LJ Presents: Doom Gets a Genie, part four
It's time for the epic conclusion! Some of you have been left in agony by LJ's latest round of cliffhangers; I was right there with you. Having to wait a week between playing each installment was torture - seldom have I been so eager to bolt up the stairs each Saturday and lose all track of time. And the twists she came up with? I tell you, I didn't see half of them coming. Looking back over all her tales, her development as a storyteller is a marvel (heh) to behold.
All that said, this finale has an extra special something in it. Like the Torunn/Loki game, there's an element of LJ's personal feelings in here - and on a very deep subject too. So enjoy, friends, and click the link to find out how the Avengers get out of this mess!
LJ presents:
DOOM GETS A GENIE
PART THREE: LIFE IN DOOMSVILLE
Written and directed by LJ
Novelisation by SF
Hawkeye looked up... and up, and up... as Dr Victor von Doom, lord of Latveria, grew hundreds of times larger. He did not flinch as the towering, armoured behemoth raised a single mighty hand and prepared to swat him and his friends, the Avengers, like so many irritating bugs. And while his team mates flexed gamma-powered muscles and hefted fearsome weaponry, ready to fight this god-like Doom with every ounce of their strength, Hawkeye was struck by a single, unassailable thought.
"I don't believe this," he muttered.
And, just like that, the enormous Dr Doom faded from existence.
Silence fell over the battlefield. Heroes and villains alike blinked, wondering what the heck had just happened. Captain America recovered first. "Avengers, take 'em down," he commanded, and the good guys swarmed over their enemies. Empowered by the genie's magic though they were, Kang and the other villains were suffering from a crisis of conscience. Fortunately for them, their upgraded abilities allowed them to hold their own - reducing the battle to something of a stalemate. Almost forgotten in the chaos, the genie - sad that, like every master before, Doom had just used him - popped back into his lamp.
Above it all, Doom watched.
The tin-plated tyrant did not understand. He could see the conflict... in fact, he could see everything. Not just the battle but all of Latveria and Villainville... every inch of Doomsville... everywhere in the country, everywhere in the world. He could hear the thoughts of the entire global population murmuring softly in his ear, sense the kaleidoscope of life teeming all across the planet! He could observe it all, instantly, as if he was everywhere at once, but could do nothing to affect anything.
Realisation dawned. Sickening, terrifying realisation. "Oh no," Doom whispered to himself. "My final wish! I told the genie to make me God. Not a god, with all the powers and abilities inherent... God Himself. The genie made me omniscient and omnipresent, possessed of fantastical creation powers. But because no one believes in me - because there is no faith to draw on - I can do nothing!" He felt like screaming at the heavens. "I must remedy this situation immediately and, much as it pains me to say, there is but one being in all the world who can help me right now."
Miles away, in the room under the Avengers Mansion staircase, an oh-so-slightly delusional reformed mercenary was hosting a radio talk back show. It was a game he'd invented in his spare time (of which he'd had oodles this week, on account of his latest "transgressions" against Mansion rules) and one of his favourites. He got to be the host, the guy working the sound board and alllll the whacky callers! It was like the whole world had gone Deadpool! And that made Deadpool smile.
"Lllllet's hear from our next caller, all the way from the other side of the wall," Deadpool said to himself in his best radio host voice, "you might know him as ol' tin face, or metal mug, or the sour-breathed steel sourpuss, but here on the show we call him..."
"Deadpool!" Doom yelled.
"Wha?" Deadpool looked around. "Hey, my Doom voice is getting better! And I've somehow become a ventriloquist!" He flashed a thumbs up. "Today is awesome!"
"Shut up, you ridiculous fool, and listen to me," Doom commanded. Angrily, his frustrations boiling over, Doom explained his situation to Deadpool. "Thanks to your... tenuous grip... on reality, you're the only person who can hear me," the villain growled. "You need to start a church in my name - immediately! Round up followers from Doomsville, at sword-point if you have to! I need a pointy-roofed building full of willing worshippers immediately and, like it or not, you have to be my priest!"
