It's Like Being a Teenager All Over Again

So I made the rookie mistake of going over to my parent's house for dinner.

Yeah, I know. What the hell was I thinking?

I'll tell you what I was thinking... "MMMMmmm... Foooood."

Among the many skills I learned from my mother was how to cook and I'm pretty damn good at it. Of course, since I now live alone, I've gone on strike and I refuse to cook unless absolutely necessary. Once in a while I will cook but only because I want to do something nice for someone I particularly care about... but it's rare.

In the past 5 months I've cooked three times. I made apple pie once and twice I made cookies. Both times were gifts for people I consider friends (so if you've eaten something I've made for you, you ought to know that makes you REALLY special).

Anyway.

I was hungry. I was also craving some company, as I've spent the week holed up in the Batcave recovering from the latest Superhero escapade. (Honestly, I'm not sure if I'll finish it, I'm definitely getting the impression that no one but me is entertained by them... But maybe that's just the seclusion talking... We'll see).

The evening started off with a whimper and only got worse. First off, my darling family wanted to know if I had spent the week cleaning. (My charming mother just loves to revile me for "living like a 21 year old boy" and never cleaning my house, personally, I figure that since no one has to see it but me, what difference does it make if it's clean?) With a sigh, I informed her that, no, I hadn't done any cleaning.

Then my father came home. The first thing he asked me was, "So, did you go out and meet any eligible men this week?"And then he laughed uproariously at his own humor. Again, I sighed. This time I took the liberty of rooting around in the fridge... Thank Carlos for my good friend Samuel Adams...

I just knew that my mother's cooking couldn't possibly be good enough for me to continue to subject myself to this. Still, the smell in the air was pretty good, so I hung in there while my father laughed at my response.

And then my sister appeared. She still lives with my parents. She wanted to ask me, "When are you taking me to Concord? There are some movies I want you to buy me..." and then proceded to list off about ten videos she wants me to purchase for her.

Um, yeah. 'Cause I'm just made of money.

Again, I communed with my close personal friend Sammie Adams. He at least wore a comforting smile as he raised a tankard to me from his lable on the beverage.

I burned my tongue on the soup but it's a good thing since I have learned that in my parent's house it's a wise policy to just keep your head down and not say too much.

Needless to say, I do not blend.

My parent's idea of a rousing good time is watching a NASCAR race with any three of their toothless (and I DO mean that) local friends while scratching themselves and burping.

Not that I'm too good for the occasional burp... And I can admit that Dale Earnhardt Jr. is a rather attractive gentleman...

But even still.

The evening ended early as I bolted out the door after repeatedly refusing offers of left-overs which will do nothing except sit in my fridge until they petrify. Before I left my father had criticized my spending habits and my lacadasical attitude about getting my oil changed and my mother had berated me for not having a 401K plan and refusing to go to bars to meet men.

Yeah. She went there.

Sam, please help me.

By the time I left I could feel the emotional weight of being completely opressed strapped to my back, almost as if I were carrying around a backpack with a 3 year old in it.

I love my family.

Very much.

But it's much better to love them from a distance.

Is it any wonder I jog late at night, in the dark, wearing black? With a family like mine, living dangerously is the only relief I get sometimes...

Mobsters and Superheroes and Attempted Rescues...Oh My!

For a few minutes after the phone call I simply stared at the dreaded instrument.

I had done it. I'd called even though I'd sworn to myself that I'd never do it.

I briefly considered regretting my actions but it was too late for that. Every second I spend on regret is a second spent NOT eating cheesecake, so forget it is what I say.

In that spirit, I shook it off mentally and moved slowly out of the office. I braced myself against the door before leaving and took a deep breath to fortify myself against the pain in my head. My next move was to leave Basecamp and head for Room 106 to get some Aleve. I was fine until I reached the hallway and saw the remains of Shaggy's wings lying on the floor. Dropping to my knees as my stomach clenched, I barely avoided landing in my own vomit when I fell over.

It was most certainly NOT my finest hour.

About an hour later Vito Cantara arrived with five large thugs. Somehow they managed to get into the Saltmine without setting off the alarm. One minute I was sitting in Room 106 trying to breathe deeply, the next there were 6 guys walking into my room with suspicious bulges under the arms of their expensive suit jackets.

