The Cumin Saga (PG-13) [Part 2 of 9]
Title: The Cumin Saga: The Coin Wash Menace
Author: hypercaz
Rating: PG-13, only to be safe
Pairing/Characters: Moist, Penny, Dr Horrible, Billy/Penny, Johnny Snow, Captain Hammer, Splendour/Wanda Plenn, Professor Normal
Genre: humour/action/drama/angst/general/pie
Word count: 5038
Summary: 5th in the Cumin Doesn't Quack universe (i.e. Billy and Penny began dating a few weeks before the webisodes).
Moist finds himself in the company of three heroes who aren't entirely convinced that they should help him.
AN: minor crossover is also present in this chapter.
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Look at me, man. I’m Moist. I mean, at my most badass I make people feel like they want to take a shower. I’m not ELE material.
- Moist, Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
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The Coin Wash Menace
ACT II - A Web of Copper Wiring
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moist woke to rain coursing down his forehead, his cheeks, his clavicle, his chest and down down to his toes. He knew what it meant, of course, but he kept his eyes shut and willed away reality for a few more seconds. His tongue flapped about his lips, already wet with tears lost in the flow that had never left him since one night alone with a faulty humidifier.
“You're not in the ELE, are you?” probed the woman's voice from nearby.
“No.”
I was, he thought defiantly. Even though his seat had long been held by the probably more deserving assassin Gemini (two-headed and two-armed, with neither head claiming a separate identity), and even though he had left with his shoulders pressed by guilt (shared though it had been with Billy), it was a matter of pride. The seat had been wrapped in thick plastic and the floor wiped by aspiring Reinfields whenever the moisture had begun to pool around his feet. The ELE catered for its members' little quirks. Real life - not so much.
“Henchmen's Union?”
Moist smiled vaguely and opened his eyes to see someone prettier to wake up to than a creator of mutant zombies. Her brown hair was knotted into two bundles either side of her head and her eyes were a warm and deep green but the kind smile she gave him was as false as the cheerful blue fabric still slapped tight to her torso. Moist chose to shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah. Are you Splendour?”
“The costume kind of gives it away, huh. So why aren't you in the ELE with that kind of power?”
“It just kind of happened,” he replied, baffled, then something more important occurred to him. “Professor Normal! Is he...did he...”
Did he escape, wriggle free, run amok, all of the above? Moist was sure anyone would have thought this after the strange few minutes he'd had lying on the floor of the laundromat - which is where he wasn't, he realised with a jolt. In fact, his back wasn't throbbing against the coarse-grained glass but snuggled on entirely welcome couch cushions. It was a good deal more comfortable than the scowl that broke through the smile on the woman's face.
“We've locked him up in the Heroes Guild's brig,” Splendour allowed. “The police won't know what to do with him.”
“Okay,” said Moist, unconvinced. “That gives us a head start, I guess.”
“Head start?” the heroine prompted.
Moist sealed his eyelids again and thought about the inevitable phone call he had to make to the Evil League of Evil's headquarters to give the villains the head start they would need against an extremely put-out Professor Normal. If Moist guessed correctly, it would not be enough for the Professor to take the mantle of leader - he would probably zombify all the current members out of spite.
But this meant delivering his report to Dr Horrible. Moist wasn't sure how to feel about his old friend. Disbelief was a forerunner, but anger and terror surfaced most often.
“Henchman, remember,” Moist deflected as he focused on the lime green kitchen unit behind Splendour.
Moist guessed he wasn't badass enough to be taken to the Guild along with Professor Normal. Judging by his surrounds, the heroes had taken him back to one of their apartments. No Ice Beams were present, but that didn't mean anything. His eyes travelled back to Splendour's face.
“Professor Normal is a villain,” she was saying. “I figured anyone on your side would have a lot in common. World domination, looting, plundering... murdering children.”
Moist jerked violently and rolled off the lounge.
“Did I touch a nerve?” Splendour asked coldly.
“That was three years ago and it wasn't me, it was Dr Horrible,” he gasped into the floor.
She crouched beside him, a genuine puzzled frown tweaking her lips into a less angular line. “What are you talking about? You're just a henchman.”
Moist gritted his teeth. “I wasn't then, okay? Am I a prisoner or can I go and...”
“Give your precious Doctor a head start?” Splendour supplied. “Well, see I don't particularly mind where you snivel off to but Johnny wants to interrogate you.”
“What's Captain Hammer going to do?” Moist asked curiously.
She winced and her eyes went skyward - that was all the answer Moist needed. He'd thought the ray must have humiliated or even stripped powers from Hammer - but never did he expect that it kept him invincible while giving him the due pain to each wound.
“Yeah, he's not looking good these days is he...” Moist mused.
“And the thing that upsets him most is losing his groupies.”
Both laughed, then halted immediately when they realised their companionable moment.
“It wasn't hard for him to lose his groupies when everyone saw him fail to stop Dr Horrible from killing a child,” Splendour rejoined, ice shooting from every word. “Duly Park Massacre, anyone?”
Since 'massacre' would require more than one child, Moist felt indignant but the ache spreading through his left and right ventricles silenced his correction. He sat on the couch and bent over his knees. He once again pined for religion, because praying would have been the next step. Breaths wended their way into his lungs and out again.
His inactivity must have bored the heroine - or else she had sensed his pain and wished to scrub salt into it - because she walked away and tapped on a door, asking for her companion. Johnny Snow, all freckles and accountant's wrinkles though barely older than his supposed archnemesis, stomped over and poked a miniature Ice Beam (more like a pen or a laser pointer) into the tip of Moist's nose.
Moist sighed. “Let me save you guys the trouble. Our side didn't even know that Professor Normal was alive - or undead, I guess. I'm not really sure. He's probably a little pissed off.”
“He's not the only one,” Johnny grated. “What's so important about you that Normal decided you were numerus unus on his hit list?”
Splendour interrupted with a stage whisper, “Numero uno, Johnny. We discussed this.”
“It's Roman!” Johnny said hotly.
“No it's La... oh I give up. I'll be getting a cup of joe for Hammer.”
Johnny Snow decided to make up for his companion's exit by flicking the mini-Ice Beam between his long, pianist fingers faster than eyes could follow, then he affected a mean expression on his face. The weedy squeak that escaped him the next moment was fast and barely discernible. “Answer the questions, henchman!”
