The League is Watching (PG-13) [Part 2 of 3]
Title: The League is Watching (previously known as Best Laid Plans)
Author: hypercaz
Rating: PG-13, only to be safe
Pairing/Characters: Penny/Billy, with Moist, Pink Pummeller and Captain Hammer
Genre: umm... mostly humour with one or two bits of action
Word count: 5136
Summary: 4th in the Cumin Doesn't Quack universe (i.e. Billy and Penny have been dating for a while).
“The date is set. The venue is arranged. And Captain Hammer's reign of corporate stupidity will be over in just one short day. Alert your friends and/or enemies. It will be...epic."
AN: despite being Act III-ish, it's probably set a bit of time after Act III was supposed to be happen. Many thanks to my beta melpomene .
CHAPTER ONE - Plushie
CHAPTER TWO - Obstacles
Static filled the screen, interspersed with jagged horizontal lines that undertook a long journey from top to bottom. A burst of interference scored through the white noise, before distant curses in a human voice began muttering through the speakers. Two fast thuds sounded, coinciding with jolts across the display. Finally, a fuzzy image spun into view, sharpening as everything came into focus.
“Slight technical difficulties,” Dr Horrible grumbled. “But, you know, it's not that important. Even though the cam is apparently stuck on black and white which sort of makes it look like one of those bad 30's monster movies...and that would make me the mad scientist with a brain fetish...except I'm clearly in control of most, if not all, of my faculties.”
A frown crossed his face.
“It's not a perfect allusion, granted. I'll fix the video for you tonight. Owing to my recent plans, I haven't been able to catch up on your emails. Should this operation be successful - and it will, because I have an advanced degree in applied horribleness - I probably won't have time to peruse your titillating responses.”
For some reason, that sentence came out more absurd that it had sounded in the shower that morning. Billy paused and tutted his tongue against his teeth momentarily, then shrugged off his indecision.
“Okay, moving along.” He cleared his throat and pushed his goggles off-centre unconsciously. “The date is set. The venue is arranged. And Captain Hammer's reign of corporate stupidity will be over in just one short day. Alert your friends and/or enemies. It will be...epic. Also, if you happen to be a reporter and are covering tomorrow's...event, I'll be seeing you soon...”
Dr Horrible watched the webcam light flicker out. He contemplated his laptop's background - a picture of Penny, smiling in embarrassment while she twirled in a new dress - before smiling and shutting the device down. By now, the nasty swirlings of guilt were easily passed off as the ill product of choosing to devour a cheeseburger in a fit of meat craving in the middle of the previous night.
Clutching his stomach at this thought, Billy shuffled out of the chair towards the bathroom.
_________________________________________
There were various obstacles that prevented the inmates of the apartment block from escaping unscathed. First and foremost, the sticky door syndrome. It wasn't something that happened often, but usually when one was in a hurry. Balancing his washing basket between the wall and himself, Billy muttered under his breath and slammed a knee against the door to his flat. His knee cap ached angrily in response.
He shifted the basket, glanced desperately up at the ceiling and drove his other knee hard into the wood. A yelp followed this as he tumbled into the hall. The ground pinched his nose and then a rain of dirty laundry smothered him.
“I do not have time for this,” Billy protested into the carpet.
Wriggling furiously, he managed to poke his head out from under a couple of layers of shirts. He snuck a look around and found Moist staring down at him.
“You okay, Doc? That looked pretty nasty. You don't have jitters or anything, do you?”
The second obstacle - a good friend...er, henchman...but slightly more than irritating neighbour. Billy sprung up, dusted various socks and other items off himself and crossed his arms. His stomach squirmed momentarily.
“No, of course not.” Billy cleared his throat in attempt to take his voice down a few pitches. “Just, you know, the door. It got stuck.”
Moist nodded. “I got ya. After tomorrow, you can get your own unsticky door.”
“Here's hoping...” Dr Horrible sighed.
“What?”
“Uh, I mean - yeah. It's on. Keep ready.”
“Keep evil,” Moist returned with a grin.
Narrowing his eyes, Billy tried very hard not to mirror his friend's enthusiasm. He waited until Moist had passed down the hall before gathering up the strewn clothes into his laundry basket. Glancing skirtively over his shoulder, just to make sure Moist and/or mutant rabbits weren't watching him with beady eyes, Billy shook himself out and walked briskly towards the exit.
A shadow eclipsed the far door frame.
“Just what are you up to?” demanded a mass of ginger hair.
Twitch, twitch. Billy cleared his throat nervously. “I'm sure - at least, slightly sure - that I remembered to pay the rent this month.”
“Not that,” the voice rumbled ominously, before the third obstacle, the feared landlady, stepped into the light.
Although probably an entire foot shorter, she could definitely be more than terrifying - especially when wielding her weapon of choice. Billy eyed the large tooth brush as she waved it, wondering if he could dive out the door unscathed. Failing that, he was at least sixty-five percent sure that he could devise an Anti-Tooth Brush Ray with sufficiently little chance of an explosion. And it wasn't like his immediate neighbours had ever complained about such explosions before - and that last one was totally not his fault.
Although it probably hadn't been a good idea to wrap foil around viscous material in his last microwave.
“Relax.” The tooth brush weaved through the air. “Wanted to check if one of my tenants still had a pulse. You haven't resurfaced from your pit of voles for a while.”
“That's-that's nice you care.”
“Yeah, I don't much care for dead tenants. They don't pay so well as living ones.”
It was with this cheerful thought that Billy finally escaped.
_______________________________________
He could see Penny already waiting through the window of the laundromat when he arrived. Aside from the unavoidable detours in the hallway of his apartment block, there had been that slight problem involving an old lady, her dog and her dog's fettish for Billy's dirty socks.
Obstacles. Why did it always have to be obstacles? Why couldn't he just walk down the street to the laundromat without being molested by terrifying dogs as high as his ankles? Why couldn't the Evil League of Evil just give a multiple choice placement test like any normal society of eccentrics?
Dr Horrible cleared his throat importantly, then again when it failed to garner any attention. The result he achieved was not exactly perfect. A passing child on a cyclist swerved and clipped his laundry basket, sending it flying against the window of the laundromat. Billy flattened himself on the pavement so no one inside would look out and see him, especially with a pair of boxers sliding down in front of his face.
“I thought I saw you,” Penny said from above him.
She knelt down and began calmly picking up his clothes. Her bright low-cut top certainly gave him an interesting view for a few seconds before Billy scuttled away in search of his socks.
“You're late,” Penny spoke again.