Deadpool yawned. "Sorry, Doomy, but that sounds like a real drag." He dropped into a beanbag (stolen from the Hulk's room, so it was extra-big and extra-comfy) and started polishing his swords. "Besides, I have zero interest in being a messiah. Too much like hard work."
The invisible Doom seethed. "Oh, you'll help me all right," he bellowed, "or I'll keep yelling inside your mind 24 hours a day, seven days a week, so loud that I'll drown out all the other voices in your head!"
"No," Deadpool pleaded, dropping to his knees. "Not the voices in my head! They're my best friends! There's the voice that tells me to chop things up, and the voice that tells me to pick my scabs, and the voice that says I should do good things... although, admittedly, I haven't heard from that guy in ages and he tends to whisper... I think the other voices beat him up and steal his lunch money..."
Doom roared again, and Deadpool dropped to the floor in agony. He tried to block his new tenant out by thinking happy thoughts ("guns... swords... money... red-headed master assassins...") but it was no use. Insane though he was, the merc with a mouth sure wasn't crazy. He wasn't about to start up the Church of Doom and hand the despot ultimate power - but nor could he handle a lifetime of Latveria-sized migraines. Terrifyingly, the fate of the entire world - nay, the universe! - rested on his red-and-black shoulders. Fortunately, Deadpool had a sure-fire plan... he'd bash his head repeatedly against the door until Doom stopped yelling at him!
Unfortunately for Deadpool and the world, the door gave way long before Doom's shouting did. Plan A having failed, Deadpool moved on to Plan B: recovering the genie Doom had babbled about. To do that, he needed to get to Latveria. Which meant sneaking into Doomsville, stealing a vehicle (probably a police car, with cool lights and sirens and, ooh, a hat!) and driving into the middle of the Avengers/Doom-suited bad guys melee he'd seen on the view screen in his room. "A perfect end to a perfect day," Deadpool beamed, then winced as Doom started frothing at the intangible mouth again.
Back at the battlefield, Shield Maiden, Ironclad and Torunn did all they could to help the Avengers. But the young heroes found their attention often wandered to Cynthia von Doom. She stood atop the battlements of the flat-packed castle, a portrait of conflict and sadness, waiting for a sign that she had made the right decision. The trio's hearts ached, knowing she'd not find peace regardless of the outcome. Either Doom's forces would win and conquer the rest of the world, or the Avengers would triump and Cynthia would see her son for the dictator he really was.
"Gangway," someone yelled. "Guy possibly possessed by an overbearing dictator with a strange penchant for green capes, coming through!"
Deadpool seemingly appeared in the middle of the fracas, wearing a police officer's and dragging a car muffler behind him. The trio watched him closely. He'd run full-steam toward some of the combatants, get in the middle of their struggle and yell "Doom in my head, doom in my head, arrgh!" then run off once more. Each of the Avengers made great use of the distraction he provided, exploiting the confusion to finally get the upper hand on their opponents. Deadpool, meanwhile, made a bee-line for the Doomwalker and climbed it like a monkey.
Torunn figured it out first. "The lamp," she cried. "Curse me for a fool - the lamp is the key to everything! Doom did not become a god, he became the God and is influencing poor Deadpool's brain! If he gets it, he will do the tyrant's bidding and..."
"No," Ironclad corrected, "he's going to undo everything. Come on, I have a plan."
The girls punched, kicked and fought their way through the last of the melee to reach Deadpool. He was back at ground level, clutching the lamp to his chest while he pounded his head against the Doomwalker's metal leg. "Get him out, get him out, get him out," he whined. "It's at the point where I swear I can smell his bad breath in my medulla oblongata!"
"It's all right," Ironclad soothed. "You're holding a real genie's lamp there, Deadpool. Three wishes, just like in the stories. All you need to do is rub the lamp and ask the genie to undo everything Doom did, and you'll feel better again."
"Okay," Deadpool said wearily. He rubbed the lamp and, with a flash of magical energy, the genie popped out once more. It bowed humbly to Deadpool, as tradition and duty demanded, and asked for his first wish.
"Wait!" Shield Maiden shouted. "What about Cynthia?"
The mother of Doom had come down from her tower to join them. She had the power to fry them all to a crisp with the merest gesture yet she merely looked on, still waiting for a sign. "We can't undo everything Doom did, or Cynthia winds up back in Mephisto's prison," Shield Maiden continued.
