Yesterday's Heroes (Consortium of Chaos Book 1) (51 page)

I find myself stuck here all cranky and tired

And forced to stand here in my best stage attire

Being told to perform for you goddamn liars

I don’t like it here and I want to go home.

I feel that I must make a shameful confession,

For I’m looking for ways to now vent all my
aggression

And dammit a good song could help my depression

I bet if I simply kill you then I can go home.

I. Hate. You. All.

And I hate you all.

And….I….hate…..you……all.

I’m hell on this fiddle, I’m glad it’s allowed.

I. Hate. You. All.

And I hate you all.

And….I….hate…..you……all.

You’re hearing your last song, and that is a vow.

And as you lay, broken and battered beneath me

You’ll beg and whine and cry and beseech me

“Please, Sir!  Have mercy! Have mercy!  Release
me!”

But I won’t fucking care, cause I want to go home.

My song’s almost done; the crowd is on its feet

My kicking your ass, has sure been a real treat

You pissed me off, thus you’ll die here on this
street

Hope you liked your death, because I’m going home

I. Hate. You. All.

And I hate you all.

And….I….hate…..you……all.

I’ll kill you and into hell you will crowd.

I. Hate. You. All.

And I hate you all.

And….I….hate…..you……all.

This fight’s already over, you’ll soon take your
bow!

And then you’ll find me, so far from kindhearted

As I complete the job which I previously started

From this alleyway your corpse then will be carted

I’ll melt your fucking brain, and then I can go
home

I’ve already won, laughing straight into your face

I’m at the finish; you just started in the race

Only at failure and dying could you ever take first
place

I’m the best there is, and I want to go home

 I. Hate. You. All.

And I hate you all.

And….I….hate…..you……all.

This tune’s not a jig; it’s a dirge.  So, CIAO!

I. Hate. You. All.

And I hate you all.

And….I….hate…..you……all.

I’m going to kill you, right FUCKING NOW!!!

As the song progressed, Varmit
looked like he was in more and more pain.  When it reached its conclusion, he fell
off of her and hit the ground screaming, blood pouring from his ears.  His body
started convulsing, foam pouring from his mouth.  His skin began darkening and
cracking like it was on fire.  He let out a shrill anguished cry, as he was
cooked alive from the inside out.  His back arched, smoke rose from his open mouth
and then he went limp.  His bloodshot eyes were now fixed and forever staring at
nothing.

Troubadour took several bows to his
imaginary listeners, lit another cigarette and took a long drag.  “Hope you
enjoyed the show; you were a great audience.”  He flicked it out at the body lying
at his feet.  “Drive safe.”

Holly frowned, still trying to
catch her breath.  She glared at her musically inclined rescuer.  “
Jingle-FUCKING-bells
,
Gabe!  Think maybe you could have chosen a LONGER goddamn song to use!?!  Played
him an all fiddle cover of
Stairway to Heaven
or
Inna-Gadda-Da-Vida
or something!  It took you forever!”  She straightened her Santa hat.  “Plus, you’re
totally slipping.  I recognized that tune.  You can’t just lift other people’s
work like that.  
USED
to be that you’d write something new for every
criminal scheme, and
now
you’re just going to start plagiarizing someone
else’s music?  Some composer
YOU
are.  I mean, I know we’re super-villains
and all, but
damn
.  That’s
really
cheating.”

He sighed and pulled out the fiddle
again, continuing his song where he left off.  His words were faster now; the
bow moving rapidly over the instrument.

Washer Woman’s the name of the song you are hearing

It’s public domain, an old tune quite appealing

Please give it a rest, and stop with the jeering

Hurray.  You’re alive.  And now I want to go home.

Not like it mattered which arrangement that I chose

He was going to die and then decompose.

You’re far prettier Holly when you keep your mouth
closed

Move your Christmas themed ass cause I want to go
home!

Let’s just go home!

Let’s just go home!

Let’s.  Just. Go.  Home.

I don’t want to fight heroes; I want to go home.

Let’s just go home!

Let’s just go home!

