The Rise of the Fat Mogul (The Defenders Saga Book 2)

by Adam Oster

  “The RLSH, Mr. Clark,” Zero jumped in. “Just our little way of letting everyone know that we’ve got everything under control.”

  “Not here, you don’t,” Clark said as he ran his finger down the paper in front of him. “When you’re at my ‘Con, I’m the one who has everything under control.”

  “Of course, sir,” Buddy replied.

  “Okay, so, we’ve got a few things showing here for the RLSH. I see a parade at 3, a fireworks show tonight, looks like there’s some sort of non-lethal martial arts show later today…non-lethal martia—nevermind. I’m not seeing anything that’s supposed to be allowing for any sort of roof access.”

  “Is there anyone we can talk to about this?” Buddy asked. “I mean, it’s not like we’re causing any trouble here or anything. Just a harmless stunt, right?”

  “If I don’t know about it before hand,” Clark said as he brought the radio back to his face, “it’s not harmless.” Clark pressed the button on the radio as he walked away from the pair. Buddy could just barely make out what he was saying. “Alright, Pete. Someone’s obviously screwed up somewhere. Do we have anything on file for those real life super hero kids that might not have made it onto the clipboard?”

  “Oh come on, Clark. You know those geeks have more stuff going on this weekend than any other group. It would take me an hour just to sort through their paperwork and I’m already swamped with complaints about everything from bathroom supplies to power outages. Just deal with whatever you’ve got up there and get back down here and help me out.”

  “Of course, sir,” Clark said, turning back to the group. “I’ll take care of it, sir.”

  Clark replaced his radio in its holster and looked Buddy and Zero over once again.

  “Anything wrong?” Buddy asked.

  “Alright,” Clark responded with a sigh. “I’ll let you kids off with a warning this time, but next time you’ve got something like this going on, can you just check in with me personally beforehand? I really don’t have the time to be running up to the roof for every one of your stupid stunts, okay?”

  “Of course, sir,” Zero responded. “It will never happen again.”

  Clark looked at Buddy. Buddy shrugged as he added, “Hey, man, don't worry about me. I wasn't too keen on doing it the first time.”

  “Alright, you two have your passes on you?”

  Buddy patted his legs in a useless gesture. “Sorry, sir, I left mine in my other pants. Not much room in these tights, you know?”

  Clark sighed. “I don't have the time for this. Ben,” he said, gesturing to one of the other men, “lead them back down to the convention floor. The rest of you with me. We’ll need to make sure that whatever wires they used to get up here aren’t going to cause any structural damage.”

  “Yes sir,” Ben replied and immediately walked toward the door on the other side of the roof. “Follow me, gentlemen.”

  Buddy and Zero followed Ben to the domed structure and into a door on the side. As they stepped within, the cold, conditioned air hit them like a brick. From this vantage point, they could see a majority of the convention's booths. Buddy was shocked with the noise that berated them as they entered the building. The entire room was abuzz with excitement and advertisements and robotic barkers hawking their wares.

  “You can return to the convention floor using these stairs,” Ben said, gesturing to a nondescript doorway behind them. “Have a nice time at Super-Con, gentlemen.” He stepped back out of the doors and left Buddy and Zero alone.

  The duo walked to a railing on the other end of the floor and looked out upon the sea of people. The convention floor was crowded, noisy, and extremely eclectic. Lights were flashing in every direction, some from people taking pictures of the enormous sculptures of monsters or people in costume, others from the many displays spread out across the room, ranging from advertisements of movies to sales of limited edition action figures.

  Twenty-foot tall posters hung from the ceiling depicting a wide assortment of creatures from fantasy and science fiction. Each one proclaimed limited edition collectibles awaiting new owners. In each corner, temporary walls were erected to reach the ceiling, each with ten foot versions of the logos for companies Buddy vaguely recognized as competitors in the comic book field. Surrounding those booths were the most brightly dressed of individuals, each looking as though they had come clothed in the attire of their favorite characters.

