10: I Need Somebody

Previously on And When Two Villains Woo, as Sam Superlative Jr. is seeking help from Professor Cthulhu in hiding Candystriper from the city’s superheroes, the Malevolent Med-Student is trying to unlock the secrets of thrudanium while under pressure from John Cute…

It was time, the Malevolent Med-Student decided, for a deus ex machina. A good supervillain always kept one or two things up his sleeve as a last resort, just in case the death beam jammed or the hero cut the right wire on the Sugar Plum Bomb, and he was no different. As he stared at the block of thrudanium in the secret lab John Cute had constructed for him, having exhausted every scientific technique and process he knew, the Malevolent Med-Student decided it was time for a shortcut. He reached for his cape and opened a secret pocket. Inside was a small spidery device, which he quickly attached to a nearby computer terminal. In an instant it unfolded and hotwired itself into the terminal, and in another instant the sound of an unearthly telephone rang through the lab. Then, a voice:

Hello, it said, this is the Oracle Incorporated Emergency Question Hotline, please hold.

The Malevolent Med-Student waited, as patiently as he could manage, for ten minutes. He knew the risks. He had planned for this eventuality. The last holder of the phone had lost his temper and blurted out “Oh my God, how long am I gonna have to wait?” It was his bad luck that the Hotline counted rhetoricals as interrogatory questions.

Finally, the Hotline clicked. An eerie voice spoke. Greetings. We are Oracle Incorporated. Please note that by continuing you accept the following terms: one question and only one question is allowed per caller. All subjects, formats, languages, and word choices are acceptable. Please be aware that the answer, while always precise, may not always be fully understood at the time of delivery, and may be interpretive or employ the use of metaphor. No follow-ups are allowed. No multi-part questions are allowed. No conditional questions are allowed. No clarification questions are allowed. You will have thirty seconds to prepare your question. Your thirty seconds begins now.

The Malevolent Med-Student thought as rapidly as he had ever thought before. He had known about the one question rule but had hoped he could get a few clarifications in; obviously that was out now. He would need to frame his question properly. What should he ask? What did he want? What did he really, really want? Why oh why couldn’t he stop that Spice Girls song from running rampant through his head right at the moment he so badly needed to concentrate-

The phone chimed softly. Please ask your question now.

The Malevolent Med-Student nearly choked. “What?”

That was the prompt indicating that your thirty seconds of preparatory time were over and it was time to provide your question. You have asked your question now. Thank you for calling Oracle Incorporated. Please do not call again. Goodbye.

The device sparked, untangled itself from the computer, and folded up neatly as a pin. The Malevolent-Med-Student stared at it in disbelief. He had bungled it. His one chance, and now it was gone. The worst of it was that he couldn’t even vent about his failure to Candystriper. That was half the fun of a henchperson, not just the technical assistance, the work, but the listening, the venting, the company, the audience. If you have no one to listen to your dramatic soliloquy, what’s the point of doing it?

Suddenly he knew. He didn’t need an oracle; he needed his henchperson. He needed Candystriper. He snatched up the Oracle-phone and a screwdriver. ‘Maybe I can’t call you again,” the Malevolent Med-Student said dramatically, “but with a bit of work, I can call someone else!”

There was no response, but this time he didn’t mind; when he had his minion back, he’d have all the response he needed.

---

“Hey, you sure about this? ‘Cause I’m, like, not,” Candystriper stage-whispered to Sam Superlative Jr. as they sat on an old battered sofa in what was, apparently, Professor Cthulhu’s living room. The walls were an unspeakable horror of beige and polyester, while mad shapes cavorted on the television. The Professor had burbled something about tea and disappeared into what Sam presumed was his (its?) kitchen.

“Yeah, but-” Sam began.

Quite suddenly there was a flash of blinding color and at first Sam thought Professor Cthulhu had returned with the tea but then Candystriper disappeared with a pop, and the next thing he knew Professor Cthulhu emanated in from the kitchen and moaned in disapproval. “Departing without farewell. Most impolite.”

“Sorry,” Sam managed, trying to understand what had just happened while still maintaining his sanity in the living room of Cthulhu. “I don’t think she meant to.”

“Mmm,” the Dread Professor said. “Tea?”

---

The Malevolent Med-Student had actually been worried his makeshift teleport would work, and so he was mightily relieved when a pop echoed in the lab and Candystriper appeared. “Excellent!” he said. “Now, we can get to work properly! First, I’ll need-”

“Hey! HEY!” Candystriper exclaimed, and for the first time in his working relationship with her the Malevolent Med-Student was taken aback.

“I was about to have ice cream!” she added. “With friends!” She had forgotten that she hadn’t been entirely sure about the experience; being violently teleported away without so much as a by-your-leave will do that.

“Friends?” the Malevolent Med-Student said. He tried to picture Candystriper with friends and came up with a total blank. “What friends? You have a job-”

“Had!” Candystriper said furiously. “Had! Because I quit! As in now! Take me out of here, robot arm!”

“When did you get a-” the Malevolent Med-Student began, even now not quite grasping what was about to happen. Candystriper’s robot arm fired up its thrusters and launched a volley of lasers at the secret lab’s ceiling. Within seconds she had blasted open a hole and flown right up, in, and out, screaming away into the sky, leaving the Malevolent Med-Student standing amidst crazy-flickering lights and falling debris wondering in some bewilderment what he had said wrong.