Let’s.  Just. Go.  Home.

The world can
save itself cause I want to go home!

She watched him a second longer,
they pulled herself to her feet.  “Well…I still think it’s cheating.  But it
could be worse, I suppose.  At least you’re not dressed like a renaissance
mistral anymore.  That was just
embarrassing
.  You’re new Rat Pack look
is kinda hot, but that old getup?  Hell.  We’d be fighting the heroes, and
halfway through the battle, I’d look at you wearing that, and then *
I’D*
feel like kicking your ass.  Little curly shoes?  Really, Gabe?  Were you drunk
or something?  I mean, I
LIKED
the orange tights…a lot, in fact…but
other than that…”

His eyes narrowed at her criticisms. 
The song continued and she was amazed that he was able to get the words out
even faster now.  It was a steady stream of lyrics; the bow moving so rapidly
it was getting hard to see.

You know discussing old costumes, I find that I do adore

I’m thrilled you keep records, of stupid things
that I wore

It’s just highly ironic, given the garments which you
opt for

I’m getting fashion advice from ‘Santa’s
lil’ whore’

Not that you’ll find that I stand here complaining

I find all of your outfits, oh so entertaining

That red velvet is skintight, gifts barely restraining

It really highlights all the weight you’ve been
gaining.

Her eyes narrowed.  “Insult me if
you must, but NO ONE insults the suit, Gabe.  Okay?  NO ONE!”  She paused. 
“Hey, you know any Christmas songs?”

He rolled his eyes and then
strolled down the alley to look for more action.  Bastard.  He TOTALLY knew
Christmas songs, she could feel it.  He was holding out on her.  He just wasn’t
in touch with the magic of the season.

*******

Undercurrent finishing singing her
rendition of the Pokemon theme song, and stepped over some debris.  “God, I
love
that song.”

Vaudeville sighed.  They had been
put in charge of finding…someone.  Cory didn’t remember WHO exactly, and it
didn’t really matter.  Hell, Cory didn’t even know who HE was, so it wasn’t
surprising that he wasn’t sure who his enemies were exactly.  Besides, there
were
more
than enough heroes to go around.  Or at least, there SHOULD
have been.  He hadn’t actually seen any of his other teammates, or any of the heroes
they were fighting, for several blocks now.  “I think we’re going the wrong
way.”  He looked over his shoulder in an effort to find a landmark.  “No, I
think we’re supposed to be heading towards the docks.”

Undercurrent stopped her excited
talking with Gurrier, and glanced back at him.  “I TOLD you, I know where we’re
going.  We’re not lost, are we Hazard?”

Hazz nodded.  “Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “Don’t listen
to him.  I was put in charge of this team, and
I’ll
lead the way.”

“I don’t recall you ever being put
in charge of the team.”  Vaudeville shook his head.  “Or anything else for that
matter.  No loving God would allow that kind of catastrophe to befall us.”

“Well, then you weren’t paying
attention. 
HAZZ
remembers me being put in charge, don’t you Hazz?”

The larger man’s eyes scanned the
interior of a building as they passed by.  “No.”  He answered matter-of-factly.

She readjusted her construction
hat.  “Well, I am. 
I’m
team leader.”

Hazard shrugged.  “Whatever.”

She beamed.  “Super!  Now, where
was I?  Oh yes…anyway, so Team Rocket is walking along the road and they find a
poster with a picture that looks JUST like
James!
”

Gurrier nodded and glanced down an
alleyway, obviously paying very little attention to her words.  “Uh-huh.”

“…So, they go into town and find
out that James’ parents have died and that he is due a large inheritance….”

“Uh-huh.”

“…But it turns out that that they
aren’t
dead, and that it’s all a plot to get him to marry his former fiancé,
Jessibelle!  Who looks just like Jessie, if you can believe that!  I mean JUST
like her!  And then she tries to kidnap him!  But he belongs with Jessie, not
this new girl!  He’d never leave her, no matter what his parents say!  You and
I BOTH know that he’d never abandon Team Rocket!”

