minor league clowns, I start looking for the ringleader of this circus. Kimodo and She-Dozer are down already. The rest have fallen back and are using the pallets for cover.

  Wham!

  Something knocks me to the ground and sends me careening into stacks of dry goods. Killing my jetpack, I try to get traction and slow myself down before I go right out through the wall. With that accomplished, I look around for who bushwhacked me.

  E.M. Pulsive! I hadn’t seen Eddie in a long time. He’s a guy who can turn his body into electrical energy and we have a history together. I did some rent-a-thug work for him back in the day and he’s going to be a tough nut to crack, because he’s been known to give even Ultraweapon a problem.

  Truth be told, one of the reasons I worked for “Empy” was I’d been hoping to team up and take a shot at Lazarus Patterson, but it never came to fruition.

  “Good help is hard to find there, Empy? You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel with these two.”

  “Ah, Stringel the sellout,” he answers in that irritating buzzing drone he has when transformed. “Is Aphrodite as good a lay as they say?”

  “Does that nympho whack job you call a girlfriend still use you to power her vibrator after you can’t get it up?”

  His response is a beach ball sized crackling ball of energy that vaporizes the pallet next to me. Nine millimeter shells from Rodentia’s gun ping off my shielding and armor. It’s distracting.

  “Easy there, Empmeister or word is going to get out that you have a premature discharge problem,” I mock him and fire the blaster in my helmet. It’s been a long time since I could talk trash to someone. Bug controlled morons were no fun and upset, hungry rioters are too pathetic. There’s a liberating feeling about insulting someone right before I take it to him.

  “Keep running that mouth! You ain’t never going to be anything more than just a chump in a tin can, Calvin.”

  “That might be true Eddie, but my suit’s waterproof,” I answer and smash my gauntleted hands into the fire alarm. “Sucks to be you!”

  The Cheshire cat grin on my face fades when nothing happens. Eddie tilts his glowing head. “Seriously? You’re trying the old spray him with water and short him out weak sauce. No one told me that it was rookie day. The rats already chewed through the wiring and the line coming into the building is full of gunk.”

  I have to give him props for coming prepared. “It was worth a try. Say what you want about me selling out, but you’re the one knocking over a food bank.”

  “I gotta eat too,” he replies. “Besides, this is more valuable than gold right now.”

  I consider the options. When Wendy shows up, she can suck up a few thousand gallons out of the gulf and give him the monsoon treatment, but that will ruin much of the food in here. “How much will it take for you and the idiots to just walk away?”

  “Huh?”

  I point to the pallets destroyed around me. “We fight and all the food gets wrecked. You don’t eat, the folks that were outside don’t eat, and everyone loses. Why don’t we make a deal instead?”

  I’m certain the rest of my “team” just gasped, but I’m being practical here.

  “Sure Cal, you take your little kiddie club and leave, while we clean out this place.”

  “Don’t get so greedy? Take five pallets and get the hell out of here.”

  “Five pallets won’t feed the rats. You’re just worried I’m going to mess up that pretty little suit of yours.”

  “Fine, eight pallets is the final offer. Otherwise we fight, most of the food is destroyed and even if you win, you still get out of here with right around what I’m offering.”

  He gives me a high voltage smile and I think he’s going to go for it. “So, you’re saying I can walk with eight pallets and not pounding you into the ground or I get the same thing if I do rough you up. Guess which one I’m going to choose, Tin Man? You two,” he says to his minions, “dispose of the others while I take care of him.”

  It seems like bolts of energy come flying from every direction. I dodge a few; take more than I’d like on the shields, and return fire as best I can. The pallet I scooped up to toss at him explodes in my hands in a gooey cloud of canned vegetables and peanut butter. I charge him knowing that it’s going to hurt, but realizing that I need to do this while I still have usable shielding to protect me.

  A glance to the side shows Chain Charmer has all his lengths of links in a defensive formation in front of the other Guardians. They snap like striking snakes at the horde of rodents attacking them, while Anemone’s paralytic mist stops most of them cold. The Bugler’s blasts push the piles of moving and unmoving rodents backward. A pair of José clones, lashing out with stun batons, protect the third clone who is tending to my injured teammates.

  Eddie and I collide. I activate the power absorbers in my gauntlets to stop E.M. Pulsive from swatting me away and start draining him. It’s the same thing I did to Zeus during the bug invasion – except Zeus was unconscious at the time.

  I stick to him like a tick and he isn’t pleased. “That ain’t gonna work either. I’ll just short out your systems in less than a minute.”

  The jetpack roars and drags us out the hole in the roof. “Maybe, maybe not. This suit is tougher than my last one. I guess we’ll see if I can make it to the Gulf before you do.”

  Since he made sure the water won’t come to him, I have to bring him to the water.

  “No you won’t!” Eddie thrashes and flares with power. There’s my master alarm again. I should just leave the damn thing on. I’ve got the throttle on the jetpack wide open. We’re not exactly on the straightest path back to the Gulf, but we’ll make it.

  “You’ll drown when your suit shorts out!”

  “Buoyancy. I’m already pressurizing the suit. Don’t worry about me Eddie, but if you land face down and pass out you’re going to be the one that drowns. I’m not the one ready to die over some food.”

  “Screw it! Ten pallets. I’ll take the damn deal,” he shouts.

  I slow the jetpack, grateful that I didn’t have to find out whether my suit would actually float or not. “It’s about damn time you came to your senses, Eddie. Truce?”

  “Yeah, yeah, truce,” he concedes and stops assaulting my systems. In response, I stop trying to drain his energy. “You’re a real bastard, you know that?”

  “It’s my calling,” I answer. “What are you doing back down this way? I thought you were working out of St. Louis.”

  “Damn bug brained people converted my base into one of those stupid factories. Hell, I probably helped.”r />
  “The bugs got you too?”

  “Yeah, your effin’ girlfriend. I ran into a bunch of the Olympians who were slugging it out with the Silicon Sisterhood. Zeus wasn’t there, so I just hung out and enjoyed the show. Aphrodite spotted me and attacked. I shot back.”

  “Let me guess … She said your blast killed her bug. You brought her back to your hideout where she propositioned you?”

  “That sounds about right. How’d you know? I turned back into my human form and she cold cocked me. Next thing I know, I’m a happy, happy, joy, joy drone lovin’ me some bug smack.”

  He doesn’t sound like all the other strung out bug victims. “What happened?”

  “I can’t stay in either of my forms all the time. Eventually my body changes and it got rid of that garbage in my system when it did.”

  “You didn’t have to detox?”

  “Not really,” he explains. “I’m different like this.”

  We come back through the opening in the roof. Not much has changed, Gunk and Anemone essentially took each other out. Rodentia is cowering behind canned goods while controlling his furry army.

  “Truce!” I bellow over the external microphones. “They’re leaving with ten pallets of food.”

  Chain Charmer sneers at me and says, “You’re just giving up?”

  “Look around,” I gesture. “Half the food in here is ruined. There’s twice as much still on that ship out there. Let’s quit screwing around and get the food to the people.”

  The rest of the Guardians don’t like it, but that’s their problem. I radio Wendy and tell her what’s going on. She’s not happy either. In the interests of getting on with my busy day in food delivery, I help put the pallets in the stolen tractor trailer and toss the paralyzed Gunk in the back with them. Ten minutes later, they and all the rats are gone and I get back to hauling food pallets and ignore the cold stares of the heroes.