"If Doom can stretch the rules," Torunn said, " then so can we. Tell the mouthy one to wish for all Doom did save his mother's fate to be undone!"
Deadpool stared at her uncomprehendingly. "Sorry, I failed Shakespeare; what did you just say?"
Ironclad took control. "Deadpool," she said, looking straight into his eyes, "you need to rub the lamp and ask the genie to undo everything Doom did except for rescuing his mother. Got it?"
"No," Doom cried, unheard by all save Deadpool. "Tell the genie to give me followers! A church! A religion of Doom!"
The reformed mercenary held his head, battered and ear-bashed from all sides (including inside). "Okay okay okay," he yelled, holding up his hands, "I'll do it, I'll make a wish! Genie, for my first wish, I want you to... give me a great big banana cream pie!"
"As you wish it," the genie bowed, "so it shall be." With a wave of his golden fingers, the genie brought a beautiful dessert into the world.
The heroes and Doom watched, aghast, as Deadpool messily devoured the sugary treat. Mumbling something about "low blood sugar", he wiped the last of the frosting from his face and asked what he should do next. Again, the heroes and Doom shouted orders and, again, Deadpool was quickly overwhelmed. Never the most intelligent of people, he fell back into silliness and made his second wish: for a pair of noise-cancelling headphones!
Ironclad snatched the headphones from Deadpool's aching skull and grabbed him by the cheeks. "Listen here, you doofus," she said, "and repeat after me: genie, I want you to undo everything Doom has done except for rescuing his mother!"
Her words cut through the fog and drowned out Doom's indignation just long enough to make an impression on Deadpool's fevered consciousness. In dull, robotic tones he aped her every syllable and (with a certain amount of satisfaction) the genie announced it would be done. The ground beneath their feet shook and shuddered as the transplanted nation of Latveria began to rise into the air; the heroes grabbed their foes and pulled them to the safety of Villainville before the continental chunk started soaring back to its rightful place in the world. And, though they did not know it yet, Doomsville was rapidly being replaced by Super Hero City once again. Doom's 48-hour reign of terror had ended.
Shield Maiden, Ironclad and Torunn turned to see Cynthia von Doom bathed in light. She was smiling at last, as if a great weight had lifted from her heart. "Thank you," she whispered. The incandescence around her turned into a beam of sunshine - a golden ladder to the heavens - and she rose, freed from both her infernal torment and earthly concerns. Halfway to Heaven, Cynthia passed her son. He was on his way back down, relieved of his temporary position as deity, and for a brief moment mother and son touched hands and shared an understanding.
Down below, Deadpool was delirious with relief. "I'm saved," he cried. "I'll never have to worry about Doom in my head ever again!" Which was, of course, the moment Doom tumbled from the heavens and landed smack on top of the dancing swordsman. "Ow," Deadpool grunted. "God has a sick sense of humour."
Doom rose, dusted himself off and, showing not an inkling of discomfort or gratitude, regally ordered the Avengers out of Villainville. They obeyed because of the villain's diplomatic immunity. "What a jerk," Shield Maiden scowled, kicking at the dirt with a very scuffed Statue of Liberty-style sandal. "He'd have been stuck in... wherever... for the rest of eternity without us, not to mention his momma would be in the really bad place!"
"He knows, kiddo," Captain America said, putting an arm around her shoulders, "and that's exactly why he didn't say anything. There's an honourable man somewhere deep beneath that armour, but his voice has long been muffled by the self-important tyrant wrapped around it."
"Not to mention the armour," Deadpool replied. "That heavy, heavy armour. Almost as heavy as Iron Man's pants. Which, I should point out, I have never tried on and know absolutely nothing about..."
Doom said nothing as they left. He did not speak as Kang, MODOK and the others - now stripped of their enhanced powers - picked themselves up and limped back inside the flat-packed castle. He stood in complete silence, at the edge of Villainville, for almost an hour. He did not bemoan the failure of his plan, the loss of his omniscience or even the utter incompetence of his henchmen. Instead, Victor von Doom thought of his mother, her smile, the gentleness of her embrace and the look of utter peace on her face as she'd ascended to the world beyond.