“Late night. Really late night. But with absolutely no plotting, scheming or shopping channel.”
Her smile sent unwanted but pleasant warm tingles over his skin. “Are you okay, Billy? You seem kind of...distracted.”
“Hm, what?” Billy was trying hard not to let his eyes stray down past her neck.
Penny made a face. “Funny. Come on, I don't have a lot of time today. We're setting up the new homeless shelter. You are coming to the dedication tomorrow, aren't you?”
“W-wouldn't miss him - er, it. Wouldn't miss it for the world.”
“Good.” She looked pleased. “And Billy?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think I should wear this shirt more often?”
Sprung!
________________________________
There was something to be said of a villain who delegates - that something being that he actually had someone to delegate to. That said, any villain who allowed such lapses in security by delegating to minions ended up either hammered against a wall or working the register at the convenience store down the road.
Billy wasn't entirely sure which scenario he preferred. Eating a wall versus eating customer complaints. A brain teaser for another day.
He paced exactly four steps east, and four steps west. And then north, because there was a sticky patch on the vinyl in Pink Pummeller's living room. He probably should have gone south after that. But impressive crossing of arms, tilting of head and impervious stare...can slightly make up for that.
“Are you sure they won't notice us sneaking in the Freeze Ray?” Moist asked.
Dr Horrible was mostly sure, but he couldn't be entirely sure of that either. He settled for scoffing, “Am I sure? Moist, you don't get into the Evil League of Evil just by being sure. Aside from the obvious - fear, respect, the ability to reverse parallel park - one must be unwavering in their plans.”
“Or you could just kill someone,” Moist pointed out. “Do you think they make Bad Horse reverse parallel park?”
Billy considered this. “I guess if you're a horse you don't really need to drive - but that's not important. What's important is that tonight, Captain Hammer will experience the humiliation of - ”
Moist looked expectant.
“And that's not important either,” Dr Horrible announced, turned and paced southwards.
__________________________________________
Pink Pummeller had dreams. Sometimes at night, but mostly when he was standing in the line at the convenience store. Or when he was sitting at home, being stared mercilessly at by dozens of teddy bears begging to be cuddled. At which point, he would dream of pummelling them into the carpet. And dream was all he would do, because he couldn't actually pummel them. His grandmother gave them to him, after all. And she was kind of his landlady. She'd even made his outfit.
He dreamed he was wearing that outfit now. Especially the gloves. He'd managed to wear the same socks, though. Definite plus. They were extra thick, so his big boots wouldn't fall off. Except he wasn't wearing boots, but the same principle applied. Or it should.
“You're here to set up?” a woman asked him brightly.
Pink Pummeller nodded. “The lights. To make them turn on.”
“Okay, let me know if you need anything,” she told him. “A helping hand, a sandwich...I'm Penny by the way.”
That name sounded vaguely familiar. Moist might have mentioned it once or twice. Pink Pumeller dreamed he was with Moist and Dr Horrible, plotting dastardly things. But here he was trying to...do something. Actually he wasn't entirely sure of that. But henchmen weren't supposed to be sure. That was a job for villains.
He felt suddenly relieved.
“Can I have a sandwich? With lettuce?” he asked hopefully.
“Just lettuce?”
“Why, shouldn't it have just lettuce?”
“Just, you know, checking.”
Now that reminded him of Dr Horrible. For some reason. Pink Pummeller watched her leave, was briefly distracted by the thought of lettuce, and then began to wheel the trolley towards the access ramp to the stage. He pulled nervously at the white sheet covering the contents. It was bad enough that he had to wear a bright orange cap with a fake lighting company's logo stamped across it - but being made to stow Dr Horrible's Freeze Ray behind the stage, now that was really dangerous!
He should have argued for a pink cap. Pink is a nice, safe colour. Except when it's on the fast and heavy fists of the almighty Pink Pummeller! Ha!
At least he was wearing pink socks.
_____________________________________
“You know I don't watch TV,” Billy muttered, stabbing his completely meat-free dinner and keeping an eye on the television set sputtering away in the corner. Tonight's top story was something or other about Captain Hammer making a public appearance...ah.
Tipping his phone away from his ear, he almost missed Penny's next sentence.
“Captain Hammer? No I didn't know he would be there tomorrow. Wow. That's so strange. And unexpected. You know I once asked for his autograph? Yeah so that's strange. Haha, what are the chances?”
“You wouldn't be...planning anything would you?” Penny's voice went quiet.
Twitch, twitch, twitch. “Me? No. Nooo.”
“Okay,” she said.
Billy had no idea what that meant. “Um. So. You wearing that top again?”
“Depends,” Penny teased. “I'll be seeing you tomorrow, right?”
The female newsreader on the television made an appraising remark about how nice it was that Captain Hammer was opening a homeless shelter. Lettuce-flavoured vomit slid up Dr Horrible's throat.
“I won't miss,” he vowed, then added abruptly, “Bye Penny.”
“Billy...”
He rested his thumb over the hang up button. But he didn't push it.
Penny sighed into his ear. “Goodnight, Billy. I love you.”
Then he hung up.
_______________________________
The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Forecast - absolute humiliation and pwning of one's arch nemesis. Plans - all planned. Evil costume - slight tear in a very compromising spot. Dr Horrible stared at the tear for a short moment before marching over to his bathroom.
Two minutes later, he had patched the tear up from the inside. He hadn't quite thought that band-aid solutions were literal, but there you go. It had to happen at least once. Although the band-aids were kind of itchy. At least, being on the inside of the pants, the Barney the Dinosaur design wasn't in any way obvious.
Billy stepped out of the pants and into his jeans. Incognito - at least for now. Hopefully soon enough he wouldn't have to keep going back to common civilian clothing. Although, Penny liked his jeans and may have mentioned more than once that they were flattering.
He stuffed his Dr Horrible outfit into his bag and shuffled out the door. Two seconds later, a henchman dutifully appeared at his side.
“Nice day, huh?” Moist supplied.
Dr Horrible answered him with cool, indifferent silence. This time, no obstacles blocked their path to the outside. Except the random sock in the middle of the corridor, which was easily mastered.
He did, however, spend the rest of the way to the Caring Hands Homeless Shelter looking around for a matching sock.
_________________________________
Something soft and scary touched Pink Pummeller on the shoulder. He whimpered, shrieked and spun around. Seeing who it was, he sheepishly looked down at his shoes, more than ever needing a peek of the pink socks hidden down there.
“Sorry,” Penny said with a smile, dropping her hand. “I thought you would want a lettuce sandwich, because all the other ones I made have extra things on them. But if you'd like extra lettuce, I can probably get some.”