Each of these guys was as large and ugly as the last. One of them in particular offended me, not with his mob couture but by the fact that he had evidently bathed in Drakkar Noir. Don't get me wrong, ordinarily the cologne would not have bothered me, but the copious amount he had used was making my head pound in earnest... I was afraid of a repeat of my recent performance in the hall outside Room 117.

Luckily, before I had a chance to vomit up the remaining contents of my stomach, Vito noticed my distress and sent "Butters" to wait out in the hallway as a safety precaution.

He then sat down at one of the larger desks, making it look like he was an enormous kindergartener... with a mustache. He raised an eyebrow and in a droll tone with the scratchy voice of a two-pack-day man said, "You rang?"

I told him the entire grisly tale.

For several long moments he was silent. Then he reached into an inner pocket, took out an absurdly tiny cell phone, pressed a button, and said, "Get me information on Kenneth Andreas and Red Shiruken." There was a brief pause before he said, "Not good enough. You've got ten minutes," and snapped the phone shut. Looking at me again he said, "Do you still remember how to drive a tank?"

I nodded.

And just like that, a rescue plan was set in motion.

Proof That I've Lost My Frickin' Mind

It is snowing outside.

So far over 4 inches have fallen.

So naturally I decided to go running.

Three miles...To the Smallborotonville Town Hall and back...uphill for the first mile and a half.

I met a snowplow on my way there and another on the way back.

I am aware that I'm insane but like all insane plans, it seemed like a good idea at the time...

When I got home I had a great deal of snow on my head. I looked like a melting abominable snowwoman. But oddly enough, I felt pretty damn good...better after a shower though.

There are no streetlights where I live (except at the fire house which is located at the 1 mile mark from my house. Oddly enough, I didn't need any, the snow seemed to glow with a light of its own. And it was strangely warm out there... of course that could just have been the insanity of the endorphins.

That and the music. Disjointed playlists are my forte.

Four months ago I never would have done something like that... Unless I were wearing rollerblades...

So clearly, this is proof that I've lost my mind...

But don't worry, I have a $250,000.00 accidental death clause in my insurance.

And you're in my will.

The Pirate Queen Enlists Help from the Mob to Save Her Superheroes

When I finally awoke, I was alone in Room 117. The lights were off except for the ones in the office and the Saltmine was silent except for a slight hum from the air filtration system and a low, continuous rattling of pipes and ductwork. The air smelled slightly coppery; though the blood had been shed in the hall, its metallic odor seemed to be everywhere.

I was still trussed up like a mummy ready for placement in a sarcophagus and I felt about that lively. My head ached, my hands and feet were numb from bondage and my hip hurt from lying on the horrible smelling indoor-outdoor carpeted concrete that the Saltmine considers the height of interior decorating.

I attempted to contact Seymour but it was useless, the only thing I received when calling his name in my head was a jolt of pain and a brief red flash. I lay completely still and considered my options…

After taking a few deep breaths, I tried to steel myself against the pain in my head and bent at the waist so I could pull on my pant leg. I knew that if I could only bend in the right way I could reach the knife I always keep in my boot. Thank Carlos the ninjas hadn't searched me or I probably would have died of dehydration long before anyone came back to the Saltmine and found me. After about 20 minutes of agony, during which time I came perilously close to passing out a few times, I freed myself. After When the bonds were cut I simply rolled over on my back and lay staring at the ceiling, praying for some sort of divine intervention… Or, failing that, divine inspiration.

Whichever deity happened to be in the celestial office that day failed to respond to my plea, no doubt writing me off as a completely lost cause… Probably a decent call, given my circumstances.

Eventually, when I could stand up without my head actually exploding all over Base camp in a red and grey shower of blood, bone and brain matter, I teetered over to the phone, cursing myself for my penchant for high heels. When I reached it, I knew that there was only one person I could call… I had never before been desperate enough to ask for his help but I knew he would answer. I could only hope that whatever strings were attached to his assistance would be worth the price of what he could offer me in return.

I called Vito Cantara.