And, for perhaps the first time in his life, he was happy.
-----THE END-----
Greet the Fire as Your Friend,
SF
All that said, this finale has an extra special something in it. Like the Torunn/Loki game, there's an element of LJ's personal feelings in here - and on a very deep subject too. So enjoy, friends, and click the link to find out how the Avengers get out of this mess!
LJ presents:
DOOM GETS A GENIE
PART THREE: LIFE IN DOOMSVILLE
Written and directed by LJ
Novelisation by SF
Hawkeye looked up... and up, and up... as Dr Victor von Doom, lord of Latveria, grew hundreds of times larger. He did not flinch as the towering, armoured behemoth raised a single mighty hand and prepared to swat him and his friends, the Avengers, like so many irritating bugs. And while his team mates flexed gamma-powered muscles and hefted fearsome weaponry, ready to fight this god-like Doom with every ounce of their strength, Hawkeye was struck by a single, unassailable thought.
"I don't believe this," he muttered.
And, just like that, the enormous Dr Doom faded from existence.
Silence fell over the battlefield. Heroes and villains alike blinked, wondering what the heck had just happened. Captain America recovered first. "Avengers, take 'em down," he commanded, and the good guys swarmed over their enemies. Empowered by the genie's magic though they were, Kang and the other villains were suffering from a crisis of conscience. Fortunately for them, their upgraded abilities allowed them to hold their own - reducing the battle to something of a stalemate. Almost forgotten in the chaos, the genie - sad that, like every master before, Doom had just used him - popped back into his lamp.
Above it all, Doom watched.
The tin-plated tyrant did not understand. He could see the conflict... in fact, he could see everything. Not just the battle but all of Latveria and Villainville... every inch of Doomsville... everywhere in the country, everywhere in the world. He could hear the thoughts of the entire global population murmuring softly in his ear, sense the kaleidoscope of life teeming all across the planet! He could observe it all, instantly, as if he was everywhere at once, but could do nothing to affect anything.
Realisation dawned. Sickening, terrifying realisation. "Oh no," Doom whispered to himself. "My final wish! I told the genie to make me God. Not a god, with all the powers and abilities inherent... God Himself. The genie made me omniscient and omnipresent, possessed of fantastical creation powers. But because no one believes in me - because there is no faith to draw on - I can do nothing!" He felt like screaming at the heavens. "I must remedy this situation immediately and, much as it pains me to say, there is but one being in all the world who can help me right now."
Miles away, in the room under the Avengers Mansion staircase, an oh-so-slightly delusional reformed mercenary was hosting a radio talk back show. It was a game he'd invented in his spare time (of which he'd had oodles this week, on account of his latest "transgressions" against Mansion rules) and one of his favourites. He got to be the host, the guy working the sound board and alllll the whacky callers! It was like the whole world had gone Deadpool! And that made Deadpool smile.
"Lllllet's hear from our next caller, all the way from the other side of the wall," Deadpool said to himself in his best radio host voice, "you might know him as ol' tin face, or metal mug, or the sour-breathed steel sourpuss, but here on the show we call him..."
"Deadpool!" Doom yelled.
"Wha?" Deadpool looked around. "Hey, my Doom voice is getting better! And I've somehow become a ventriloquist!" He flashed a thumbs up. "Today is awesome!"
"Shut up, you ridiculous fool, and listen to me," Doom commanded. Angrily, his frustrations boiling over, Doom explained his situation to Deadpool. "Thanks to your... tenuous grip... on reality, you're the only person who can hear me," the villain growled. "You need to start a church in my name - immediately! Round up followers from Doomsville, at sword-point if you have to! I need a pointy-roofed building full of willing worshippers immediately and, like it or not, you have to be my priest!"
Deadpool yawned. "Sorry, Doomy, but that sounds like a real drag." He dropped into a beanbag (stolen from the Hulk's room, so it was extra-big and extra-comfy) and started polishing his swords. "Besides, I have zero interest in being a messiah. Too much like hard work."