Accepting the brown paper bag that she offered him, Pink P mumbled his thanks. Then a thought occurred to him. “Is there something around here that opens the curtains at the back of the stage?”
He didn't see why Dr Horrible couldn't just design something that could shoot through cloth or walls, like an X-Ray...Ray...but orders were orders. Freeze Ray - no obstacle - very frozen hero. Apparently. The science was a little sketchy to Pink Pummeller. In his opinion, any weapon that had to resort to strange substances not found on the periodic table was just heading for trouble. Not that he would allow himself to think such thoughts. He was a henchman. A henchman with grand plans, such as finally completing Commander Keen 5: The Armageddon Machine. Fifteen years and he'd been stuck on the last level. Either he couldn't figure out how to get to the ending, or a floating space bomb would come along and end it for him.
Penny touched his shoulder again. “Um, the cord is over here. Do you need help opening it?”
“No, not using it, I'm in charge of lights,” Pink P reminded her. “Definitely not using it.”
“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything else. Extra lettuce, a book to read, a jetpack to go to the moon with...”
“How to finish the last level of Commander Keen 5?” he asked hopefully.
Penny blinked and shook her head. “Extra lettuce then. And if you do have trouble with the curtains, I'll be on the stage so you can signal me if you want to.”
She smiled again and left.
___________________________________
Five minutes before showtime and the hall was decked out in blinding lights and potential lens flares. There was a blackout on any recordings or photography until the make-up lady had finished giving a last minute spruce-up to Captain Hammer - not that he needed it. His face was naturally this perfect and had absolutely nothing to do with man-style moisturiser that was selling for half price at Wal-Mart. Absolutely nothing to do with it.
So the only reason he demanded the touch up was to provide a witness to his impeccable skin. He would probably have done one of those acne removal cream ads, except he didn't want people to think he'd ever suffered such a terrible affliction. The endorsement offer had hurt to turn down - the closest he'd ever come to feeling real pain.
“Do I even know why I'm here?” he demanded of his manager in a storage closet doubling as a make-up room. “No I don't. Who invited me to this dump anyway? Where are my cue cards? I need one of those drinks with the little umbrellas.”
“I found your cue cards on the floor outside,” a helpful voice said behind him.
Captain Hammer spun around and regarded the woman suspiciously. She looked familiar, but then everyone looked familiar. Except the man he saw in the mirror. Now that was damn fine. He snatched up the cue cards. “Did you read them?”
“No, but I think I'd like to hear your speech,” she said quietly, brushing back her red hair with her fingers. “Do you...remember me?”
Oh no, a fan. He really should stop rescuing some of them if this kept happening.
“Sure, I remember you,” Captain Hammer said easily, while shooting a panicked look at his manager.
The smile his visitor gave him was sweet. Nice. She kept talking. “You know when you saved me from Doctor Horrible? And the van?”
“Ah, Doctor Horrible and the van. Did he bother you again?”
“No. Thank you. I'll be on the stage with the mayor.”
Captain Hammer narrowed his eyes at her. Then he asked for a drink with the little umbrella again and this time got what he ordered. He didn't even notice Penny slipping out the door.
_____________________________________________
Five minutes later, everyone was in position. The audience was seated in awed appreciation, the reporters were leaning forward in their chairs and the mayor was standing before them. Not that anyone paid him any mind - Captain Hammer was also primed in his seat next to Penny. Unbeknownst to a certain corporate tool, other people were ready.
Pink Pummeller lurked in the wings, fondling the curtain cords. Moist leaned up against the wall outside the hall - or was trying to. He kept sliding down onto his butt. And as for Doctor Horrible...everyone would know soon enough.
The mayor invoked the sacred name of Captain Hammer - the audience applauded. Their hero took to the pulpit and waved a hand around at them. He made a patting motion, signalling them to return to an admiring silence. Carefully, he arranged the cue cards in front of him, squinting at the minute text. Hmm, maybe tiny cue cards were a bad idea. He did have big hands after all - and they weren't the biggest part of him.
“We need more places to put the homeless,” he lectured the audience. “Because I'm tired of seeing them on the street. This way I don't have to see them because they will be blooming within the walls of tender loving care. And they get to have free soup.”
Sweeping his hand over the faces in front of him, Captain Hammer made sure to latch eye contact with at least four women. He held the pause just long enough for the smiles to appear. He continued, “You won't hear the homeless complain - it's not their way. Anyway, if they're out of earshot then it's a definite bonus to this city. And each of you - and me, especially me - who signed this petition, made it happen.”
(“What petition?” he'd asked his manager a few days before.
“The one you signed. It has your name.”
“I don't remember a petition. Will there be reporters? If there's reporters then, okay, I'll go. But I need my own dressing room.”)
This memory was momentarily lost in the pleasure of basking in the scope of at least six video cameras. Unfortunately, his last cue card seemed to have followed into the oblivion. Captain Hammer shifted the cue cards around, looking for it and trying to smile around at the audience whose dutiful applause was winding down too rapidly.
Okay. He could improvise. He'd done the improvising thing before. His manager had signed him up for that private drama class for such a situation.
“And that petition thing shows us one thing,” he announced slowly. “That even though I'm the one with all the power, you can do something to save people too. It's not a big something, but you've got to do something, right?”
Sometime during this speech, the red curtain behind Captain Hammer shivered. A soft protesting clunk made them wave even more. The parts touching the floor began to sway. Now sitting next to the mayor, Penny looked over at the curtain. She shook her head, smiled awkwardly around in case anyone was watching and moved quickly off stage.
Here she found Pink Pummeller, hands bound up tightly in the dusty cord as he heaved unsuccessfully. Penny cleared her throat. “Do you need help?”
“No,” he mumbled and pulled again.
“You're not very good at lying,” Penny told him and seized part of the curtain. “Here, let me help. They get a little stuck at the beginning but once you unsnag them - ” The curtain gave under a sharp tug. “ - there you go. Now you can open them.”
“Th-thanks.”
Penny turned away and paused. She looked over at him. “Can you please tell my boyfriend to give me something to do next time?”
An open astonished mouth met this. “You mean - you and Doctor - ”
“You'd better hurry,” Penny advised him and disappeared.
Pink Pummeller hurried. The curtains parted like a red sea of thick cloth, exposing a bare wall to a distracted audience - and the sight of a Freeze Ray aimed right at the pulpit. Stationed at the device was none other than Doctor Horrible.