Moist stared at him. “Is that your interrogation voice? It sucks, man.”
“You suck!”
“Caudex es,” taunted Moist.
“Stultissimus sum!” hurled back Johnny.
The head of the Henchmen's Union smirked. “Yeah um... 'sum' means 'I am', remember?”
The wannabe hero made good use of words beginning with S and F.
“Dammit!” screamed Splendour as she marched back in, Captain Hammer cowering behind her. “Professor Normal escaped. He had an army of those walking corpses bust him out. I don't know how he told them where the Guild was...they would have blindfolded him, too, so for starters he wouldn't have known where to send them...”
“He knows a lot of things,” Moist pointed out, mulling over Professor Normal's choice to attack the laundromat.
The heroes all looked at him.
“Like, um, where the Guild is,” he amended.
Captain Hammer's eyes, having scanned him with moral disinterest, shifted after a moment and he stared at Moist as though seeing him anew. “I know you. I know you, don't I? I don't forget a face, especially the face of evil. You were with Dr Horrible at Duly Park.”
“Henchman, remember?”
“No, you were doing your own thing. I remember because I wondered what a slimy specimen of the human race, such as yourself, was doing with your own posse of henchmen.”
Moist's tenuous position with the heroes suddenly dipped to dire. He coughed. “Um. That was a long time ago.”
Splendour's expression went from cautiously pessimistic to downright murderous.
“You are in the ELE,” she accused.
“Duhhh!” exclaimed Johnny.
Moist found himself smiling, though what he really wanted to do was cry. “Three years ago, I retired. I do normal stuff now. Like newsletters. And laundry...”
The smile took on a life of its own as Moist recalled the afternoon he had agreed to help Billy move a disastrous present into the ELE headquarters with a view to appeasing them. They'd barely plugged in the piece of machinery when they heard a bang. Running into the meeting room, they'd found piles of ash instead of League members. Dr Horrible had seized the opportunity. Only Moist, Billy and Penny knew about that afternoon. Dr Horrible's ascension had been faked and, Moist now suspected, based on the work of another evil genius. He was more astute than Billy had ever given him credit for.
“But none of this answers why Professor Normal went after you...” Splendour reminded him. “Or where he'd go next - and that's more important than ever now.”
“My apartment maybe,” Moist pondered out loud. “I used to live in the apartment next door, right, not that it's really an apartment. More of a box than anything. But I moved in for...a friend. Or Professor Normal'd go for Pe...for innocent bystanders, because he's evil like that. I can't really help unless you let me go. And I'll just ruin your couch. But um...I want to help you. I don't like people dying.”
Once upon a time, it had sounded alright to kill a child in Iowa.
Moist shook his head and continued, “It was kind of my fault too, the Duly Park thing. I think it was anyway. I want to make it right.”
“You think you can ever give that family their daughter back and make it right?” Johnny demanded incredulously.
Captain Hammer moaned and sank to the floor. Splendour laid a hand on his shoulder, her green eyes having turned flinty when faced with Moist's confession.
“No,” Moist replied flatly. “But I can save another little girl. If you'll let me.”
The silence invited an explanation.
Moist hesitated. “It's, um, not my story to tell. I think, though, that Professor Normal knows what I know and that's not good. Who would you rather running the ELE - Dr Horrible or Professor Normal?”
Captain Hammer's cheeks hollowed into a pale green. Johnny Snow spluttered.
Wanda Plenn relented.
“I have this old friend,” she began with a slow smile. “He has a habit of picking up strays with pasts. If there's anything I've learnt from all him, it's that people who want to change, can change. Henchman, whoever you are, I think I believe you. And when it comes to good and evil, I don't think it matters right now - because if you have the means to save a life, then I am on your side.”
“But he's evil,” Captain Hammer said, louder than anyone expected of him. “And his little sob story, I'm not buying it. And St Peter won't buy it when I send you to meet him either.”
“More death allegories,” Johnny noted in disgust. “Don't you ever think of anything cheerful? Okay, Splendour, but if he does anything evil, I get to freeze his genitalia and shatter them. Sound fair, henchman?”
Moist openly stared at him, his bottom lip dropping low enough to reveal teeth. “You're kidding me, right? Okay, maybe you're not kidding.”
“You could be using your power for good,” Splendour suggested. “I didn't get the flying thing until I left college so I can understand if this is a little weird.”
“It's probably just a fluke anyway.”
“Do you want it to be a fluke?”
“Uh, no,” Moist replied, frowning as he become aware of a sticky sensation behind his nasal passages.
Hammer's ankles shot up in the air as he slipped on a soggy patch of tacky chartreuse linoleum. He still managed to crook his middle finger above the other four on his left hand mid-fall onto his backside - a gesture that no one missed. Johnny swiftly ducked to the floor and centred himself, glaring up at the guilty party.
Moist circled the palm of his hand over his nose vigorously. “What? I can't help it. Well, maybe I could have - that time,” Moist added quietly for Splendour's benefit.
Wanda Plenn smoothed her grin over with two fingers. Then she reminded herself that this sweaty little man had partially owned up to the responsibility of killing a five-year-old and resumed glaring down at him, though not as potently as she had been.
“What's your name?” she asked.
“Exactly what I am,” he said, walking to the door, not caring if they followed him or offered directions to the nearest payphone. “Moist.”
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Dispatching twenty or so zombies must have seemed quite the unequivocal task for the inferior heroes for them to assume that there would be no others roaming and awaiting just the right electronic signal to spiral into their brains from devices hooked into their ears. Professor Normal would have smiled if he wasn't in Imitation Mode. How they had laughed at him, the Evil League of Evil, when he had unveiled his plans for mutant zombies. How oblivious they had been when he had started gathering skin fragments, wayward strands of hair and other distasteful samples!
Five years of being locked out of the ELE headquarters by amateurs and five years of eking out his work in a disused mental hospital had merely fanned his desire to strike back at the imposter. That time had not been wasted on foolish pursuits - no, he had also discovered the location of those fabled heroes and had fed this information into his children, knowing that they would one day need to know where to find him.