The invisible Doom seethed. "Oh, you'll help me all right," he bellowed, "or I'll keep yelling inside your mind 24 hours a day, seven days a week, so loud that I'll drown out all the other voices in your head!"
"No," Deadpool pleaded, dropping to his knees. "Not the voices in my head! They're my best friends! There's the voice that tells me to chop things up, and the voice that tells me to pick my scabs, and the voice that says I should do good things... although, admittedly, I haven't heard from that guy in ages and he tends to whisper... I think the other voices beat him up and steal his lunch money..."
Doom roared again, and Deadpool dropped to the floor in agony. He tried to block his new tenant out by thinking happy thoughts ("guns... swords... money... red-headed master assassins...") but it was no use. Insane though he was, the merc with a mouth sure wasn't crazy. He wasn't about to start up the Church of Doom and hand the despot ultimate power - but nor could he handle a lifetime of Latveria-sized migraines. Terrifyingly, the fate of the entire world - nay, the universe! - rested on his red-and-black shoulders. Fortunately, Deadpool had a sure-fire plan... he'd bash his head repeatedly against the door until Doom stopped yelling at him!
Unfortunately for Deadpool and the world, the door gave way long before Doom's shouting did. Plan A having failed, Deadpool moved on to Plan B: recovering the genie Doom had babbled about. To do that, he needed to get to Latveria. Which meant sneaking into Doomsville, stealing a vehicle (probably a police car, with cool lights and sirens and, ooh, a hat!) and driving into the middle of the Avengers/Doom-suited bad guys melee he'd seen on the view screen in his room. "A perfect end to a perfect day," Deadpool beamed, then winced as Doom started frothing at the intangible mouth again.
Back at the battlefield, Shield Maiden, Ironclad and Torunn did all they could to help the Avengers. But the young heroes found their attention often wandered to Cynthia von Doom. She stood atop the battlements of the flat-packed castle, a portrait of conflict and sadness, waiting for a sign that she had made the right decision. The trio's hearts ached, knowing she'd not find peace regardless of the outcome. Either Doom's forces would win and conquer the rest of the world, or the Avengers would triump and Cynthia would see her son for the dictator he really was.
"Gangway," someone yelled. "Guy possibly possessed by an overbearing dictator with a strange penchant for green capes, coming through!"
Deadpool seemingly appeared in the middle of the fracas, wearing a police officer's and dragging a car muffler behind him. The trio watched him closely. He'd run full-steam toward some of the combatants, get in the middle of their struggle and yell "Doom in my head, doom in my head, arrgh!" then run off once more. Each of the Avengers made great use of the distraction he provided, exploiting the confusion to finally get the upper hand on their opponents. Deadpool, meanwhile, made a bee-line for the Doomwalker and climbed it like a monkey.
Torunn figured it out first. "The lamp," she cried. "Curse me for a fool - the lamp is the key to everything! Doom did not become a god, he became the God and is influencing poor Deadpool's brain! If he gets it, he will do the tyrant's bidding and..."
"No," Ironclad corrected, "he's going to undo everything. Come on, I have a plan."
The girls punched, kicked and fought their way through the last of the melee to reach Deadpool. He was back at ground level, clutching the lamp to his chest while he pounded his head against the Doomwalker's metal leg. "Get him out, get him out, get him out," he whined. "It's at the point where I swear I can smell his bad breath in my medulla oblongata!"
"It's all right," Ironclad soothed. "You're holding a real genie's lamp there, Deadpool. Three wishes, just like in the stories. All you need to do is rub the lamp and ask the genie to undo everything Doom did, and you'll feel better again."
"Okay," Deadpool said wearily. He rubbed the lamp and, with a flash of magical energy, the genie popped out once more. It bowed humbly to Deadpool, as tradition and duty demanded, and asked for his first wish.
"Wait!" Shield Maiden shouted. "What about Cynthia?"
The mother of Doom had come down from her tower to join them. She had the power to fry them all to a crisp with the merest gesture yet she merely looked on, still waiting for a sign. "We can't undo everything Doom did, or Cynthia winds up back in Mephisto's prison," Shield Maiden continued.
"If Doom can stretch the rules," Torunn said, " then so can we. Tell the mouthy one to wish for all Doom did save his mother's fate to be undone!"