How'd he get there so fast? Pink P thought admiringly. He wasn't there when I last checked.
He gave himself two more split seconds of appreciation before diving for his costume, stashed underneath a cobweb. It was probably a good thing he didn't notice the spider crawling away.
_____________________________
An icy blast shot from the back of the stage, engulfing Captain Hammer in static periwinkle. Generally this sort of thing didn't happen at the opening of homeless shelters, so at first no one was sure what to do.
There was a collective silence. Then someone gasped. This seemed like a good idea. Everyone gasped.
And then a deep, unsettling laugh slithered from the back of the stage. At the last maniacal note, Doctor Horrible emerged into the spotlights. Several extra flashes lit up the stage, immortalising the visage of a village, for either a front page or an obituary. Captain Hammer was frozen and forgotten - something that really would have irked him if he'd been aware of it.
Although Billy half-wished the hero would share the sensation of burning eyeballs and sunburn radiating from half a dozen different cameras. Half-wished, not entirely wished. Because being blind was slightly better than being hurled against a wall. Or being scraped off one. Or...being eaten by a mutant rabbit.
Shaking his head to clear purple spots in his vision and rogue thoughts from his brain, Dr Horrible laughed again before addressing the stunned members of the public. “Oh, please! Don't stop applauding on my account. Did you seriously listen to that guy?”
Here, Dr Horrible stopped and turned back towards Captain Hammer. That stupid smirk was frozen on his face. “And look at him. Quiet as the grave. Still as the grave. He can't help you. Where's your applause now?”
Someone lost their head in the audience and went shrieking for the exit. He skidded, backstroked wildly in mid-air and then slapped down hard on the ground. The door, mere feet from where he lay, opened. A slight figure in a diving suit entered. He lifted a hand as if to wave at the villain, thought better of it, and shut the door behind him.
Moist then looked down at his victim. “Slip, slop, slap and slide, buddy.”
A reporter attempting to slink closer squealed and went sliding past. Moist watched her, shrugged and planted his feet in line with his shoulders on the slippery floor. He was wearing socks and leg warmers over the diving suit - a dirty pink that looked safely grey enough not to raise any questions among manly men. They were borrowed from Pink Pummeller, and most likely knitted by his grandmother.
Moist wasn't entirely pleased about that, but his feet were really cold. And his outfit was lame and unoriginal. But it had just been sitting there in the bargain bin, waiting for a chance to see daylight...
By now, the message was clear. Captain Hammer was useless, the floor was just as useless - and a terrified citizen had just had a nervous release of gas in the front row. Doctor Horrible now had the floor.
“I am Doctor Horrible,” he continued, once everyone had settled down and were regarding him with stunned expressions. He began descending the stairs at the front of the stage. “And Doctor Horrible is...” A pause. Another long pause. “...is here.”
That could have gone better. Improvising catchphrases in the comfort of one's own secret evil laboratory was one thing - feebly spouting the first and worst thing that came to his head, in public no less, was a mistake almost too fatal to learn from.
He looked around. Where was Penny? Why wasn't she there?
I want her to see this.
God, I'm glad she's not here.
She would understand.
She told me not to lie...
Dr Horrible noted the arrival of Pink Pummeller, also decked out his disguise. Hm. Henchmen with matching pink on their feet. Not exactly the look he was hoping for. The villain cleared his throat. “Please pass anything of intrinsic value and/or nostalgic importance to the nearest henchman. And please, it's double R in Horrible, like the adjective.”
A few pens started madly scribbling. Better. Hopefully this meant there was a good chance no one had recorded his feeble catchphrase. Better still that Captain Hammer hadn't heard it. And yet there were still too many witnesses. It wasn't as if he could silence them, you know. Not unless he fired them all with an eternal Freeze Ray, which would defeat the purpose of the operation.
Nothing quite like robbing an entire hall of people under the very nose of Captain Hammer. But something didn't seem right. It just didn't seem...enough, somehow?
Doctor Horrible climbed the stairs to view over his domain once more. Moist and Pink Pummeller were doing their henchmen duties...there would be rewards, of course, but the greatest reward would be helping him land a seat on the Evil League of Evil, which would be totally cool. Erm, and more than cool.
A subtle breeze puffed over his neck. He looked to the door, then shrugged. But there was a really...really...bad sound.
Then a hand heavier than a three tonne truck landed on his shoulder. Shrugging became slightly difficult following this. In fact, breathing and thinking became a bit out of reach too. It didn't help that all of the audience, even his henchmen, seemed to be looking behind him.
“Um,” said Dr Horrible and promptly ducked.
Captain Hammer's thick fist slammed through the air where his head had been. He scuttled sideways to get a clear look at the Freeze Ray. Seemingly inert - and there was that issue of his arch nemesis being unfrozen.
A heavy boot attached itself to one of his knees and sent him flying backwards into the mayor. Okay, could have been worse. The corporate tool was probably just playing with him. Which...still managed to fill him with dread. Dr Horrible dug a hand through one of his pockets, tugged impatiently - and felt something rip loose.
A very itchy band-aid floated down his leg.
This was the least of his problems, but it was really distracting. Captain Hammer advanced. The mayor pushed him off. The hammer logo grew very big. Dr Horrible bent over low and tried to barrel past towards the Freeze Ray.
Hammer leapt over in a single bound, hard enough so that the wood beneath his feet splintered. He wrapped both hands around the Ray and bent it around his foot. Winking towards the audience, he hurled it up through the ceiling.
Things...were getting a little dire.
Captain Hammer chuckled. “You really think I didn't know about your stupid Freeze Ray? Your stupid...” His eyes travelled down the villain's torso. “...little...Freeze Ray? Really, Doctor, you should be more careful about what you say on that blog of yours.”
“But you were frozen...” Dr Horrible began, and stopped.
“And for how long? Not very. Try not to hit your head too hard on your way down to hell.”
Captain Hammer seized him by the front of his lab coat and hurled him across the room with such force that the knock he took during the Wonderflonium heist was a mere caress by comparison.
Hammer, meet nail. Nail, meet wall.
A sickening pop and a suspicious crunch later, Billy found himself sliding down the wall. Nothing seemed to hurt, which was probably a bad thing. It was nice on the floor though.
He closed his eyes. Kind of peaceful, actually. If you ignored the shouting, the stampeding feet, the hazy painless throbbing...which suddenly wasn't quite as painless as it could have been...
This was the time for some improvising.
Doctor Horrible passed out.
to be concluded
AN2: ... hmm, well that took far too many months to write. I apologise for it - I spent the past 6 months wanting to write chapter 3, and realising I had to write chapter 2 to get to it...