The heroes had given him a chair in a bland grey-walled room. Professor Normal, spine straight and lips flatlining, had perched in the seat and barely said two words to anyone while he occupied it. Nary a twitch was seen on him when the wall caved in at his feet. One of the zombies prostrated there on the immaculate beige floor tiles, which was probably due to it throwing its fetid body at the wall, but it was exactly the kind of response that Normal anticipated for his moments of glory.
Delicately lining up his forefingers and thumbs with the ends of his electronic sideburns, he straightened the device with the aid of memory instead of a reflection. He ignored the flaccid arm that one of his creations lopped out at him in an imitation of offering a helping hand and coasted out through the foyer of the Guild. The bodies of heroes and zombies splattered the floor and the sound of another frenzied battle echoed from nearby.
“I require a vehicle,” Professor Normal announced.
The blank stares of his minions took a moment to register with the villain. Shrugging, he performed a quick dip as he walked for the exit, pilfering the wad of keys (and a few hairs) belonging to a downed hero dressed in canary yellow offset with a blue belt. After stowing the precious DNA sample, Professor Normal triumphantly exited the building and stabbed at the unlock button on the chunky car key. He peered around and repeated this trick several times until he found the black people-carrier. Excellent.
His posse fell in behind him. The groaning and wailing was tedious but necessary, he reminded himself as he attempted to start the car.
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See-sawing his body over the edge of the car window, Moist lunged once more for the payphone and smashed two fingers into the last number. The whole exercise was then made entirely useless when his soaked shirt slipped and then dumped him into a pile of limbs and assorted curses on the ground. At least the phone cord gave and stretched to accommodate the direction change.
“I'll need to make another call,” Moist spoke up while the ring tone began in his left ear. “Can I get some more change?”
The remaining occupants of the pastel khaki car comprised of his would-be rescuers and gaolers and a pair of fluffy pink dinosaurs hanging from the rear view mirror. Captain Hammer, arranged into the cramped space of the backseat with his knees jabbing hard into his chest, shook his head mutely. The driver, however, rummaged through the glovebox for his learner's permit in a cunning pre-emptive strike against any police who happened to notice the slowly melting black ice trailing behind the parked car (a misfire from the converted tailpipe, apparently) and gave no indication that he'd heard the question.
Splendour rested her underarms on the edge of her open window, peering out at Moist. “I'm running out of silver.” She threw her head back in. “Johnny? You have anything?”
“I already told you I don't have any credit!” the boyish hero snapped.
“Yes, we'd like to be using your cell phone and you really should get on a plan,” she said flatly. “You also need to learn how not to mount the kerb. But I just want some coins to help out our new friend here.”
“Will these help?” Captain Hammer offered, passing over a handful of junk he'd rifled for and found in the cracks of the seat beneath him.
Wanda hesitantly pinched the rounder-shaped objects from his palm, neatly avoiding something long, damp and soiled. Flattening her hand, she counted through the coins and selected three quarters before flicking them out the window. They ended their journey on Moist's ribs, which would have hurt more if he wasn't engrossed in attempting to communicate across a web of copper wires.
On the second shrill ring, the phone was dutifully answered by the Evil League of Evil's automated service which was gifted with a voice too chirpy, harried and androgynous for Moist's liking. He narrowed his eyes in concentration.
“If you think you have even a fraction of the evil required to apply for the Evil League of Evil, please visit the website and follow the prompts. If you have somehow dialled the wrong number and wish to order pizza, press one. If you have received a death threat from the ELE, stop delaying the inevitable and pay the money required. If you would like to speak to a human being or another carbon-based life form press two. If you have swallowed dishwashing detergent by mistake or by misadventure...”
Moist pressed the worn and weathered number two on the phone and briefly wondered if he wasn't the only one to perform an abrupt, skidded stop beside it for exactly this reason.
“You don't want pizza, I take it. Evil League of Evil, how may I be of disservice?” a bored, gravelly voice enquired.
“I need to speak to Dr Horrible,” Moist tried.
Rough, hacking coughs exploded out of the receiver, punctuated by an attempt to regain breath that sounded like a jet engine warming up. “Dr Horrible is unavailable for comment but a press release has been issued in the usual channels.”
“No, I mean, I really need to speak to him,” Moist said, raising his eyes to catch the heroes all staring at him unblinkingly. He was reminded eerily of the plastic sheep figurines (and their white, pupil-free eyes) that his mother kept in a cupboard. “This is an emergency.”
“Did you try 911?”
“Uh, no?” Moist was honestly stumped by that one. “No - wait - this is to do with Captain Hammer. Right. Captain Hammer is back and he wants a word...I mean, a showdown with Dr Horrible.”
The corporate tool popped open his mouth in protest. Wanda reached back and slapped a hand over his mouth, cautioning, “You still have your powers, Hammer, so start acting like it!”
“But it might hurt,” he complained.
“Oh it will,” promised Johnny Snow, glaring back at him.
Splendour sighed. “Johnny, I'm trying to help his self-confidence. You might try saying something nice.”
“Why would I do that?” Snow demanded. “If he ever gets his pain-free thing back, then he'll just go back to making fun of me.”
Hammer shook his head vehemently, but he probably would have forced Wanda's hand away very quickly if he'd heard the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Captain Hammer is incapacitated,” the ELE pleb informed Moist.
“Professor Normal attacked a laundromat and now he's after...after...the head of the Henchmen's Union!” Moist spouted.
“Professor Normal is dead.”
The heel of Moist's palm met his forehead and squelched. He muttered, “I don't think I have time for this. Tell Dr Horrible that Penny and Billie are in danger and that a...reanimated rabbit has them.”
“A what?”
“Uh, you'll figure it out.” Moist hesitated and considered telling the disembodied voice that he was attempting to use cloak and dagger and codewords. He shook his head at such folly and pulled himself up, slipping all the way, to hang up the phone.
“The League's uh...delayed,” he announced lamely.
The car thudded as Johnny slapped the driver's side. Plastic and metal cracked ominously down the left of the car's frame as the temperature plummeted. Splendour titled her eyes up through the roof to sky, possibly searching for some sense among the deep royal blue that usually settled in during dusk. Captain Hammer rubbed his bare arms vigorously, but wisely kept his complaints to himself.