Deadpool stared at her uncomprehendingly. "Sorry, I failed Shakespeare; what did you just say?"
Ironclad took control. "Deadpool," she said, looking straight into his eyes, "you need to rub the lamp and ask the genie to undo everything Doom did except for rescuing his mother. Got it?"
"No," Doom cried, unheard by all save Deadpool. "Tell the genie to give me followers! A church! A religion of Doom!"
The reformed mercenary held his head, battered and ear-bashed from all sides (including inside). "Okay okay okay," he yelled, holding up his hands, "I'll do it, I'll make a wish! Genie, for my first wish, I want you to... give me a great big banana cream pie!"
"As you wish it," the genie bowed, "so it shall be." With a wave of his golden fingers, the genie brought a beautiful dessert into the world.
The heroes and Doom watched, aghast, as Deadpool messily devoured the sugary treat. Mumbling something about "low blood sugar", he wiped the last of the frosting from his face and asked what he should do next. Again, the heroes and Doom shouted orders and, again, Deadpool was quickly overwhelmed. Never the most intelligent of people, he fell back into silliness and made his second wish: for a pair of noise-cancelling headphones!
Ironclad snatched the headphones from Deadpool's aching skull and grabbed him by the cheeks. "Listen here, you doofus," she said, "and repeat after me: genie, I want you to undo everything Doom has done except for rescuing his mother!"
Her words cut through the fog and drowned out Doom's indignation just long enough to make an impression on Deadpool's fevered consciousness. In dull, robotic tones he aped her every syllable and (with a certain amount of satisfaction) the genie announced it would be done. The ground beneath their feet shook and shuddered as the transplanted nation of Latveria began to rise into the air; the heroes grabbed their foes and pulled them to the safety of Villainville before the continental chunk started soaring back to its rightful place in the world. And, though they did not know it yet, Doomsville was rapidly being replaced by Super Hero City once again. Doom's 48-hour reign of terror had ended.
Shield Maiden, Ironclad and Torunn turned to see Cynthia von Doom bathed in light. She was smiling at last, as if a great weight had lifted from her heart. "Thank you," she whispered. The incandescence around her turned into a beam of sunshine - a golden ladder to the heavens - and she rose, freed from both her infernal torment and earthly concerns. Halfway to Heaven, Cynthia passed her son. He was on his way back down, relieved of his temporary position as deity, and for a brief moment mother and son touched hands and shared an understanding.
Down below, Deadpool was delirious with relief. "I'm saved," he cried. "I'll never have to worry about Doom in my head ever again!" Which was, of course, the moment Doom tumbled from the heavens and landed smack on top of the dancing swordsman. "Ow," Deadpool grunted. "God has a sick sense of humour."
Doom rose, dusted himself off and, showing not an inkling of discomfort or gratitude, regally ordered the Avengers out of Villainville. They obeyed because of the villain's diplomatic immunity. "What a jerk," Shield Maiden scowled, kicking at the dirt with a very scuffed Statue of Liberty-style sandal. "He'd have been stuck in... wherever... for the rest of eternity without us, not to mention his momma would be in the really bad place!"
"He knows, kiddo," Captain America said, putting an arm around her shoulders, "and that's exactly why he didn't say anything. There's an honourable man somewhere deep beneath that armour, but his voice has long been muffled by the self-important tyrant wrapped around it."
"Not to mention the armour," Deadpool replied. "That heavy, heavy armour. Almost as heavy as Iron Man's pants. Which, I should point out, I have never tried on and know absolutely nothing about..."
Doom said nothing as they left. He did not speak as Kang, MODOK and the others - now stripped of their enhanced powers - picked themselves up and limped back inside the flat-packed castle. He stood in complete silence, at the edge of Villainville, for almost an hour. He did not bemoan the failure of his plan, the loss of his omniscience or even the utter incompetence of his henchmen. Instead, Victor von Doom thought of his mother, her smile, the gentleness of her embrace and the look of utter peace on her face as she'd ascended to the world beyond.
And, for perhaps the first time in his life, he was happy.
-----THE END-----
Greet the Fire as Your Friend,
SF