Author: hypercaz
Rating: PG-13, only to be safe
Pairing/Characters: Penny/Billy, with Moist, Pink Pummeller and Captain Hammer
Genre: umm... mostly humour with one or two bits of action
Word count: 5136
Summary: 4th in the Cumin Doesn't Quack universe (i.e. Billy and Penny have been dating for a while).
“The date is set. The venue is arranged. And Captain Hammer's reign of corporate stupidity will be over in just one short day. Alert your friends and/or enemies. It will be...epic."
AN: despite being Act III-ish, it's probably set a bit of time after Act III was supposed to be happen. Many thanks to my beta melpomene .
CHAPTER ONE - Plushie
CHAPTER TWO - Obstacles
Static filled the screen, interspersed with jagged horizontal lines that undertook a long journey from top to bottom. A burst of interference scored through the white noise, before distant curses in a human voice began muttering through the speakers. Two fast thuds sounded, coinciding with jolts across the display. Finally, a fuzzy image spun into view, sharpening as everything came into focus.
“Slight technical difficulties,” Dr Horrible grumbled. “But, you know, it's not that important. Even though the cam is apparently stuck on black and white which sort of makes it look like one of those bad 30's monster movies...and that would make me the mad scientist with a brain fetish...except I'm clearly in control of most, if not all, of my faculties.”
A frown crossed his face.
“It's not a perfect allusion, granted. I'll fix the video for you tonight. Owing to my recent plans, I haven't been able to catch up on your emails. Should this operation be successful - and it will, because I have an advanced degree in applied horribleness - I probably won't have time to peruse your titillating responses.”
For some reason, that sentence came out more absurd that it had sounded in the shower that morning. Billy paused and tutted his tongue against his teeth momentarily, then shrugged off his indecision.
“Okay, moving along.” He cleared his throat and pushed his goggles off-centre unconsciously. “The date is set. The venue is arranged. And Captain Hammer's reign of corporate stupidity will be over in just one short day. Alert your friends and/or enemies. It will be...epic. Also, if you happen to be a reporter and are covering tomorrow's...event, I'll be seeing you soon...”
Dr Horrible watched the webcam light flicker out. He contemplated his laptop's background - a picture of Penny, smiling in embarrassment while she twirled in a new dress - before smiling and shutting the device down. By now, the nasty swirlings of guilt were easily passed off as the ill product of choosing to devour a cheeseburger in a fit of meat craving in the middle of the previous night.
Clutching his stomach at this thought, Billy shuffled out of the chair towards the bathroom.
_________________________________________
There were various obstacles that prevented the inmates of the apartment block from escaping unscathed. First and foremost, the sticky door syndrome. It wasn't something that happened often, but usually when one was in a hurry. Balancing his washing basket between the wall and himself, Billy muttered under his breath and slammed a knee against the door to his flat. His knee cap ached angrily in response.
He shifted the basket, glanced desperately up at the ceiling and drove his other knee hard into the wood. A yelp followed this as he tumbled into the hall. The ground pinched his nose and then a rain of dirty laundry smothered him.
“I do not have time for this,” Billy protested into the carpet.
Wriggling furiously, he managed to poke his head out from under a couple of layers of shirts. He snuck a look around and found Moist staring down at him.
“You okay, Doc? That looked pretty nasty. You don't have jitters or anything, do you?”
The second obstacle - a good friend...er, henchman...but slightly more than irritating neighbour. Billy sprung up, dusted various socks and other items off himself and crossed his arms. His stomach squirmed momentarily.
“No, of course not.” Billy cleared his throat in attempt to take his voice down a few pitches. “Just, you know, the door. It got stuck.”
Moist nodded. “I got ya. After tomorrow, you can get your own unsticky door.”
“Here's hoping...” Dr Horrible sighed.
“What?”
“Uh, I mean - yeah. It's on. Keep ready.”
“Keep evil,” Moist returned with a grin.
Narrowing his eyes, Billy tried very hard not to mirror his friend's enthusiasm. He waited until Moist had passed down the hall before gathering up the strewn clothes into his laundry basket. Glancing skirtively over his shoulder, just to make sure Moist and/or mutant rabbits weren't watching him with beady eyes, Billy shook himself out and walked briskly towards the exit.
A shadow eclipsed the far door frame.
“Just what are you up to?” demanded a mass of ginger hair.
Twitch, twitch. Billy cleared his throat nervously. “I'm sure - at least, slightly sure - that I remembered to pay the rent this month.”
“Not that,” the voice rumbled ominously, before the third obstacle, the feared landlady, stepped into the light.
Although probably an entire foot shorter, she could definitely be more than terrifying - especially when wielding her weapon of choice. Billy eyed the large tooth brush as she waved it, wondering if he could dive out the door unscathed. Failing that, he was at least sixty-five percent sure that he could devise an Anti-Tooth Brush Ray with sufficiently little chance of an explosion. And it wasn't like his immediate neighbours had ever complained about such explosions before - and that last one was totally not his fault.
Although it probably hadn't been a good idea to wrap foil around viscous material in his last microwave.
“Relax.” The tooth brush weaved through the air. “Wanted to check if one of my tenants still had a pulse. You haven't resurfaced from your pit of voles for a while.”
“That's-that's nice you care.”
“Yeah, I don't much care for dead tenants. They don't pay so well as living ones.”
It was with this cheerful thought that Billy finally escaped.
_______________________________________
He could see Penny already waiting through the window of the laundromat when he arrived. Aside from the unavoidable detours in the hallway of his apartment block, there had been that slight problem involving an old lady, her dog and her dog's fettish for Billy's dirty socks.
Obstacles. Why did it always have to be obstacles? Why couldn't he just walk down the street to the laundromat without being molested by terrifying dogs as high as his ankles? Why couldn't the Evil League of Evil just give a multiple choice placement test like any normal society of eccentrics?
Dr Horrible cleared his throat importantly, then again when it failed to garner any attention. The result he achieved was not exactly perfect. A passing child on a cyclist swerved and clipped his laundry basket, sending it flying against the window of the laundromat. Billy flattened himself on the pavement so no one inside would look out and see him, especially with a pair of boxers sliding down in front of his face.
“I thought I saw you,” Penny said from above him.
She knelt down and began calmly picking up his clothes. Her bright low-cut top certainly gave him an interesting view for a few seconds before Billy scuttled away in search of his socks.
“You're late,” Penny spoke again.
“Late night. Really late night. But with absolutely no plotting, scheming or shopping channel.”