  And in the center of it all stood a thirty-foot statue of seven figures in an action pose. They stood with their backs to each other, as if working together to fight back the horde of people who had paid to enter the building. Each one, Buddy thought, looked incredibly familiar. He couldn't help but feel concerned as he recognized several members of his old team recreated in stone.

  “This was nothing like what I expected, chum,” Zero said with a frown on his face.

  “How so? Look out there, the masses are waiting for you.”

  “But this looks more like a gypsy encampment than a shrine to superheroes. How can one even stand being down there with so much noise and light?”

  “I think that's the whole point, pal,” Buddy said, slapping his friend on the back. “This is the number one place to get over-saturated with information about every single thing going on in pop culture for the last fifty years. For those kids down there, this is heaven on earth.”

  “I am getting the feeling that those kids may be seriously ill.”

  “You're not the first,” Buddy laughed. “So, what do you make of that statue there?” Buddy asked, pointing at the piece that dominated the room.

  “You mean the bronze portrait of The Defenders of America? What should I make of it?”

  “Why the hell is it here? No one knows we exist.”

  “Oh, well, that's simple. It's here because it's been here for ages. They erected that piece soon after we became a team as a way to show their gratitude for our actions in keeping the city safe. It was a present to us from the residents of Sun City.”

  “Isn't it weird that it's still around? Or that people don't, you know, recognize us from it?”

  “Perhaps. However, seeing as it's a rather constant figure within these walls, perhaps people have just become accustomed to overlooking it. It is, after all, one of the less brightly flashing items in this room.”

  “I suppose. Still seems like there's more to the story than that.”

  “I imagine you are probably correct, chum. But, for now, I believe we should attempt to tempt the fates and enter the madness below. Can you see where we are headed?”

  “Yeah,” Buddy said, pointing to an area near the statue, “I see an RLSH sign right over there. He said he should be near them, I think.”

  “Alright, then let's get on our way.”

  “One more thing there, chum,” Buddy growled.

  “What’s that, Buddy?”

  “Keep your eyes open for a refreshment stand. I still need to top off my caffeine stores.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “Meet the creators of the new comic series Shirts vs. Skins here at 2pm! Soon to be a Saturday morning cartoon!”

  “Back issues only fifty cents, this hour only!”

  “Hey, honey, nice costume,” said a black-haired tall female wearing a black cat outfit, complete with a long tail, little ears, and whip.

  Zero stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the cat-lady. “It's not a costume, cat-maiden, it's a uniform.”

  “Rwauw!” she said, raising her fingers into claws and scratching at the air. “I like a man with a little vinegar in him.”

  “Don't mind him,” Buddy said, stepping between the two. “He's had a rough morning.”

  “Well, if he plays his cards right, I can make sure he has a rough night as well,” she said, winking at Zero.

  “Although I’m sure he’d be delighted,” Buddy answered, “he’s probably not your type.”

  “Is she a villain?” Zero whispered to Buddy as he was being pulled away.

&
nbsp; “Who knows? With curves like those, I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her.”

  “Why would you throw her, chum?”

  “Nevermind.”

  “Of course. We shall return to investigate this situation after we complete our mission.”

  “Sure, whatever. Just get away from the lady before you realize that she’s trying to get you to buy something. My credit’s way past maxed out. Let’s find Talmadge and get on our way. And if there’s a coffee stand somewhere along the way, that too.”

  “Come play the new Cranket and Ratch game here before it even hits the stores!”

  “Oooh,” Zero smiled. “Cranket and Ratch are my favorites!”

  “Not now, Zero. We’ve got important business to deal with, and if we don’t get it done soon, I fear that I’m going to be paying for it in more than one way.”

  “Aw, come on now, chum,” Zero patted Buddy on the back. “I had my reservations upon entering as well, but I believe this place is starting to grow on me!” Zero stopped in his tracks at a booth covered in T-shirts and began giggling.

  “What is it now, Zero?” Buddy asked in agitation.