Finally, Johnny snapped his hand back inside the car and snorted. “Well, duh. Why should they bother helping? Chaos and riots are just the kind of things they'd enjoy.”
Ignoring him, Moist bent over and scooped up the quarters. He fed them into the phone and punched his own number, though only after several long seconds of tracking Penny through a map in his mind's eye that was shaped a lot like New Zealand.
She answered the phone in three rings. “Hello? Moist?”
Moist's fingers slid dangerously close to the cradle and nearly disconnected the call. He whispered frenetically, “Penny, what are you doing there?”
“I'm waiting for you,” Penny answered calmly, as though it was entirely normal for her to hide at the apartment rented out by the head of the Henchmen's Union and even more normal for Moist to guess where she'd be. “Are you okay?”
Twisting the cord around his fingers, Moist eyed his companions whose bickering was subsiding enough that they could probably hear him. He shrugged. “Yeah. Look, I've got heroes with me and I can't say a lot. Professor Normal knows, Pen. He knows about you. Maybe even about...socky.”
There was a pause as Penny decoded what he meant. Another pause followed as both tried to convince themselves silently that there was no way the villain could have found out about Billie.
“I thought I saw him in the street but I hoped...” Penny's voice became guarded. “So he's not dead.”
Moist propped up his arm behind his head, wedging himself into the corner to keep from sliding down. He explained, “He kind of killed the ELE. This means he's badass enough to kill Bad Horse and we're not even in the same league - literally, huh.”
“Professor Normal...that actually makes sense,” Penny said levelly. “Well, more than the washing machine thing.”
“Pen, I think you need to get out of there,” Moist told her urgently.
“Should I go to my place, because it's a little way across town and I don't have a lot of cash on me for a cab...and Billie hasn't had her nap...”
If Moist had possessed a fraction of Captain Hammer's strength, his grip on the phone would have shattered it. “Get. Out. I'm thinking he knows where I live. He's probably even read my mail.”
A sharp intake of breath hit Moist's ear, though it probably wasn't because of the mail statement. Penny let the breath out. “Okay. Can you get a message to him?”
Moist didn't need to ask who she meant.
“I tried that already...” he trailed off.
“Moist, I won't pretend to understand why you left the ELE and why neither of you will even talk to me about it, but this is important. Billy needs to hear this. It's about Cap - ”
Long, loud beeps began to echo in Moist's ear. The phone fell between his slackened fingers and struck the faux glass panelling. He dove for it and held it hard enough against the side of his face that his cheekbone throbbed. The sound persisted.
“Penny!” he shouted uselessly.
“I'm pretty sure they don't take pennies anymore, which you'd know if you ever left your evil lair to do some grocery shopping,” Captain Hammer pointed out helpfully.
“It's not a lair, I work in a basement,” Moist mumbled.
His heartbeat skipped several notes in a bar as he set the phone back in its cradle for the last time. Slowly, dazedly, he clambered into the back seat through the window and even buckled up his seat belt before it occurred to him that A) Professor Normal was most likely at his apartment, B) so too were the mutant zombies and C) he had three powered-up heroes with him - heroes who lived by some sort of moral code. Okay, two of them did. Moist still wasn't sure about Johnny Snow.
Moist recited his address out loud. Johnny stared at him.
“Is it a code? I know codes, but this one is kind of new...” Hammer began, eyes bright as his brain started doing things it shouldn't.
Wanda came to Moist's rescue, yet again. “Guys, he already told us that we have to get to his apartment, so he just gave us directions - Professor Normal is there, right? Because if you're leading me on, Moist, I will tell Captain Hammer that you really are evil and he might even that forget his fists will throb afterwards.”
“Not likely,” Johnny predicted darkly, no doubt imagining how long he'd have to stuff his fingers into his own ears to block out any diatribes from the precious Captain Hammer.
The ex-famous hero, however, took Johnny's comment as an affirmation of his abilities and beamed around at everyone. This was an acceptable end to the situation.
“Can we go?” Moist ventured, panic riding the bile that entered his mouth.
“Step on it,” Splendour instructed her off-sider.
Johnny muttered something.
“No, I don't care if you go four miles over the speed limit!” Wanda hollered.
Spurred on by the insistence of his peers, the icy hero slammed on the accelerator, forgetting his car was stick, thereby treating everyone to angry revving and a very unpleasant smell. After a moment, he managed to force the car off the footpath. He tried to perform a sharp u-turn but the route took him back across the stubbornly solid black ice he'd laid down.
Splendour swore as the car skidded sideways.
And then they slammed into the side of a very large, very in-charge purple car.
Moist had just enough time to register the neon piping on the other car before the collision forced a build up of moisture that spread like an ache through the bones of the front of his face. He didn't dare hold it in. The violent sneeze that followed burned like one of Penny's curries through his nostrils.
Therefore, he wasn't very surprised when a bedraggled Purple Pimp, devoid of his hat, pried himself out of the Pimp Mobile's sunroof and marched over to wave an elongated, intricate lilac weapon which then found its way to Johnny Snow's face.
“What the hell was that?!” the Pimp snarled, shadows striping across his face - caused by the now illuminated street light above him.
“A complete and utter lack of ABS?” Splendour voiced calmly.
Purple Pimp blinked. His round, mahogany eyes scouted out the rest of the car and he grinned. “Is that you over there, Moist? Did they kidnap you?”
“Uh, I don't think so,” Moist replied, wishing the Pimp didn't sound so cheerful at the thought. “It was voluntary.”
“You responsible for the waterworks?”
“Apparently.”
“So you're finally useful,” decided the Pimp before he stuck the barrel of his weapon into Johnny's ear. “Why did you just scrape puke paint all over my car?!”
“Penny's in trouble,” Moist interjected.
Purple Pimp's psychotic part-angry, part-cheerful smile immediately disintegrated. His large face turned the same shade as his sopping coat as he thought about what Dr Horrible would do to him if he found out that the Pimp didn't help the Doc's girlfriend out of a jam. Purple Pimp had a lot of respect for Penny and still reckoned that the ELE would be more fierce with her schemes, but that wasn't the priority on his mind.
“Oh damn it,” he articulated instead. “The Pimp Mobile will still run so bring all your friends over here, but if you tell anyone that I let Captain Hammer ride with me, I will harvest your right knee cap and use it for my own. I need a new one. So. Get the fuck in the car!!”
