Nuklear Age (47 page)

“Late?”

“To the damn trial.”

“Trial, eh?”

“You know, Dr. Menace suing you for the destruction of property amounting to about a quarter of a million dollars. We’ve been talking about it for at least an hour now.”

“Oh, rightrightright.” He checked the Danger: VCR Clock. “Naw, we ain’t late. The trial’s not until seven tonight.”

Atomik Lad was speechless. For a second anyway. “Why the hell didn’t you say so in the first place?!”

“Well, it didn’t really come up.”

The sidekick’s Atomik Field flashed to life in an angry burst of crimson. “I see,” he said with a voice that straining to remain calm as the final shards of the Field faded away. He released a shaky sigh to exhale or deeply bury his rage. “Isn’t it strange to start a trial so late in the day?”

The Hero shrugged. “Eh, turns out the lawyer I hired was some kinda wussy-boy. But he didn’t tell me that until I signed the contract, the dirty cheater.”

“Wait. What do you mean a ‘wussy-boy’?”

“Oh, he used big, fancy-shmancy words. I woulda Plazma Beamed him upside the head, but then I thought, ‘What would Sparky want me to do?’”

“Wow.”

“And then I got confused because I thought, ‘But wait. Why would I care about that?’ and then I forgot to zap his jabbering hide—curse it! Oh, he’s a clever one all right. Good thing I enlisted him to our camp. Camp Nukie, that is.”

“Of course.”

“With a scenic view of Lake Katkat.”

“Naturally.”

“Far from the smelly ol’ Sparky Sulfur Mine.”

“I got it. Now about the lawyer.”

“The wah?”

“The wussy boy.”

“Ah. He’s handicapped or something. He called the judge and got the trial delayed until tonight. ‘Oh, look at me, I am physically disadvantaged, please let me take advantage of it by stealing all the good parking spots.’ I bet they get born handicapped on purpose just to milk it. Buncha damn moochers.”

“Handicapped?”

“Yeah, so he can’t make it to the trial until about ten minutes after sunset. Wuss.”

“I wonder what kind of handicap that would be from.”

“Excessive wussiness, I bet.”

“Nuke.”

“No, seriously. He’s probably crippled. From the incalculable weight of his wussiness!”

“Those sensitivity tapes had no effect, I see.”

“Buncha bleedin’ heart whiner-talk. Those tapes got my fastest Plazma Beam to date, I tell you.”

Atomik Lad became horribly aware that he felt about a thousand years old. Mornings with Nuklear Man could have that effect on a body. “Oh man, I can’t believe it’s only ten in the morning. I’m going to be in a coma if I have to put up with this, this, this youness for much longer.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere. Other than your old position as sidekick. Sorry.”

“Look. I’m going to my…to Katkat’s Room. You are not to go anywhere, or do anything until I say it’s time to go to the courthouse. Got it?”

“Ummm…?”

“It’s a simple answer.”

“Feh, that’s easy for you to say.”

“Why me?”

“Ooh, I know this one!”

“You’re going to say something insulting, aren’t you.”

Nuklear Man pondered briefly. “You know, ‘insulting’ really is a rather subjective word. I mean, what might be insulting to you will undoubtedly be observant, witty, and true to me.”

“I’m going to play some video games now. Watch your silly Suzy’s Whatever-Capade.”

__________

Issue 37 – Due Process

Dr. Menace sat at the plaintiff’s table while jotting down Evil: Notes to herself. Nuklear Man and Atomik Lad sat at the defendant’s table. Neither side had a lawyer present. Nuklear Man peered around. The courtroom was packed with news teams from around the globe chattering nonsense to their bovine audiences—live! Nuklear Man turned back to the ex-sidekick sitting next to him. “Well, at least it hasn’t turned into a media circus.”

“Where's this lawyer of yours, anyway? It’s been dark for a while, now. Are you sure he was a lawyer?”

“Pretty much. Just be patient, he’ll show. Otherwise, it’s a breach of our soulpact.”

“Soulpact?”

“Yeah, the contract, blood signing, etc. He said it was pretty standard practice.”

“Wait, blood signing?”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about it. Besides, how long can a soul last anyway?”

The Danger: Nukie-Phone rang. Nuklear Man fumbled with it until Atomik Lad snatched it away.