Gurrier’s eyes scanned the
roofline, still searching for their quarry.  “No, never.”

“…So James has to join up with Ash
and his friends in order to save himself and be reunited with Jessie and Meowth.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know, right!  Anyway, it’s
definitely my favorite episode of season one.  Really gives some great
backstory on James and his relationship with Jessie.  They have this really
beautiful moment at the end when Jessie thinks that James chose to stay with
Jessibelle instead of Team Rocket, but then he shows up and they hold hands and
it’s just…”  She made a small squealing sound of excitement and clasped her gloved
hands together at the thought.  “Anyway, you should totally watch it.  Oh my
gosh!  I can’t
BELIEVE
you’re a Poke fan and haven’t seen it yet!  We’ll
watch it as soon as we get home!”

“Uh-huh.”

She pointed through a window of a
store as she passed by.  “Oh!  Look!  I’m going to go into the store for a
minute, ‘kay?  Be right back!”

“Uh-huh.”

She ran off and Vaudeville turned
to Gurrier.  “So…what the hell was our fearless leader talking about, man?”

Hazard shrugged.  “No clue.  Some
cartoon or something.”

The man apparently realized it was
often easier to just let her talk, than to ask what she was talking
about
. 
The reaction was typical of those dealing with Stacy.  She was annoying and was
nowhere NEAR the most powerful in the C of C, but that girl had a way of always
getting her way, somehow.  Even her brothers treated her with an equal mixture
of overprotectiveness and outright fear. 

Cory wasn’t exactly sure what it
was they thought she could do to them exactly, but it was a fear he shared, so
he wasn’t throwing stones.  She walked all over her brothers because they were
too afraid of her to risk it, and so they tried to avoid her whenever they
possibly could.  Namely, whenever they could pass off the duty of watching her
to someone else.  Case in point, the fact that Hazz and he were on her “team,”
and her brothers had fled her company the first chance they got.  Lucky
bastards.

Stacy came running back out of the
store carrying a bag of snacks.  She held them up in excitement.  “Look! 
Cheesy puffs!”  She tore the bag open and began shoveling them into her mouth. 
“These things are awesome.”

The owner of the store came running
out carrying a shotgun.  “Hey!  You can’t just take those!”

She wiped her hands on her overalls
and turned to face him.  “Relax.  We’re
heroes
.  You probably just don’t
recognize us because of the media’s bias against us.  But despite what you may
have heard, we’re like law enforcement types, and they
always
eat for
free.  It’s like a thank you for all we do for you guys.  We’re protecting you
from the
actual
villains, who are actually the
heroes
.  …Which
sounds weird I know, but I don’t know how else to describe it, because
strangely, that’s what the media calls them, even though they’re OBVIOUSLY the
villains
. 
Besides, I was going to give you the money just as soon as I borrowed it from
Hazz.”

The man didn’t look convinced.  Not
that Cory could blame him.  Personally, he didn’t understand Stacy’s lifelong
insistence that the Consortium was a heroic organization either.  The
shopkeeper brought the gun to bear, cutting her off.  “I said; you owe me
$2.25.”

Vaudeville shook his head in
disbelief.  “There’s an epic battle going on, a doomsday device being
activated, it’s pouring rain, and now he’s going to pull a gun on THREE
super-villains because one of them took a bag of
chips?
”  He gestured to
the man.  “Who
IS
this guy?  Where’s his head at?  Straight up gangsta
move, but also possibly the stupidest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.  I don’t
know whether to hit him or ask to shake his hand.”

Gurrier stepped between the
shopkeeper and Stacy, and looked down at the gun.  He reached a hand out to
grab the barrel and pressed it against the center of his chest.  “Mister,
you’re really going to have to think long and hard on how serious you are about
getting that money.”  He leaned down, trying to meet the man eye to eye, but still
towered over him.  “See…I’m
real
serious about this.  In fact, I’m
willing to
kill you
if it means that the girl keeps her cheese puffs. 
So, what you need to decide is, if you’re willing to
die
for them
.”