Author: hypercaz
Rating: PG-13, only to be safe
Pairing/Characters: Moist, Penny, Dr Horrible, Billy/Penny, Johnny Snow, Captain Hammer, Splendour/Wanda Plenn, Professor Normal
Genre: humour/action/drama/angst/general/pie
Word count: 5038
Summary: 5th in the Cumin Doesn't Quack universe (i.e. Billy and Penny began dating a few weeks before the webisodes).
Moist finds himself in the company of three heroes who aren't entirely convinced that they should help him.
AN: minor crossover is also present in this chapter.
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Look at me, man. I’m Moist. I mean, at my most badass I make people feel like they want to take a shower. I’m not ELE material.
- Moist, Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Coin Wash Menace
ACT II - A Web of Copper Wiring
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moist woke to rain coursing down his forehead, his cheeks, his clavicle, his chest and down down to his toes. He knew what it meant, of course, but he kept his eyes shut and willed away reality for a few more seconds. His tongue flapped about his lips, already wet with tears lost in the flow that had never left him since one night alone with a faulty humidifier.
“You're not in the ELE, are you?” probed the woman's voice from nearby.
“No.”
I was, he thought defiantly. Even though his seat had long been held by the probably more deserving assassin Gemini (two-headed and two-armed, with neither head claiming a separate identity), and even though he had left with his shoulders pressed by guilt (shared though it had been with Billy), it was a matter of pride. The seat had been wrapped in thick plastic and the floor wiped by aspiring Reinfields whenever the moisture had begun to pool around his feet. The ELE catered for its members' little quirks. Real life - not so much.
“Henchmen's Union?”
Moist smiled vaguely and opened his eyes to see someone prettier to wake up to than a creator of mutant zombies. Her brown hair was knotted into two bundles either side of her head and her eyes were a warm and deep green but the kind smile she gave him was as false as the cheerful blue fabric still slapped tight to her torso. Moist chose to shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah. Are you Splendour?”
“The costume kind of gives it away, huh. So why aren't you in the ELE with that kind of power?”
“It just kind of happened,” he replied, baffled, then something more important occurred to him. “Professor Normal! Is he...did he...”
Did he escape, wriggle free, run amok, all of the above? Moist was sure anyone would have thought this after the strange few minutes he'd had lying on the floor of the laundromat - which is where he wasn't, he realised with a jolt. In fact, his back wasn't throbbing against the coarse-grained glass but snuggled on entirely welcome couch cushions. It was a good deal more comfortable than the scowl that broke through the smile on the woman's face.
“We've locked him up in the Heroes Guild's brig,” Splendour allowed. “The police won't know what to do with him.”
“Okay,” said Moist, unconvinced. “That gives us a head start, I guess.”
“Head start?” the heroine prompted.
Moist sealed his eyelids again and thought about the inevitable phone call he had to make to the Evil League of Evil's headquarters to give the villains the head start they would need against an extremely put-out Professor Normal. If Moist guessed correctly, it would not be enough for the Professor to take the mantle of leader - he would probably zombify all the current members out of spite.
But this meant delivering his report to Dr Horrible. Moist wasn't sure how to feel about his old friend. Disbelief was a forerunner, but anger and terror surfaced most often.
“Henchman, remember,” Moist deflected as he focused on the lime green kitchen unit behind Splendour.
Moist guessed he wasn't badass enough to be taken to the Guild along with Professor Normal. Judging by his surrounds, the heroes had taken him back to one of their apartments. No Ice Beams were present, but that didn't mean anything. His eyes travelled back to Splendour's face.
“Professor Normal is a villain,” she was saying. “I figured anyone on your side would have a lot in common. World domination, looting, plundering... murdering children.”
Moist jerked violently and rolled off the lounge.
“Did I touch a nerve?” Splendour asked coldly.
“That was three years ago and it wasn't me, it was Dr Horrible,” he gasped into the floor.
She crouched beside him, a genuine puzzled frown tweaking her lips into a less angular line. “What are you talking about? You're just a henchman.”
Moist gritted his teeth. “I wasn't then, okay? Am I a prisoner or can I go and...”
“Give your precious Doctor a head start?” Splendour supplied. “Well, see I don't particularly mind where you snivel off to but Johnny wants to interrogate you.”
“What's Captain Hammer going to do?” Moist asked curiously.
She winced and her eyes went skyward - that was all the answer Moist needed. He'd thought the ray must have humiliated or even stripped powers from Hammer - but never did he expect that it kept him invincible while giving him the due pain to each wound.
“Yeah, he's not looking good these days is he...” Moist mused.
“And the thing that upsets him most is losing his groupies.”
Both laughed, then halted immediately when they realised their companionable moment.
“It wasn't hard for him to lose his groupies when everyone saw him fail to stop Dr Horrible from killing a child,” Splendour rejoined, ice shooting from every word. “Duly Park Massacre, anyone?”
Since 'massacre' would require more than one child, Moist felt indignant but the ache spreading through his left and right ventricles silenced his correction. He sat on the couch and bent over his knees. He once again pined for religion, because praying would have been the next step. Breaths wended their way into his lungs and out again.
His inactivity must have bored the heroine - or else she had sensed his pain and wished to scrub salt into it - because she walked away and tapped on a door, asking for her companion. Johnny Snow, all freckles and accountant's wrinkles though barely older than his supposed archnemesis, stomped over and poked a miniature Ice Beam (more like a pen or a laser pointer) into the tip of Moist's nose.
Moist sighed. “Let me save you guys the trouble. Our side didn't even know that Professor Normal was alive - or undead, I guess. I'm not really sure. He's probably a little pissed off.”
“He's not the only one,” Johnny grated. “What's so important about you that Normal decided you were numerus unus on his hit list?”
Splendour interrupted with a stage whisper, “Numero uno, Johnny. We discussed this.”
“It's Roman!” Johnny said hotly.
“No it's La... oh I give up. I'll be getting a cup of joe for Hammer.”
Johnny Snow decided to make up for his companion's exit by flicking the mini-Ice Beam between his long, pianist fingers faster than eyes could follow, then he affected a mean expression on his face. The weedy squeak that escaped him the next moment was fast and barely discernible. “Answer the questions, henchman!”