  Zero picked up a shirt off the table and displayed it to his companion. It says, ‘Superheroes do it in their underwear’. “Do you get it, chum?” Zero continued giggling.

  “Yeah, it’s great,” Buddy shrugged. “Now can we keep going?”

  “Of course,” Zero said, carefully replacing the shirt as Buddy left his side. Zero hurried to catch up. “I suppose the shirt does reinforce the stereotype that superheroes wear their under— Oh. My. God!“ Zero said as he again stopped in his tracks.

  “What?” Buddy asked, looking around for the source of Zero’s enchantment. Zero ran off without a word. In the distance, Buddy saw a large sign above a table promising ‘Authentic Life-Sized Weaponry’. “Oh.”

  Buddy noticed that near the table Zero had departed for was the RLSH sign he had seen when they had entered. He directed himself to the woman standing behind the table directly underneath the sign.

  “…and then I used one of these during my battle against the vile…” Zero was already in deep conversation with the man behind the weapons counter. Buddy decided to allow him the entertainment and take on this part of finding Talmadge by himself.

  “Very nice uniform, sir. I see you've taken the look of the Founding Fathers in a very modern light, while still managing to stay incredibly true to the original,” said the woman behind the table. She wore a blue polo shirt with a tiny image under the lapel of a man flying with a cape flowing behind him. She greeted Buddy with a warm smile.

  “I'm sorry, The Founding Fathers?”

  “Yes,” she said, gesturing behind her to the statue that towered over her. “You know, the men and women who are immortalized in the Defenders Statue. I had just assumed that since you looked so--”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry, I haven’t had my coffee yet. The Founding Fathers, yep. Seems like they get overlooked too often.”

  “I totally agree. I mean, we have this huge statue right here in the middle of town, and it seems like most people don't even know it exists.”

  “Yeah. . . “ Buddy tentatively agreed.

  “So, are you interested in the Real Life Super Hero movement?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Buddy snapped back. “I just met one of your members a couple nights ago. Was hoping you'd be able to help me find him.”

  “Certainly,” she said, pulling out a sheet of paper from a file cabinet behind her. “Whom are you looking for?”

  “Talmadge Jones?”

  “I'm sorry, sir. Due to the nature of our movement, we don't utilize real names in any of our official literature. Do you know which moniker he goes by when in uniform?”

  “Oh yeah, sorry, should have thought of that. He goes by Bumblebee.”

  “Oh, him,” she said, her demeanor suddenly changing, the smile becoming a look of consternation. “Yeah, he's back in the exhibitor section.” She looked down at the sheet. “Table 213.”

  “Okay, so, near here?”

  “No,” she laughed lightly. “He's on the other side of the building, near the video game pavilion. Just head that way,” she pointed toward the east side of the building, “and you can't miss it. It's pretty much the only area of the building that's not packed to the brim with people.”

  “That way?” Buddy asked, pointing in the same direction.

  “Yep, that way. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No, I think that's it. Thanks.”

  “Of course, sir. Please visit again. I'd love to show some of our senior members your take on the leader of The Founders.”

  “Sure thing,” Buddy smiled. “Have a good one.”

  “Do you mean to tell me,” Zero was arguing with the weapon vendor as Buddy arrived, “that you honestly believe that a sword made of fire could beat any form of projectile weapon?”

  “It's not as much about the sword itself. I mean, what I'm saying is that it depends on the person wielding it. Just think, if you could somehow harness--”

  “Even a blade would be better than flame, because at least you might have some chance of deflecting a bullet, but with fire--”

  “Right, but by this point the world would have turned to energy weapons, meaning--”

  “But why wouldn't they just go back to bullets after they realize these fire samurai or whatever you want to call them--”

  “Hey, Zero,” Buddy interjected. The two stopped and stared at him. “I hate to cut your convo short, but we've gotta head over to the other side of the building to find Talmadge.”

  “Do you mean Talmadge Jones?” the vendor asked.

