The Last Oddetsey

[steven_mcg]

"You say an awful lot about yourself Professor" Gaunt said, delightedly overemphasizing his title. "But you seem to be purposefully leaving out all the important details. I have no doubt you have your uses. I would expect any super-villain worth his salt to claim as much as you. What I want to know is why the rest of this group is so worried about you. They obviously know something about you that goes beyond usual self-centered villainy. All the same I appreciate you speaking so plainly."

"Need you do we?" Gaunt continued. "I wonder why you seek our approval. You talk of us casting you out, so you seem more than prepared to go it alone as it is." Gaunt smiled broadly, but it was a sharks grin. All teeth and maliciousness. "Do you know what I think? I think you need us and you don't want to tell us why. Making blasters out of scrap! No doubt such things will be of great use against that!" Gaunt pointed towards the speck in the sky.

"You are a survivor, I don't doubt that at all. But a life-boat?" Impossibly, Gaunt's smile widened. "That is one of the best jokes I've heard in a long time and I REVEL in them! No, I would not trust to even walk to the end of this block with you! Not unless everyone else begged to go with you."

Heh.

You're clever. I like you.

I must admit the prospect of going solo in a semi-apcoalyptic wasteland plagued with religious xenophobic ducks from outer space doesn't exactly thrill me. If needs must, I suppose, but still even I appreciate a helping hand no and then, even if it has to be from a mob of weirdoes I've only just met. "Better the devil you know", eh?

Hehe. "Devil".

And why are they so scared? Zod knows. I may threaten the odd government body with flocks of gargantuan mutant mega-chickens, but according to that lot, I'm Jack the Ripper, Ed Gein and Piers Morgan combined! Believe me, good sir, no-one is more interested in my apparent reputation here than me.

(Oh yes, mock the gun now. You won't be laughing when some malevolent gamesmaster challenges us to life-or-death laser tag and everybody else forgets to pack heat.)

"Yes professor, weall know you are smart and clever. But can you do this?"

playzooki levitates a nearby dead cat with his nose hair.

"Im willing to let you into our group. But you must realize we all have our strengths and weaknesses, and must work together."

Yes, yes, yes. Of course. Anything for a fan, Mr...Playzooki, was it? There's no fear on that front, I can assure you of that. Even a genius knows his limits. That's what makes him such a genius!

(Don't stare at the hair. Don't stare at the hair. Don't stare at the hair. Don't stare at the hair. Good God, it's like the Flying Spaghetti Monster up there!)

"Well like him or hate him, it wouldn't hurt having a 'god' on our side for a bit, ze. Think of the things we could get away with! Besides, any of the gods I ever got to hang out with were neat. Granted one of them tried to wreck our little corner of the world but hey, all in fun right?" she grinned, "He'll just make things interesting!"

Well, thank you, my dear! You know, perhaps I was too quick to judge you all. Some of you seem to have impeccable taste!

I must admit that my past experiences with witchcraft have not been entirely pleasant ("Ffo reggub!" yourself, Ms Zatanna!), so if even a lady of your, um, heritage can appreciate my company, then I'll gladly accept your offer of an olive branch. Or should that be "broom"?

(I'll need all the mindless praise I can get at this point, anyway, I'll wager. I don't see this trip doing wonders for my self-esteem.)

She paused, looking a bit puzzled, before adding "You have weird taste in shrines though, Professor Vengance god guy."

That's nothing, my dear. You should have seen the seabase shaped like a giant enemy crab.

MAIN PARTY
Meanwhile, a closer inspection of the church leads the party to believe that this isn't in any way a villain base, although the stylings are unmistakeable to Vengeance. Staring through the front door there seems to be a golden large statue of Vengeance, albeit one with a physique less like the reality and more like a grecian statue. He holds his distinctive cane in one hand, and a globe in the other, and stares imperiously down at it like a benevolent conqueror.

Huh.

Well, that's a very...liberal interpretation of things, I must say. Even my own statues don't over-exaggerate quite that much in the pectoral department. I'm a little bit cheerier for one thing...and a...a l-l-lot less underdressed than this one. Oh my.

(Oh god, oh god. No! Control yourself! No blushing in front of the weirdoes!)

Inside they can hear a song announced as "The Second Coming by Phil Harmonik" which seems to be some bizarre mixture of classic rock and a hymn. At the rear of the room there appears to be some text written across a huge panel so everyone can see it, although you are currently too distant to read what it actually says. There is a creature which can broadly described as a kangaroo but with the skin of a cucumber handing out fliers near the door.

Phil Harmonik? As in Phil Harmonik Orchestra? Really?

I mean they're good, don't get me wrong, but I'd hardly call songs like Easy-Please Me or Stop, Drop & Rock 'n' Roll hymn-worthy material, you know.

Hang on, is that a-

Finally, someone to complain to! I say, hello? Reverend Skippy? A word in your ears; all of them!

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[Goddamnit, Alex, stop updating while I'm still typing! ]