Under The Radar 7

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I have pretty much made Pink Pixie’s public life a living hell. The beloved Pixie’s bewildering behavior made her the new favorite public whipping boy, or girl in this case. Originally, that term referred to a child servant utilized by royal families to punish a rambunctious prince. Princes couldn’t be punished like anybody else because they were better than everybody else; they were royalty. So some other boy would be brought in and whipped right in front of the prince.

So rather than worry about anything at all that might have led to the series of events where Pixie supposedly went out of control, the registration crowd make it sound like she alone is to blame for the ills of America.

That said, politics makes for strange bedfellows. The ACLU, NRA, KKK, FFRF, and all sorts of other letters are on the same side. The two major parties are mostly for it. Half the Libertarian party is for it. The other half would rather have state governments infringe on people’s liberty rather than the federal government.

Heck, even the Home School Legal Defense Association is against it, which is one step up from an endorsement from NAMBLA. That’s what happens when someone spend millions to keep the government from checking on homeschooled kids, then turn around and get found out covering up kiddy fucking.

Won’t anyone think of the children?! Wait, considering the subject, that’s counterproductive. We know for a fact some people would rather think of the children.

I’ve had a lot of time to watch the news with all the repairs I’ve had to manually make to my armor lately. That’s one reason why I’ve always favored armors that can be fixed easily. It gives me less downtime in between screwing with people.

When I had it good and ready, I headed out to pay a visit to the Pixie at her home. Ah, a hero’s house. The last bastion of safety where a hero can embrace their humanity again. The place where, if the universe is good to them, no bad guys will find them.

That’s not to say I had an easy time getting there. Venus’s heroes figured out I’ve been getting out through the sewers. At my usual spot, I found a block of C4 and a trip wire waiting for me to pull the manhole off. I doubt Venus set that up.

For all the moral confusion I’ve stoked in Venus, I don’t believe she’s cracked yet. One of these days, that idealistic detente of hers will crack and a cynical, hopefully murderous, response will leak out. But enough about me fantasizing about Venus being wet for murder.

I picked a different manhole to squeeze out. That’s what I do. I squeeze myself in and out of manholes.I found myself some other manhole to open up and slide out of.

I made it to within a mile of Pink Penny’s place in the guise of a middle-aged woman. That’s when I noticed the blur coming up on me from behind. I generally disliked blurred things near my rear, so I left the hologram in my place and stepped to the side. I thought I’d be fine, but then something light touched me and the speedster took an abrupt right turn. Followed by a right hook.

Knocked against a fire hydrant I’d just seen a dog use five minutes prior, I noticed he’d found me using some sort of stiff fishing-line looking thing. I jumped up and yelled “Urine in trouble!” Then I remembered I was still invisible. I threw a punch of my own, and low, but he got around me, picked me up, and slammed me into the rear window of a car. My head and right arm broke through while the rest of my body hung outside.

Then, effortlessly, I felt the car lifted up. I know I’ve said plenty of bad things about modern cars, but one clear advantage in their favor is the protective body. You know never know when some minor, useless trivia like that can save your life, because they flipped the car upside down and smashed it against the street. Then, while it was down, they crushed it down. Fine by me, I crawled out a broken rear window.

Still maintaining my invisibility, I staggered against a nearby wall to try and get a view of the situation. Turns out, it wasn’t a wall. A person made of bricks wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground. I tried kicking him in the balls.I smacked by head back. I even activated my Nasty Surprise.

For those who don’t remember, that’s a miniature chainsaw hidden on my left forearm. I hope I don’t need to explain the name.

All that did was cut away a part of my utility belt, which landed with a metallic “dong!” It’s not because I carry dongs into battle with me, either, but that’s a stupendous idea. The sound prompted me to check the suit’s seals. Arf arf! Still good, for now.

“Well, well, now we got your bomb,” said the speedster, holding it up. “How would you like it shoved up your ass.”

“Your fascination with my ass worries me more than that. Y’all wouldn’t. You’re just going to destroy it and try to bring me in to Venus, if she’s not already on her way.” I chuckled.

“Brickhouse, is he secure?” asked Pink Pixie as she landed.

The brick person spoke with a feminine voice, “He’s not getting away.”

“Yeah,” I added. “She’s mighty, mighty. Just lettin’ it all hang out, cause she’s a brick, da da da, house, da da da.”

Pink Pixie stepped forward, holding up the cylinder in front of me and shaking it from side to side. “You won’t be needing this anymore, will you?” she smiled, then held it between both hands and smashed it.

A mist shot out into her eyes and the metal popped away, hitting someone in the head from the sound of things.

Eager to look after Pixie, Brickhouse held me back away with one extended arm. I jammed the nasty surprise against the back of her hand. The blade snapped off, but she dropped me with a yelp.

I stayed low, then, while hell broke loose.”Hey, if y’all want to unleash a chemical attack on the streets like that, be my guess. I’m sure that’ll help your reputations. I didn’t even have to attack you, either. Face facts, shit for brains, y’all aren’t half the hero Venus is.”

A babble of voices spoke all at once, “We’ve got to contain ourselves.” “No! We have to contain Gecko, too.” “I think it’s too late. Venus needs to know before she gets here.”

“I’ll get her!” said the speedster, pumping his fist. Except he started coughing when he took off, then skidded to one knee on the ground, hacking.

“That’d be the enhanced metabolism, folks. Thus endeth the second part of this lesson to you, Pixie. Everybody burns…and everybody breathes.”

After that, I left them to their fate: the reckless young heroes who unleashed a chemical agent in Empyreal City that began to spread.

Where was kindly uncle Gecko as the city once again fell into a panic? Oh, nowhere. Just helping unfortunate victims and hypochondriacs both. I put in appearances as a pirate, distributing chests full of a cure for free. Making that many nanites wasn’t easy, either. It was worth it when Venus stopped by with a puking Pink Pixie in tow, only to find the people preferred my company to theirs.

If Venus had laser vision, she’d have exploded my head a dozen times over. I just held out my arms, “What? I didn’t attack anyone. I don’t know what your Pixie friend had to eat that day, but goddamn. Lay off the beans, girly.”

Pixie tried a snarl, then winced in pain as Venus turned her around to seek help elsewhere, at one of my many convenient locations!

Holy shit this escalated quickly.

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7 thoughts on “Under The Radar 7

  1. Pingback: Under The Radar 6 | World Domination in Retrospect

  2. Psycho Gecko Post author

    Glad y’all enjoyed it. I know things were a little short this time around, but I didn’t want to strain Optimal Outer Control for the same reason the update was late. Being sick during the day wasn’t enough. Apparently OOC spent the night in and out of sleep, running to pray at the porcelain altar when the coughing triggered a vomit reflex, so it sounds like everything’s just awesome for him right now.

    Reply
  3. Pingback: Under The Radar 8 | World Domination in Retrospect

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