Moist stared at him. “Is that your interrogation voice? It sucks, man.”
“You suck!”
“Caudex es,” taunted Moist.
“Stultissimus sum!” hurled back Johnny.
The head of the Henchmen's Union smirked. “Yeah um... 'sum' means 'I am', remember?”
The wannabe hero made good use of words beginning with S and F.
“Dammit!” screamed Splendour as she marched back in, Captain Hammer cowering behind her. “Professor Normal escaped. He had an army of those walking corpses bust him out. I don't know how he told them where the Guild was...they would have blindfolded him, too, so for starters he wouldn't have known where to send them...”
“He knows a lot of things,” Moist pointed out, mulling over Professor Normal's choice to attack the laundromat.
The heroes all looked at him.
“Like, um, where the Guild is,” he amended.
Captain Hammer's eyes, having scanned him with moral disinterest, shifted after a moment and he stared at Moist as though seeing him anew. “I know you. I know you, don't I? I don't forget a face, especially the face of evil. You were with Dr Horrible at Duly Park.”
“Henchman, remember?”
“No, you were doing your own thing. I remember because I wondered what a slimy specimen of the human race, such as yourself, was doing with your own posse of henchmen.”
Moist's tenuous position with the heroes suddenly dipped to dire. He coughed. “Um. That was a long time ago.”
Splendour's expression went from cautiously pessimistic to downright murderous.
“You are in the ELE,” she accused.
“Duhhh!” exclaimed Johnny.
Moist found himself smiling, though what he really wanted to do was cry. “Three years ago, I retired. I do normal stuff now. Like newsletters. And laundry...”
The smile took on a life of its own as Moist recalled the afternoon he had agreed to help Billy move a disastrous present into the ELE headquarters with a view to appeasing them. They'd barely plugged in the piece of machinery when they heard a bang. Running into the meeting room, they'd found piles of ash instead of League members. Dr Horrible had seized the opportunity. Only Moist, Billy and Penny knew about that afternoon. Dr Horrible's ascension had been faked and, Moist now suspected, based on the work of another evil genius. He was more astute than Billy had ever given him credit for.
“But none of this answers why Professor Normal went after you...” Splendour reminded him. “Or where he'd go next - and that's more important than ever now.”
“My apartment maybe,” Moist pondered out loud. “I used to live in the apartment next door, right, not that it's really an apartment. More of a box than anything. But I moved in for...a friend. Or Professor Normal'd go for Pe...for innocent bystanders, because he's evil like that. I can't really help unless you let me go. And I'll just ruin your couch. But um...I want to help you. I don't like people dying.”
Once upon a time, it had sounded alright to kill a child in Iowa.
Moist shook his head and continued, “It was kind of my fault too, the Duly Park thing. I think it was anyway. I want to make it right.”
“You think you can ever give that family their daughter back and make it right?” Johnny demanded incredulously.
Captain Hammer moaned and sank to the floor. Splendour laid a hand on his shoulder, her green eyes having turned flinty when faced with Moist's confession.
“No,” Moist replied flatly. “But I can save another little girl. If you'll let me.”
The silence invited an explanation.
Moist hesitated. “It's, um, not my story to tell. I think, though, that Professor Normal knows what I know and that's not good. Who would you rather running the ELE - Dr Horrible or Professor Normal?”
Captain Hammer's cheeks hollowed into a pale green. Johnny Snow spluttered.
Wanda Plenn relented.
“I have this old friend,” she began with a slow smile. “He has a habit of picking up strays with pasts. If there's anything I've learnt from all him, it's that people who want to change, can change. Henchman, whoever you are, I think I believe you. And when it comes to good and evil, I don't think it matters right now - because if you have the means to save a life, then I am on your side.”
“But he's evil,” Captain Hammer said, louder than anyone expected of him. “And his little sob story, I'm not buying it. And St Peter won't buy it when I send you to meet him either.”
“More death allegories,” Johnny noted in disgust. “Don't you ever think of anything cheerful? Okay, Splendour, but if he does anything evil, I get to freeze his genitalia and shatter them. Sound fair, henchman?”
Moist openly stared at him, his bottom lip dropping low enough to reveal teeth. “You're kidding me, right? Okay, maybe you're not kidding.”
“You could be using your power for good,” Splendour suggested. “I didn't get the flying thing until I left college so I can understand if this is a little weird.”
“It's probably just a fluke anyway.”
“Do you want it to be a fluke?”
“Uh, no,” Moist replied, frowning as he become aware of a sticky sensation behind his nasal passages.
Hammer's ankles shot up in the air as he slipped on a soggy patch of tacky chartreuse linoleum. He still managed to crook his middle finger above the other four on his left hand mid-fall onto his backside - a gesture that no one missed. Johnny swiftly ducked to the floor and centred himself, glaring up at the guilty party.
Moist circled the palm of his hand over his nose vigorously. “What? I can't help it. Well, maybe I could have - that time,” Moist added quietly for Splendour's benefit.
Wanda Plenn smoothed her grin over with two fingers. Then she reminded herself that this sweaty little man had partially owned up to the responsibility of killing a five-year-old and resumed glaring down at him, though not as potently as she had been.
“What's your name?” she asked.
“Exactly what I am,” he said, walking to the door, not caring if they followed him or offered directions to the nearest payphone. “Moist.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dispatching twenty or so zombies must have seemed quite the unequivocal task for the inferior heroes for them to assume that there would be no others roaming and awaiting just the right electronic signal to spiral into their brains from devices hooked into their ears. Professor Normal would have smiled if he wasn't in Imitation Mode. How they had laughed at him, the Evil League of Evil, when he had unveiled his plans for mutant zombies. How oblivious they had been when he had started gathering skin fragments, wayward strands of hair and other distasteful samples!
Five years of being locked out of the ELE headquarters by amateurs and five years of eking out his work in a disused mental hospital had merely fanned his desire to strike back at the imposter. That time had not been wasted on foolish pursuits - no, he had also discovered the location of those fabled heroes and had fed this information into his children, knowing that they would one day need to know where to find him.