“Knucklehead.” He put the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Atomik Lad? This is Dr. Genius.”

“Hey, what’s up, Doc?”

“It’s Norman. I’m worried about him.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I haven’t heard from him since he mentioned this ultra-secret ‘insurance’ plan of Nuklear Man’s. You know how his plans worry me.”

“Do I.”

“Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“Oh, geez. No, I don’t. Have you called his Magno-Pad?”

“I’m there now. No sign of him.”

__________

Meanwhile, in the Deepinahearta region of the Amazon…

“All right, monkey,” Norman said while reaching out to a frightened chimp hanging on a tree limb several hundred feet above ground. “We can do this the easy way or we can do this the Magno Way. It’s up to you.”

“Eek, eek.
Eeek Eek
!”

“Not the choice I woulda made, monkeyboy.”

__________

“Well, I’m certain he’s fine,” Atomik Lad said. “I’ve never known Norman to get himself into too much trouble.”

“I’m going to keep looking just the same. Good luck at court.”

“Thanks.”

“Who was it?” the Hero asked.

“Dr. Genius,” Atomik Lad said as he clicked the phone off.

“Oh? She wants me y’know.”

“No, I don’t think she does, actually.”

“Heh, shows what you know.”

Atomik Lad checked his watch. “It’s nearly seven. This lawyer of yours better get here quick.”

A bat landed on the table between them.

“Augh! Kill it!
Kill it!”
Nuklear Man squealed while dancing on top of his chair and holding his cape up so the vile flying rodent couldn’t climb up it.

Atomik Lad scoot back in his chair. “Gah! How’d that thing get in here?”

The bat exploded with a
BAMF
of smoke and an imposing figure loomed out it. It was an aristocratic gentleman who looked like he stepped right out of eighteenth century Europe. His attire was a stylish array of blacks, his hair was greased back, his cape fluttered ever so slightly, and his fangs gleamed.

“What the—
fangs?!”
Atomik Lad blurt.

“Hey, it’s Count Insidious!” Nuklear Man rejoiced. “I told ya he’d be here. C’mon down from there, ya silly. Pull up a chair and take a load off.”

“Nuke! You hired a vampire?!”

Count Insidious scanned the bustling courtroom with dread gaze. He noticed an elderly woman about to sit down near the back of the courtroom. He closed his eyes, his face tensed ever so slightly, and her chair rose up from under her at the precise moment she’d committed herself to the act of sitting. She collapsed like a bag of brittle bones. He allowed himself a small chuckle as the chair rocketed toward him, hovered mere inches from his face, and gently placed itself at the end of the table nearest to the prosecution.

“Yeah!” Nuklear Man said. “And he’s got all kinds of creepy powers from beyond the grave too!”

Count Insidious put a briefcase on the table and rummaged through its contents. Without ever touching them.

“But, but, he’s undead!”

“Hiss!” the Count hissed. “That’s Mortally Challenged to you, Daywalker.”

“Er, sorry?”

“Damn right you’re sorry. I oughta slap a lawsuit across your warm-blooded hide so fast it’d make your blood boil. Causing you to become flushed as the blood in your veins becomes more prevalent near the skin making it all themoreeasierto….” The Count’s thoughts trailed off.

“Nuke!” Atomik Lad grabbed the Hero by the collar and yanked him nose to nose. “He’s a bloodsucker!”

“I know he’s a lawyer. I’m not stupid, y’know.”

“No, I mean he’s a vampire!”

“I should hope so. We need that kind of blood-thirsty lawyerin’ to get us out of this mess.”

“No, Nuke. I mean he stalks the night as an animated corpse who feeds upon the blood of the living in order to survive as an insult to the eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth!”

Nuklear Man rubbed his chin contemplatively. He uttered a “Hmm” before going on with, “So what’re you saying exactly?’

“Ugh.”

Count Insidious tapped Nuklear Man on the shoulder, “I am an unholy blight upon this world, forsaken by the forces of Life, spurned by the hands of Death, I am cursed to forever roam in a state of netherdom.”

“So that’s why you kept calling me Jugular Man. You’re undead!”

“Look, buster. You can’t persecute me just because I don’t breathe, eat, or metabolize. I have rights too, you know. And I’ll sue you into oblivion to enforce them. But for now, I shall say a word to our opposition. Excuse me, gentlemen.” Count Insidious stood and, with a regal air, walked to Dr. Menace.