Her smile sent unwanted but pleasant warm tingles over his skin. “Are you okay, Billy? You seem kind of...distracted.”
“Hm, what?” Billy was trying hard not to let his eyes stray down past her neck.
Penny made a face. “Funny. Come on, I don't have a lot of time today. We're setting up the new homeless shelter. You are coming to the dedication tomorrow, aren't you?”
“W-wouldn't miss him - er, it. Wouldn't miss it for the world.”
“Good.” She looked pleased. “And Billy?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think I should wear this shirt more often?”
Sprung!
________________________________
There was something to be said of a villain who delegates - that something being that he actually had someone to delegate to. That said, any villain who allowed such lapses in security by delegating to minions ended up either hammered against a wall or working the register at the convenience store down the road.
Billy wasn't entirely sure which scenario he preferred. Eating a wall versus eating customer complaints. A brain teaser for another day.
He paced exactly four steps east, and four steps west. And then north, because there was a sticky patch on the vinyl in Pink Pummeller's living room. He probably should have gone south after that. But impressive crossing of arms, tilting of head and impervious stare...can slightly make up for that.
“Are you sure they won't notice us sneaking in the Freeze Ray?” Moist asked.
Dr Horrible was mostly sure, but he couldn't be entirely sure of that either. He settled for scoffing, “Am I sure? Moist, you don't get into the Evil League of Evil just by being sure. Aside from the obvious - fear, respect, the ability to reverse parallel park - one must be unwavering in their plans.”
“Or you could just kill someone,” Moist pointed out. “Do you think they make Bad Horse reverse parallel park?”
Billy considered this. “I guess if you're a horse you don't really need to drive - but that's not important. What's important is that tonight, Captain Hammer will experience the humiliation of - ”
Moist looked expectant.
“And that's not important either,” Dr Horrible announced, turned and paced southwards.
__________________________________________
Pink Pummeller had dreams. Sometimes at night, but mostly when he was standing in the line at the convenience store. Or when he was sitting at home, being stared mercilessly at by dozens of teddy bears begging to be cuddled. At which point, he would dream of pummelling them into the carpet. And dream was all he would do, because he couldn't actually pummel them. His grandmother gave them to him, after all. And she was kind of his landlady. She'd even made his outfit.
He dreamed he was wearing that outfit now. Especially the gloves. He'd managed to wear the same socks, though. Definite plus. They were extra thick, so his big boots wouldn't fall off. Except he wasn't wearing boots, but the same principle applied. Or it should.
“You're here to set up?” a woman asked him brightly.
Pink Pummeller nodded. “The lights. To make them turn on.”
“Okay, let me know if you need anything,” she told him. “A helping hand, a sandwich...I'm Penny by the way.”
That name sounded vaguely familiar. Moist might have mentioned it once or twice. Pink Pumeller dreamed he was with Moist and Dr Horrible, plotting dastardly things. But here he was trying to...do something. Actually he wasn't entirely sure of that. But henchmen weren't supposed to be sure. That was a job for villains.
He felt suddenly relieved.
“Can I have a sandwich? With lettuce?” he asked hopefully.
“Just lettuce?”
“Why, shouldn't it have just lettuce?”
“Just, you know, checking.”
Now that reminded him of Dr Horrible. For some reason. Pink Pummeller watched her leave, was briefly distracted by the thought of lettuce, and then began to wheel the trolley towards the access ramp to the stage. He pulled nervously at the white sheet covering the contents. It was bad enough that he had to wear a bright orange cap with a fake lighting company's logo stamped across it - but being made to stow Dr Horrible's Freeze Ray behind the stage, now that was really dangerous!
He should have argued for a pink cap. Pink is a nice, safe colour. Except when it's on the fast and heavy fists of the almighty Pink Pummeller! Ha!
At least he was wearing pink socks.
_____________________________________
“You know I don't watch TV,” Billy muttered, stabbing his completely meat-free dinner and keeping an eye on the television set sputtering away in the corner. Tonight's top story was something or other about Captain Hammer making a public appearance...ah.
Tipping his phone away from his ear, he almost missed Penny's next sentence.
“Captain Hammer? No I didn't know he would be there tomorrow. Wow. That's so strange. And unexpected. You know I once asked for his autograph? Yeah so that's strange. Haha, what are the chances?”
“You wouldn't be...planning anything would you?” Penny's voice went quiet.
Twitch, twitch, twitch. “Me? No. Nooo.”
“Okay,” she said.
Billy had no idea what that meant. “Um. So. You wearing that top again?”
“Depends,” Penny teased. “I'll be seeing you tomorrow, right?”
The female newsreader on the television made an appraising remark about how nice it was that Captain Hammer was opening a homeless shelter. Lettuce-flavoured vomit slid up Dr Horrible's throat.
“I won't miss,” he vowed, then added abruptly, “Bye Penny.”
“Billy...”
He rested his thumb over the hang up button. But he didn't push it.
Penny sighed into his ear. “Goodnight, Billy. I love you.”
Then he hung up.
_______________________________
The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Forecast - absolute humiliation and pwning of one's arch nemesis. Plans - all planned. Evil costume - slight tear in a very compromising spot. Dr Horrible stared at the tear for a short moment before marching over to his bathroom.
Two minutes later, he had patched the tear up from the inside. He hadn't quite thought that band-aid solutions were literal, but there you go. It had to happen at least once. Although the band-aids were kind of itchy. At least, being on the inside of the pants, the Barney the Dinosaur design wasn't in any way obvious.
Billy stepped out of the pants and into his jeans. Incognito - at least for now. Hopefully soon enough he wouldn't have to keep going back to common civilian clothing. Although, Penny liked his jeans and may have mentioned more than once that they were flattering.
He stuffed his Dr Horrible outfit into his bag and shuffled out the door. Two seconds later, a henchman dutifully appeared at his side.
“Nice day, huh?” Moist supplied.
Dr Horrible answered him with cool, indifferent silence. This time, no obstacles blocked their path to the outside. Except the random sock in the middle of the corridor, which was easily mastered.
He did, however, spend the rest of the way to the Caring Hands Homeless Shelter looking around for a matching sock.
_________________________________
Something soft and scary touched Pink Pummeller on the shoulder. He whimpered, shrieked and spun around. Seeing who it was, he sheepishly looked down at his shoes, more than ever needing a peek of the pink socks hidden down there.
“Sorry,” Penny said with a smile, dropping her hand. “I thought you would want a lettuce sandwich, because all the other ones I made have extra things on them. But if you'd like extra lettuce, I can probably get some.”