I realize that I've never talked about him before, so here's some back story…

Once upon a time I was an innocent college girl. This was long before the days of attempted world domination, super powers, or even lightening quick grammarian reflexes. I was young and stupid and I ended up trying to help a friend who'd gotten herself into some trouble with a house full of angry, drunken fratboys. Well, the long and short of it was, I managed to hold my own against the louts only briefly before she and I were soundly beaten and left for dead on a back road in Swanzey, NH. Through some effort of will that I was unaware I possessed, I managed to carry my even more beaten and bruised friend to a small country store with a pay phone.

The next day I woke up in the hospital. My friend was in intensive care and I was only faring slightly better… But when I woke, after my parents left, a man came into the room. I had never seen him before and frankly, he scared the hell out of me. He was built like an oil tanker in an Armani suit. From my position on the gurney he looked to be 8 feet tall, with jet black hair graying at the temples, eyes so brown they were nearly black and a mustache that appeared to have been borrowed from Omar Sharif.

He didn't say anything to me for the first few days but whenever I woke up he was there, either at my bedside or lurking somewhere in the background. He got me ice water, he had me moved to a private room, he even got me food that wasn't the standard hospital goop they usually pawn off on peons like me. Every time I woke from my troubled sleep there were more flowers, candy and luxuries around me.

On the third day of my convalescence he told me who he was. It seems that my friend Amanda had a "dirty little secret" she'd never told anyone. Her mother had been a show girl in Atlantic City back in the 70's and had a brief fling with Vito Cantara, then a mid-level knee-breaker in Jersey. When she'd discovered her failure to use suitable birthcontrol and its consequences, she'd run for the hills. Vito had allowed her to go but had kept tabs on his daughter for years, via PIs and guys with telephoto lenses on their cameras.

Amanda never fully recovered from her beating, however, Vito considered me to be the one responsible for saving her life regardless of how limited it would become if she ever came out of her coma. We talked for hours, mostly about her and what a great person she was. He never asked me any questions about what happened and even held my hand when I cried.

On my final day in the hospital he told me that if I ever needed anything I was to call him, no matter what, no questions asked. He swore he would help.

Privately, I swore never to call. Although he'd been nothing but kind to me, I knew that getting involved with anyone who had those kind of connections was nothing but a bad idea and worse karma. To this day, no matter what has come my way I've managed somehow to struggle through on my own.

I'm tough. I can take it.

But not this time... It wasn't just about me anymore.

The phone rang once before it was picked up. Into the silence I said,

"Mr. Cantara, this is Virginia Warren. I need your help."

There was a brief pause before the familiar voice responded,

"I'll find you. Stay where you are."

There was a click. I replaced the receiver in its cradle and stared at the phone.

It was done.

I would get my Superheroes back no matter what… Consequences be damned.

Happy Birthday!!!...Now Here's a Bill for 200 Dollars (A Public Service Rant)

Although I sometimes get a bit melancholy by the end of the day, I really do love my birthday. I appreciate that I'm lucky to have lived so long and to have, what is in my opinion, a large number of people in my life who care about me.

'Nuff said.

However, there is something else that occurs in February every year that I do not love. It is the direct result of my birthday being in this, the shortest of all months...

Car registration and inspection.

Ahh yes, it's THAT time again.

Here's what happened...

I live less than three miles away from the Smallborotonville Town Hall. If there weren't a hill and a couple of acres of trees in the way, I'd be able to see it from the Batcave balcony off my bedroom.

The very idea causes me to shudder. This is why.

First off...It's the first day of my small vacation from the Saltmine... I actually slept in until 7:30 am (an almost unheard of late hour, as anyone who knows my habits can testify). When I did get up, I felt absolutely no desire to get dressed.

NONE.

So I chilled for a bit, drank a Red Bull, then a cup of coffee... Posted a blog and played some computer games.

Finally I worked up the gumption to put on a pair of pajama pants and a tanktop. (GO ME!!) Within moments I was pulling on my pirate boots and heading out the door. For just a moment I paused in front of my reflection wondering if I should do something about my hair, (I feared that I resembled an escaped mental patient) but I just couldn't bring myself to care... So I clicked out the door in pajamas, tanktop and high heels, shoving my hair under a white pageboy cap I purchased a few years ago in Paris.