The heroes had given him a chair in a bland grey-walled room. Professor Normal, spine straight and lips flatlining, had perched in the seat and barely said two words to anyone while he occupied it. Nary a twitch was seen on him when the wall caved in at his feet. One of the zombies prostrated there on the immaculate beige floor tiles, which was probably due to it throwing its fetid body at the wall, but it was exactly the kind of response that Normal anticipated for his moments of glory.
Delicately lining up his forefingers and thumbs with the ends of his electronic sideburns, he straightened the device with the aid of memory instead of a reflection. He ignored the flaccid arm that one of his creations lopped out at him in an imitation of offering a helping hand and coasted out through the foyer of the Guild. The bodies of heroes and zombies splattered the floor and the sound of another frenzied battle echoed from nearby.
“I require a vehicle,” Professor Normal announced.
The blank stares of his minions took a moment to register with the villain. Shrugging, he performed a quick dip as he walked for the exit, pilfering the wad of keys (and a few hairs) belonging to a downed hero dressed in canary yellow offset with a blue belt. After stowing the precious DNA sample, Professor Normal triumphantly exited the building and stabbed at the unlock button on the chunky car key. He peered around and repeated this trick several times until he found the black people-carrier. Excellent.
His posse fell in behind him. The groaning and wailing was tedious but necessary, he reminded himself as he attempted to start the car.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
See-sawing his body over the edge of the car window, Moist lunged once more for the payphone and smashed two fingers into the last number. The whole exercise was then made entirely useless when his soaked shirt slipped and then dumped him into a pile of limbs and assorted curses on the ground. At least the phone cord gave and stretched to accommodate the direction change.
“I'll need to make another call,” Moist spoke up while the ring tone began in his left ear. “Can I get some more change?”
The remaining occupants of the pastel khaki car comprised of his would-be rescuers and gaolers and a pair of fluffy pink dinosaurs hanging from the rear view mirror. Captain Hammer, arranged into the cramped space of the backseat with his knees jabbing hard into his chest, shook his head mutely. The driver, however, rummaged through the glovebox for his learner's permit in a cunning pre-emptive strike against any police who happened to notice the slowly melting black ice trailing behind the parked car (a misfire from the converted tailpipe, apparently) and gave no indication that he'd heard the question.
Splendour rested her underarms on the edge of her open window, peering out at Moist. “I'm running out of silver.” She threw her head back in. “Johnny? You have anything?”
“I already told you I don't have any credit!” the boyish hero snapped.
“Yes, we'd like to be using your cell phone and you really should get on a plan,” she said flatly. “You also need to learn how not to mount the kerb. But I just want some coins to help out our new friend here.”
“Will these help?” Captain Hammer offered, passing over a handful of junk he'd rifled for and found in the cracks of the seat beneath him.
Wanda hesitantly pinched the rounder-shaped objects from his palm, neatly avoiding something long, damp and soiled. Flattening her hand, she counted through the coins and selected three quarters before flicking them out the window. They ended their journey on Moist's ribs, which would have hurt more if he wasn't engrossed in attempting to communicate across a web of copper wires.
On the second shrill ring, the phone was dutifully answered by the Evil League of Evil's automated service which was gifted with a voice too chirpy, harried and androgynous for Moist's liking. He narrowed his eyes in concentration.
“If you think you have even a fraction of the evil required to apply for the Evil League of Evil, please visit the website and follow the prompts. If you have somehow dialled the wrong number and wish to order pizza, press one. If you have received a death threat from the ELE, stop delaying the inevitable and pay the money required. If you would like to speak to a human being or another carbon-based life form press two. If you have swallowed dishwashing detergent by mistake or by misadventure...”
Moist pressed the worn and weathered number two on the phone and briefly wondered if he wasn't the only one to perform an abrupt, skidded stop beside it for exactly this reason.
“You don't want pizza, I take it. Evil League of Evil, how may I be of disservice?” a bored, gravelly voice enquired.
“I need to speak to Dr Horrible,” Moist tried.
Rough, hacking coughs exploded out of the receiver, punctuated by an attempt to regain breath that sounded like a jet engine warming up. “Dr Horrible is unavailable for comment but a press release has been issued in the usual channels.”
“No, I mean, I really need to speak to him,” Moist said, raising his eyes to catch the heroes all staring at him unblinkingly. He was reminded eerily of the plastic sheep figurines (and their white, pupil-free eyes) that his mother kept in a cupboard. “This is an emergency.”
“Did you try 911?”
“Uh, no?” Moist was honestly stumped by that one. “No - wait - this is to do with Captain Hammer. Right. Captain Hammer is back and he wants a word...I mean, a showdown with Dr Horrible.”
The corporate tool popped open his mouth in protest. Wanda reached back and slapped a hand over his mouth, cautioning, “You still have your powers, Hammer, so start acting like it!”
“But it might hurt,” he complained.
“Oh it will,” promised Johnny Snow, glaring back at him.
Splendour sighed. “Johnny, I'm trying to help his self-confidence. You might try saying something nice.”
“Why would I do that?” Snow demanded. “If he ever gets his pain-free thing back, then he'll just go back to making fun of me.”
Hammer shook his head vehemently, but he probably would have forced Wanda's hand away very quickly if he'd heard the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Captain Hammer is incapacitated,” the ELE pleb informed Moist.
“Professor Normal attacked a laundromat and now he's after...after...the head of the Henchmen's Union!” Moist spouted.
“Professor Normal is dead.”
The heel of Moist's palm met his forehead and squelched. He muttered, “I don't think I have time for this. Tell Dr Horrible that Penny and Billie are in danger and that a...reanimated rabbit has them.”
“A what?”
“Uh, you'll figure it out.” Moist hesitated and considered telling the disembodied voice that he was attempting to use cloak and dagger and codewords. He shook his head at such folly and pulled himself up, slipping all the way, to hang up the phone.
“The League's uh...delayed,” he announced lamely.
The car thudded as Johnny slapped the driver's side. Plastic and metal cracked ominously down the left of the car's frame as the temperature plummeted. Splendour titled her eyes up through the roof to sky, possibly searching for some sense among the deep royal blue that usually settled in during dusk. Captain Hammer rubbed his bare arms vigorously, but wisely kept his complaints to himself.
Finally, Johnny snapped his hand back inside the car and snorted. “Well, duh. Why should they bother helping? Chaos and riots are just the kind of things they'd enjoy.”