“He wouldn’t be so tough if he weren’t so tough,” Nuklear Man said in his own defense.

“Yeah. Excellent observation, Big Guy. Just how smooth is that brain of yours, anyway?’

“Smooth like a
fox!”

“Why do I talk to you?” Atomik Lad asked before hopping a ride on the Ignoring Nukie Train. His eyes trailed away from the Hero and focused on Count Insidious. “Why is our lawyer
making out
with the plaintiff?”

Nuklear Man turned around. “Maybe it’s a pre-trial snack? Or perhaps it’s one of his brilliant legal schemes! How can someone levy a legal case against us if she’s lightheaded from blood loss? Fantastic strategy!”

Atomik Lad leaned closer. “I don’t think blood loss is a problem here. Lack of air, maybe. You got a watch on you?”

“There aren’t enough hands on a watch for this.”

“Looks like he’s got the same problem.”

A few moments of ogling—I mean boggling—later, and Count Insidious returned to the Heroes without a word.

“Um, so, like. What was all that about?” Atomik Lad asked.

“Hm?” the Count answered while sorting through some more files without touching them.

“Makin’ out over there!” Nuklear Man clarified without the use of those darn, obtrusive nouns.

“Oh, that. Yes, Veronica and I have been together for some time now. But I wouldn’t worry, I am a lawyer after all. I’m completely biased, unscrupulous, untrustworthy, conniving, and heartless.”

Atomik Lad and Nuklear Man were silent.

“Wait, I meant the opposites of all those things. Whew, close one, huh, guys? Imagine. Me, single-handedly tearing down the traditions of honor and trust built by the lawyering profession lo these hundreds of years. Dragging the good name of ‘Lawyer’ through the mud like that. Making observations about us which correlate directly to the criminal element. Heh, how very silly. Why, everyone knows the reputation lawyers have about being so honorable. It’s not like we haven’t earned it. I think I will stop talking now.”

Nuklear Man leaned to his ex-sidekick. “I’m starting to have second thoughts about our lawyer.”

“Oh really? Why, because he’s a
vampire?!
Or maybe because he’s dating the evil villain who is suing us? Or is it that his name happens to be
Count Insidious?!
Second thoughts?
Second
thoughts! I doubt that, personally, as it would imply an instance of
first
thoughts and I don’t see any evidence of that!”

“Ooh, look at you wield that legal jargon. I think you’ve found your calling, Sparky. Lord knows it wasn’t sidekickin’. But you’re young, you’ve still got time to correct your grievous life errors.”

“Shut up, you moron. The only hope for us now is that the jury is intelligent enough to see that our own lawyer is trying to get us convicted. Of course, the problem there is that juries are made of twelve people who are too stupid to get out of jury duty, so we’re probably doomed.”

“Ah, here they come now.” Count Insidious noted. “Try to look treacherous.”

“Treacherous?” Atomik Lad asked.

“Did I say treacherous? That’s so odd because what I meant to say was, um, treat…erous. Yes. As in the following statement: ‘Treaterous people are known for their generosity in the treat-giving.”

Atomik Lad was not fooled.

“Oh yeah. I’ve heard of that.”

“You see?” Count Insidious said. “Now hush, this is when we have to be all bloody. I mean serious.”

They watched as the jury began to file into their seats. “Um,” Atomik Lad whispered. “Why are they wearing Hawaiian shirts?”

“Hey, that one isn’t!” the Hero gleefully pointed out. “He’s wearin’ watches.”

“And that one’s glowing purple. Wait a second. Insidious, you put the entire Socially Maladjusted Over Villains Who Can’t Agree On A Name on our jury?! They’re villains. They
hate
us!”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. They know that their verdict is the final word in your fates, that they have ultimate power over your lives. Thus, being fully aware of the ramifications of their position, I’m sure they’ll be morally obligated to do the right thing.”

“Morally obligated? They. Are. Vil.
Lainnnnnns!”

“Don’t worry about it. They’re so biased, you don’t have a chance.”

“What?”

“Er, they don’t have a chance of being biased. Besides, I didn’t have much to work with. Jury selection was at 2 a.m.”

“Why?”

“Due to my photo-allergic inclinations.”

“Right.”

“Don’t worry, there’s only seven of them. I did much better on the other five. Look.”