Accepting the brown paper bag that she offered him, Pink P mumbled his thanks. Then a thought occurred to him. “Is there something around here that opens the curtains at the back of the stage?”
He didn't see why Dr Horrible couldn't just design something that could shoot through cloth or walls, like an X-Ray...Ray...but orders were orders. Freeze Ray - no obstacle - very frozen hero. Apparently. The science was a little sketchy to Pink Pummeller. In his opinion, any weapon that had to resort to strange substances not found on the periodic table was just heading for trouble. Not that he would allow himself to think such thoughts. He was a henchman. A henchman with grand plans, such as finally completing Commander Keen 5: The Armageddon Machine. Fifteen years and he'd been stuck on the last level. Either he couldn't figure out how to get to the ending, or a floating space bomb would come along and end it for him.
Penny touched his shoulder again. “Um, the cord is over here. Do you need help opening it?”
“No, not using it, I'm in charge of lights,” Pink P reminded her. “Definitely not using it.”
“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything else. Extra lettuce, a book to read, a jetpack to go to the moon with...”
“How to finish the last level of Commander Keen 5?” he asked hopefully.
Penny blinked and shook her head. “Extra lettuce then. And if you do have trouble with the curtains, I'll be on the stage so you can signal me if you want to.”
She smiled again and left.
___________________________________
Five minutes before showtime and the hall was decked out in blinding lights and potential lens flares. There was a blackout on any recordings or photography until the make-up lady had finished giving a last minute spruce-up to Captain Hammer - not that he needed it. His face was naturally this perfect and had absolutely nothing to do with man-style moisturiser that was selling for half price at Wal-Mart. Absolutely nothing to do with it.
So the only reason he demanded the touch up was to provide a witness to his impeccable skin. He would probably have done one of those acne removal cream ads, except he didn't want people to think he'd ever suffered such a terrible affliction. The endorsement offer had hurt to turn down - the closest he'd ever come to feeling real pain.
“Do I even know why I'm here?” he demanded of his manager in a storage closet doubling as a make-up room. “No I don't. Who invited me to this dump anyway? Where are my cue cards? I need one of those drinks with the little umbrellas.”
“I found your cue cards on the floor outside,” a helpful voice said behind him.
Captain Hammer spun around and regarded the woman suspiciously. She looked familiar, but then everyone looked familiar. Except the man he saw in the mirror. Now that was damn fine. He snatched up the cue cards. “Did you read them?”
“No, but I think I'd like to hear your speech,” she said quietly, brushing back her red hair with her fingers. “Do you...remember me?”
Oh no, a fan. He really should stop rescuing some of them if this kept happening.
“Sure, I remember you,” Captain Hammer said easily, while shooting a panicked look at his manager.
The smile his visitor gave him was sweet. Nice. She kept talking. “You know when you saved me from Doctor Horrible? And the van?”
“Ah, Doctor Horrible and the van. Did he bother you again?”
“No. Thank you. I'll be on the stage with the mayor.”
Captain Hammer narrowed his eyes at her. Then he asked for a drink with the little umbrella again and this time got what he ordered. He didn't even notice Penny slipping out the door.
_____________________________________________
Five minutes later, everyone was in position. The audience was seated in awed appreciation, the reporters were leaning forward in their chairs and the mayor was standing before them. Not that anyone paid him any mind - Captain Hammer was also primed in his seat next to Penny. Unbeknownst to a certain corporate tool, other people were ready.
Pink Pummeller lurked in the wings, fondling the curtain cords. Moist leaned up against the wall outside the hall - or was trying to. He kept sliding down onto his butt. And as for Doctor Horrible...everyone would know soon enough.
The mayor invoked the sacred name of Captain Hammer - the audience applauded. Their hero took to the pulpit and waved a hand around at them. He made a patting motion, signalling them to return to an admiring silence. Carefully, he arranged the cue cards in front of him, squinting at the minute text. Hmm, maybe tiny cue cards were a bad idea. He did have big hands after all - and they weren't the biggest part of him.
“We need more places to put the homeless,” he lectured the audience. “Because I'm tired of seeing them on the street. This way I don't have to see them because they will be blooming within the walls of tender loving care. And they get to have free soup.”
Sweeping his hand over the faces in front of him, Captain Hammer made sure to latch eye contact with at least four women. He held the pause just long enough for the smiles to appear. He continued, “You won't hear the homeless complain - it's not their way. Anyway, if they're out of earshot then it's a definite bonus to this city. And each of you - and me, especially me - who signed this petition, made it happen.”
(“What petition?” he'd asked his manager a few days before.
“The one you signed. It has your name.”
“I don't remember a petition. Will there be reporters? If there's reporters then, okay, I'll go. But I need my own dressing room.”)
This memory was momentarily lost in the pleasure of basking in the scope of at least six video cameras. Unfortunately, his last cue card seemed to have followed into the oblivion. Captain Hammer shifted the cue cards around, looking for it and trying to smile around at the audience whose dutiful applause was winding down too rapidly.
Okay. He could improvise. He'd done the improvising thing before. His manager had signed him up for that private drama class for such a situation.
“And that petition thing shows us one thing,” he announced slowly. “That even though I'm the one with all the power, you can do something to save people too. It's not a big something, but you've got to do something, right?”
Sometime during this speech, the red curtain behind Captain Hammer shivered. A soft protesting clunk made them wave even more. The parts touching the floor began to sway. Now sitting next to the mayor, Penny looked over at the curtain. She shook her head, smiled awkwardly around in case anyone was watching and moved quickly off stage.
Here she found Pink Pummeller, hands bound up tightly in the dusty cord as he heaved unsuccessfully. Penny cleared her throat. “Do you need help?”
“No,” he mumbled and pulled again.
“You're not very good at lying,” Penny told him and seized part of the curtain. “Here, let me help. They get a little stuck at the beginning but once you unsnag them - ” The curtain gave under a sharp tug. “ - there you go. Now you can open them.”
“Th-thanks.”
Penny turned away and paused. She looked over at him. “Can you please tell my boyfriend to give me something to do next time?”
An open astonished mouth met this. “You mean - you and Doctor - ”
“You'd better hurry,” Penny advised him and disappeared.
Pink Pummeller hurried. The curtains parted like a red sea of thick cloth, exposing a bare wall to a distracted audience - and the sight of a Freeze Ray aimed right at the pulpit. Stationed at the device was none other than Doctor Horrible.
How'd he get there so fast? Pink P thought admiringly. He wasn't there when I last checked.