Ignoring him, Moist bent over and scooped up the quarters. He fed them into the phone and punched his own number, though only after several long seconds of tracking Penny through a map in his mind's eye that was shaped a lot like New Zealand.
She answered the phone in three rings. “Hello? Moist?”
Moist's fingers slid dangerously close to the cradle and nearly disconnected the call. He whispered frenetically, “Penny, what are you doing there?”
“I'm waiting for you,” Penny answered calmly, as though it was entirely normal for her to hide at the apartment rented out by the head of the Henchmen's Union and even more normal for Moist to guess where she'd be. “Are you okay?”
Twisting the cord around his fingers, Moist eyed his companions whose bickering was subsiding enough that they could probably hear him. He shrugged. “Yeah. Look, I've got heroes with me and I can't say a lot. Professor Normal knows, Pen. He knows about you. Maybe even about...socky.”
There was a pause as Penny decoded what he meant. Another pause followed as both tried to convince themselves silently that there was no way the villain could have found out about Billie.
“I thought I saw him in the street but I hoped...” Penny's voice became guarded. “So he's not dead.”
Moist propped up his arm behind his head, wedging himself into the corner to keep from sliding down. He explained, “He kind of killed the ELE. This means he's badass enough to kill Bad Horse and we're not even in the same league - literally, huh.”
“Professor Normal...that actually makes sense,” Penny said levelly. “Well, more than the washing machine thing.”
“Pen, I think you need to get out of there,” Moist told her urgently.
“Should I go to my place, because it's a little way across town and I don't have a lot of cash on me for a cab...and Billie hasn't had her nap...”
If Moist had possessed a fraction of Captain Hammer's strength, his grip on the phone would have shattered it. “Get. Out. I'm thinking he knows where I live. He's probably even read my mail.”
A sharp intake of breath hit Moist's ear, though it probably wasn't because of the mail statement. Penny let the breath out. “Okay. Can you get a message to him?”
Moist didn't need to ask who she meant.
“I tried that already...” he trailed off.
“Moist, I won't pretend to understand why you left the ELE and why neither of you will even talk to me about it, but this is important. Billy needs to hear this. It's about Cap - ”
Long, loud beeps began to echo in Moist's ear. The phone fell between his slackened fingers and struck the faux glass panelling. He dove for it and held it hard enough against the side of his face that his cheekbone throbbed. The sound persisted.
“Penny!” he shouted uselessly.
“I'm pretty sure they don't take pennies anymore, which you'd know if you ever left your evil lair to do some grocery shopping,” Captain Hammer pointed out helpfully.
“It's not a lair, I work in a basement,” Moist mumbled.
His heartbeat skipped several notes in a bar as he set the phone back in its cradle for the last time. Slowly, dazedly, he clambered into the back seat through the window and even buckled up his seat belt before it occurred to him that A) Professor Normal was most likely at his apartment, B) so too were the mutant zombies and C) he had three powered-up heroes with him - heroes who lived by some sort of moral code. Okay, two of them did. Moist still wasn't sure about Johnny Snow.
Moist recited his address out loud. Johnny stared at him.
“Is it a code? I know codes, but this one is kind of new...” Hammer began, eyes bright as his brain started doing things it shouldn't.
Wanda came to Moist's rescue, yet again. “Guys, he already told us that we have to get to his apartment, so he just gave us directions - Professor Normal is there, right? Because if you're leading me on, Moist, I will tell Captain Hammer that you really are evil and he might even that forget his fists will throb afterwards.”
“Not likely,” Johnny predicted darkly, no doubt imagining how long he'd have to stuff his fingers into his own ears to block out any diatribes from the precious Captain Hammer.
The ex-famous hero, however, took Johnny's comment as an affirmation of his abilities and beamed around at everyone. This was an acceptable end to the situation.
“Can we go?” Moist ventured, panic riding the bile that entered his mouth.
“Step on it,” Splendour instructed her off-sider.
Johnny muttered something.
“No, I don't care if you go four miles over the speed limit!” Wanda hollered.
Spurred on by the insistence of his peers, the icy hero slammed on the accelerator, forgetting his car was stick, thereby treating everyone to angry revving and a very unpleasant smell. After a moment, he managed to force the car off the footpath. He tried to perform a sharp u-turn but the route took him back across the stubbornly solid black ice he'd laid down.
Splendour swore as the car skidded sideways.
And then they slammed into the side of a very large, very in-charge purple car.
Moist had just enough time to register the neon piping on the other car before the collision forced a build up of moisture that spread like an ache through the bones of the front of his face. He didn't dare hold it in. The violent sneeze that followed burned like one of Penny's curries through his nostrils.
Therefore, he wasn't very surprised when a bedraggled Purple Pimp, devoid of his hat, pried himself out of the Pimp Mobile's sunroof and marched over to wave an elongated, intricate lilac weapon which then found its way to Johnny Snow's face.
“What the hell was that?!” the Pimp snarled, shadows striping across his face - caused by the now illuminated street light above him.
“A complete and utter lack of ABS?” Splendour voiced calmly.
Purple Pimp blinked. His round, mahogany eyes scouted out the rest of the car and he grinned. “Is that you over there, Moist? Did they kidnap you?”
“Uh, I don't think so,” Moist replied, wishing the Pimp didn't sound so cheerful at the thought. “It was voluntary.”
“You responsible for the waterworks?”
“Apparently.”
“So you're finally useful,” decided the Pimp before he stuck the barrel of his weapon into Johnny's ear. “Why did you just scrape puke paint all over my car?!”
“Penny's in trouble,” Moist interjected.
Purple Pimp's psychotic part-angry, part-cheerful smile immediately disintegrated. His large face turned the same shade as his sopping coat as he thought about what Dr Horrible would do to him if he found out that the Pimp didn't help the Doc's girlfriend out of a jam. Purple Pimp had a lot of respect for Penny and still reckoned that the ELE would be more fierce with her schemes, but that wasn't the priority on his mind.
“Oh damn it,” he articulated instead. “The Pimp Mobile will still run so bring all your friends over here, but if you tell anyone that I let Captain Hammer ride with me, I will harvest your right knee cap and use it for my own. I need a new one. So. Get the fuck in the car!!”