13: Cracks
Previously on We’re Not in Edison City Anymore, Mr Superlative has sought out ex-wizard Eugene Flem, also known as Vencentus the Mighty, in an attempt to change time and resurrect Sam Superlative Jr.! Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Captain Happily Married, the Malevolent Med-Student, and friends are still celebrating their defeat of John Cute, unaware of this new development! We rejoin them just as they’re about to find out (because they are, naturally), but first a commercial word!
Captain Happily Married and the others had gone through several rounds of celebratory fountain drinks at the hospital cafeteria by now, and the post-battle discussion was beginning to lag a bit. It was getting late, and one or two of the capes were beginning to think they should head home.
“So…” the Wombat said, trying to think of something to say to wrap things up, “You think Cute’ll be back?”
“Hey, I’m right here,” the Malevolent Med-Student said before he could stop himself. Gaseous Girl, who wasn’t familiar with all the details but knew that something had gone on between Meg Atomic and the Malevolent Med-Student, snort-laughed so hard she vaporized her entire cup into bubbly Coke steam. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I really am,” she said, then hurried off for a refill, still chortling.
An awkward silence descend in her wake. Meg found herself looking anywhere but over at the Malevolent Med-Student. She was still trying to work out how to deal with this new situation: it wasn’t every day that your family teamed up with your supervillain ex-boyfriend and everybody was okay with that. (Then again, had he really been her boyfriend to start with, never mind ex? After all, they’d only had two dates and a kiss, and- but Meg decided not to think about that. Things were awkward enough as it was, and she’d already been through a time loop and a bad alternate future trying to sort out the aftermath of her breakup.)
The Malevolent Med-Student mentally kicked himself. Of all the stupid ordinary civilian things to say, he had to go and say that. What had he been thinking? What he’d been doing was fraternizing with the enemy, was what he was doing. What he ought to do now was blast them all with Pharma-Death Beams and then sweep away into the night, exultant in his sudden betrayal! His fingers twitched by his side. Oh, he remembered, but Candystriper was still upstairs and the Malpracticycle was in the parking garage. If he left now, particularly as dramatically as he’d been planning, he’d only have to come right back again, and then he’d have to explain or pay for the damage or some such thing, and it really wasn’t worth all the trouble anyway. He shrugged. Ah, well, once Candystriper recovered, he could go back to the work again. There was still the Soul-Sucking Scope-O-Sadness, after all.
“Well,” Captain Happily Married said, rising and adjusting his cape, “On that note…” He had hoped to covertly send the signal to the others that it was time to mosey on home, as it were. Before anyone could follow up on this, however, an announcement came over the hospital PA. “Dr. Shuster, code blue, 543, Dr. Shuster, code blue…”
Super Soccer Mom looked up towards the sound of the intercom. “543, that’s-”
The Malevolent Med-Student was already sprinting for the elevators. The others started to follow but the Green Moth froze. “Not again,” she said, her face twisting in anguish. '“Not again, not again, not again…”
Gaseous Girl made a snap decision. “Cap, you and your people go upstairs, we’ll handle this.” Captain Happily Married nodded; there seemed no time to argue. As the group split apart, Gaseous Girl turned to the Green Moth. “What’s going on?” she said.
The Green Moth looked more terrified than they had ever seen her, which was not good at all. “They’re breaking it.”
“Breaking what?” the Wombat said.
“Time.”
“Okay,” Vencentus the Mighty said, fully aware that Mr. Superlative’s glowering stare could at any moment turn bright red and burn him into ashes. “Here we go.” He braced himself, and reached out with all the magical power he had for the nearest ley line. “Mutatio temp-”
“Is that Latin?” said Mr. Superlative. “Look, pal, if all this stuff is just Latin, I can do it myself. Why do I need you?”
“You interrupted the words!” said Vencentus in horror. “You can’t do that, you shouldn’t do that, it’s an extremely intricate process-”
“Oh, please, I took Latin in grade school,” Mr. Superlative said. “You’re just saying “change time”, right?” Fine. Allow me.” He had been sitting down; now he rose and with all the volume he could muster (which was quite a lot, given his super-strength, boomed out a tremendous “Mutatio temporis!”
BOOM.
The explosion knocked Mr. Superlative and Vencentus the Mighty clear across the street, disintegrated the flower shop into a mess of splinters and petals, and sent a cloud spiraling high into the air. Worse, the cloud pulsed an eerie shade of mauve.
Candystriper opened her eyes to find that all was darkness again. “Oh, come on, really?” Candystriper said. “I thought we did the whole maybe dead maybe not bit!”
“Uh, yeah, doy, just ‘cause you didn’t die last time doesn’t mean you can’t not die now,” said a voice. “You’re not, like, immortal, y’know.”
“Okay, wait, wait, wait, hold up!” Candystriper exclaimed.
“I mean we could try immortal, but, y’know, there’s probably some catches and what-not, contractual stuff, and you might have to-”
“Wait,” Candystriper said, in a slightly different tone, “I can do immortal?”
“Hey, babe, we can do anything,” the voice assured her. “I just gotta make a call-”
“Oh no you do not!” a second voice broke in. “You so do not get to trick us into selling our like immortal soul for immortality when you can’t even-”
“Actually,” a third voice said, “Strictly speaking given the established parameters of the free will proviso one could argue that said entity is obligated to at least make the attempt albeit said attempt-”
“Everybody shut up!” Candystriper cut in. “Now, Evil Me I know, and Angel Me, but who the heck are you?”
The third voice coughed. “I’m, er, your legal self. The part of your personality that wanted to be a lawyer but submerged when you went into medicine and then mad science instead. I haven’t been out for a while.”
“Oooh, do we all get to have a turn?” a fourth voice said in a tone that should’ve been accompanied by a saxophone and dim lights in a dingy bar. “Because some of us haven’t gotten a turn in ages and we really wanna-”
“I said, shut up!” Candystriper yelled; she had to yell, as a number of her inner selves had just started a kickline, metaphysical synchronization and all. “I swear, if one more of me says a single word I will just die right here and now, you got it?”
“Sure thing, babe,” her evil self said.
The darkness got darker.
Note: I am not actually a coffee drinker. I tried it once in a Starbucks kiosk and in the break room from a vending machine during my college job at UPS: results not promising. That said, I solemnly swear that any and all monies spent on the “Buy Me a Coffee” button are not only sincerely appreciated but will also be spent on some sort of alternative liquid refreshment. Probably Mello Yello, because that stuff’s the bomb.
"The darkness got darker." OH NO.
Noooo! I was not ready for that last line! 😱😭