  “Um, yeah,” Buddy answered.

  “He's one of my best customers. Is he here? I'd love to get to meet that kid face-to-face. You’d be amazed at what I’ve been able to convince him to buy.”

  “Yeah, he's here,” Buddy replied. “Way over in the exhibitor section or something like that. Come on, Zero, let's go.”

  “Before we go, chum. Do you happen to have some money you could lend me? This gentleman has a mint condition working replica of the rail gun used in--”

  “I’m pretty sure Maggie would kill me if I lent you any more of the money I don’t have, pal. Let's go.”

  “Oh, alright. Mr. X,” Zero said, speaking to the weapon vendor, “I'd highly appreciate it if you could hold that rail--”

  “No, Zero, just no. It ain't happening. Come on.”

  “Fine,” Zero said, dragging his feet as he followed Buddy.

  “Having fun?” Buddy smirked.

  “Of course, chum. In fact, I was just chatting with that vendor back there about our old exploits and although he believed me to be telling fiction, he said they reminded him of a character from a series known as Guy Flambé. I was thinking that maybe we could pick some of these up. I’ve been thinking about this whole comic book thing lately and wondering if maybe it has something to do with--”

  “Wow,” Buddy interjected. “You’re really all over this whole convention thing, aren’t you?”

  “I believe there might be some clues as to how we might be able to correct the results of the Mind Wipe in these—“

  “Alright, fine. After we find Talmadge, we can look to see if we can find some comics for you.”

  “Perfect. Hey, do you smell that?”

  “Smell what?”

  “That smell from the gods. I know that smell. There's only one woman who can produce a smell as intoxicating as that.” Zero quickened his pace, looking in every direction as he went.

  “I don't smell anything except sweat and latex--which, I have to say, is a scent that should accompany something much more pleasurable than this.”

  “No, not the stench of nerd, the sweet smell of caramelized raspberries. The smell of the one and only Maggie Jackson's Famous Raspberry Pie!” He visually spotted his target and moved faster to the goal. Buddy tried keeping up, but found his way continually blocked b
y folks in costume trying to move from booth to booth. When he finally made his way to Zero's side, he saw that his friend was already salivating over a freshly baked specimen of his favorite treat, attempting to garner the attention of Alexa as the rest of the line yelled at him about going to the back.

  “Why is it that you seem to stop at every chance you get? At this rate, we might have been better off just waiting for Talmadge by the exit at the end of the day.”

  “Don't you see, Buddy, she made it for me. She knows of my love for her raspberry deliciousness. In fact, there was a time when she would make it every time I came home from--” Zero stopped for a moment with a wistful look on his face. “Never mind. All the same. That pie is mine!”

  “Not if you don't get to the back of the line it isn't,” said an old woman who was anxiously awaiting Alexa to retrieve her ordered items.

  “My dear madam,” Zero spoke harshly, “if you do not cease to continue your constant prattling about this damned line of yours, I will be--”

  “Zero,” Buddy cut him off, “chill out already. It's just a pie, okay?”

  “Hey boys,” Alexa said, forcing a smile as she rushed to wrap a sandwich. “Looks like you made it in alright.”

  “Yeah, hey, where is everybody? Wasn't Maggie supposed to have hired on a whole bunch of people to help out? I don't even see her.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Alexa said, handing the lady the sandwich and holding two fingers up to the man next in line who was wearing a costume that looked like a cross between a dog and a bear. “Turns out she didn't get nearly enough help. And our power keeps shutting off intermittently, so everyone went off to deal with that. Now, it's just me and Sal left.”

  Buddy hadn't noticed Sal sitting on a chair at the other end of the table. He was collecting orders and money.

  “Hey Sal!” Buddy yelled to the old man. Sal looked up slowly, a look of tension on his face. “What are you doing out of the diner?”

  Sal got up from his chair and ambled slowly over. “Buddy, great to see you, you big dummy. Diner's closed since Maggie's out here. Figured I may as well work to pay off some of my tab, you know?”