He gave himself two more split seconds of appreciation before diving for his costume, stashed underneath a cobweb. It was probably a good thing he didn't notice the spider crawling away.
_____________________________
An icy blast shot from the back of the stage, engulfing Captain Hammer in static periwinkle. Generally this sort of thing didn't happen at the opening of homeless shelters, so at first no one was sure what to do.
There was a collective silence. Then someone gasped. This seemed like a good idea. Everyone gasped.
And then a deep, unsettling laugh slithered from the back of the stage. At the last maniacal note, Doctor Horrible emerged into the spotlights. Several extra flashes lit up the stage, immortalising the visage of a village, for either a front page or an obituary. Captain Hammer was frozen and forgotten - something that really would have irked him if he'd been aware of it.
Although Billy half-wished the hero would share the sensation of burning eyeballs and sunburn radiating from half a dozen different cameras. Half-wished, not entirely wished. Because being blind was slightly better than being hurled against a wall. Or being scraped off one. Or...being eaten by a mutant rabbit.
Shaking his head to clear purple spots in his vision and rogue thoughts from his brain, Dr Horrible laughed again before addressing the stunned members of the public. “Oh, please! Don't stop applauding on my account. Did you seriously listen to that guy?”
Here, Dr Horrible stopped and turned back towards Captain Hammer. That stupid smirk was frozen on his face. “And look at him. Quiet as the grave. Still as the grave. He can't help you. Where's your applause now?”
Someone lost their head in the audience and went shrieking for the exit. He skidded, backstroked wildly in mid-air and then slapped down hard on the ground. The door, mere feet from where he lay, opened. A slight figure in a diving suit entered. He lifted a hand as if to wave at the villain, thought better of it, and shut the door behind him.
Moist then looked down at his victim. “Slip, slop, slap and slide, buddy.”
A reporter attempting to slink closer squealed and went sliding past. Moist watched her, shrugged and planted his feet in line with his shoulders on the slippery floor. He was wearing socks and leg warmers over the diving suit - a dirty pink that looked safely grey enough not to raise any questions among manly men. They were borrowed from Pink Pummeller, and most likely knitted by his grandmother.
Moist wasn't entirely pleased about that, but his feet were really cold. And his outfit was lame and unoriginal. But it had just been sitting there in the bargain bin, waiting for a chance to see daylight...
By now, the message was clear. Captain Hammer was useless, the floor was just as useless - and a terrified citizen had just had a nervous release of gas in the front row. Doctor Horrible now had the floor.
“I am Doctor Horrible,” he continued, once everyone had settled down and were regarding him with stunned expressions. He began descending the stairs at the front of the stage. “And Doctor Horrible is...” A pause. Another long pause. “...is here.”
That could have gone better. Improvising catchphrases in the comfort of one's own secret evil laboratory was one thing - feebly spouting the first and worst thing that came to his head, in public no less, was a mistake almost too fatal to learn from.
He looked around. Where was Penny? Why wasn't she there?
I want her to see this.
God, I'm glad she's not here.
She would understand.
She told me not to lie...
Dr Horrible noted the arrival of Pink Pummeller, also decked out his disguise. Hm. Henchmen with matching pink on their feet. Not exactly the look he was hoping for. The villain cleared his throat. “Please pass anything of intrinsic value and/or nostalgic importance to the nearest henchman. And please, it's double R in Horrible, like the adjective.”
A few pens started madly scribbling. Better. Hopefully this meant there was a good chance no one had recorded his feeble catchphrase. Better still that Captain Hammer hadn't heard it. And yet there were still too many witnesses. It wasn't as if he could silence them, you know. Not unless he fired them all with an eternal Freeze Ray, which would defeat the purpose of the operation.
Nothing quite like robbing an entire hall of people under the very nose of Captain Hammer. But something didn't seem right. It just didn't seem...enough, somehow?
Doctor Horrible climbed the stairs to view over his domain once more. Moist and Pink Pummeller were doing their henchmen duties...there would be rewards, of course, but the greatest reward would be helping him land a seat on the Evil League of Evil, which would be totally cool. Erm, and more than cool.
A subtle breeze puffed over his neck. He looked to the door, then shrugged. But there was a really...really...bad sound.
Then a hand heavier than a three tonne truck landed on his shoulder. Shrugging became slightly difficult following this. In fact, breathing and thinking became a bit out of reach too. It didn't help that all of the audience, even his henchmen, seemed to be looking behind him.
“Um,” said Dr Horrible and promptly ducked.
Captain Hammer's thick fist slammed through the air where his head had been. He scuttled sideways to get a clear look at the Freeze Ray. Seemingly inert - and there was that issue of his arch nemesis being unfrozen.
A heavy boot attached itself to one of his knees and sent him flying backwards into the mayor. Okay, could have been worse. The corporate tool was probably just playing with him. Which...still managed to fill him with dread. Dr Horrible dug a hand through one of his pockets, tugged impatiently - and felt something rip loose.
A very itchy band-aid floated down his leg.
This was the least of his problems, but it was really distracting. Captain Hammer advanced. The mayor pushed him off. The hammer logo grew very big. Dr Horrible bent over low and tried to barrel past towards the Freeze Ray.
Hammer leapt over in a single bound, hard enough so that the wood beneath his feet splintered. He wrapped both hands around the Ray and bent it around his foot. Winking towards the audience, he hurled it up through the ceiling.
Things...were getting a little dire.
Captain Hammer chuckled. “You really think I didn't know about your stupid Freeze Ray? Your stupid...” His eyes travelled down the villain's torso. “...little...Freeze Ray? Really, Doctor, you should be more careful about what you say on that blog of yours.”
“But you were frozen...” Dr Horrible began, and stopped.
“And for how long? Not very. Try not to hit your head too hard on your way down to hell.”
Captain Hammer seized him by the front of his lab coat and hurled him across the room with such force that the knock he took during the Wonderflonium heist was a mere caress by comparison.
Hammer, meet nail. Nail, meet wall.
A sickening pop and a suspicious crunch later, Billy found himself sliding down the wall. Nothing seemed to hurt, which was probably a bad thing. It was nice on the floor though.
He closed his eyes. Kind of peaceful, actually. If you ignored the shouting, the stampeding feet, the hazy painless throbbing...which suddenly wasn't quite as painless as it could have been...
This was the time for some improvising.
Doctor Horrible passed out.
to be concluded
AN2: ... hmm, well that took far too many months to write. I apologise for it - I spent the past 6 months wanting to write chapter 3, and realising I had to write chapter 2 to get to it...