Yes, I was fashion roadkill of monumental proportions.

I failed to care.

Moments later I showed up, right on schedule for the opening of the hall. I intended to pay my debt to the government and leave as soon as was humanly possible.

Once more, as has so often been the case in my life, I made an incorrect assumption and paid dire consequences as a result...Much like in my juvenile arrest for grand theft auto, my youthful marriage, and my attempted take over of Burkina Faso, I was doomed to failure and pain.

First off, there was the mean dragon lady who worked in the Hall. Though I greeted her with a smile and a hearty "Good morning!" She failed to return either the smile or the greeting. Instead she turned a shade of green not found anywhere in nature, grew fangs and horns, and snarled at me, "WE AREN'T OPEN FOR ANOTHER TEN MINUTES!"

Surruptitiously I glanced down at my cell phone. According to the time display, it was exactly 10:15am. The sign outside the hall claimed that the office of registry opened at 10:00.

I said nothing but the dragonlady had seen my covert glance and snarled once more before slamming the window between us and turning away.

My righteous pirate indignation threatened to rise but I pushed it way down deep, smiled, took a step back and prepared to wait the 10 minutes patiently.

Approximately 20 minutes later my feet hurt and the ire was back. Just before my head actually imploded the dragonlady returned. Growling at me once more, she opened the window and said, "Registration?"

I shook my head and laid my paperwork on the counter.

She took one look at it and began to berate me for not having signed the form. She complained that for an entire year I had been driving around illegally without having signed the form and she suggested that in the future I grow a brain and stop being such a pathetic loser. I could feel the blood draining from my face and my hands clenching into fists.

She then added insult to injury by complaining that since I didn't have a pen of my own she'd make the supreme sacrifice and allow me to use one of hers. The smile that completely FAILED to "grace" her features sent my guts into a spasm of anger.

Clutching the pen in my furious hand, I signed the new registration nearly hard enough to send the pen right through the paper.

She then smiled once more and said, "That will be $195.75."

I paid.

I stalked out of the hall, stamping my feet as hard as I could, pretending that I was stamping my boot heels on the faces of public servants everywhere.

When I got outside, I got into my car. That was when I noticed the little yellow slip of paper on my windshield... It was a ticket.

Apparently, I had been in the way of the plow, so the Smallborotonville police gave me a 5 dollar ticket for being in the parking lot for over 20 minutes.

I got back in my car, started the engine, pulled to the road, stopped the engine, put the car in park and proceeded to scream and slam my head against the steering wheel until I felt better.

Happy fricken' birthmonth to me.

The Pirate Queen Gets an Ultimatum

When I woke up I was on the floor of Room 117 aka Headquarters, hog tied and blinded by the lights. The pounding in my head was so loud that I was sure it must be audible to everyone else in the room. The Superheroes weren't there but there were several ninjas, including Shiruken and quite a few Guild members. The guy in the blue uniform was still there and he was staring down at me and smirking. If I hadn't been gagged I would have let loose with a string of Pirate profanity. As soon as this thought crossed my mind I felt a searing pain in my head followed by a voice in my brain that surely must have belonged to BlueUniform saying, "Now, now "my Queen…" Be a nice girl and don't use such foul language in the presence of a gentleman." This was followed by laughter from everyone in the room. Apparently this jerk-off was broadcasting our mind-to-mind conversation to everyone in the room.

At this point Shiruken seemed to lose patience. He stepped over to me, looked down and said, "You didn't really believe what Andreas said in that note, did you? Seriously, I think you may have begun to fall for your own hype… Tell me Queenie, do you plan to "blog" this?"

I could feel my face turning purple as I held my breath and struggled uselessly against my bonds.

I knew it was futile, but I couldn't help it… My Superheroes were Carlos-knows-where and I was stuck here taking verbal jabs from a short guy in a fake uniform and the absolute worst ninja leader who ever wielded a blade. I could actually taste the fury in my mouth…It reminded me of cough medicine…

Anyway, though I continued to struggle, it was still to no avail.

Finally, after watching me for a few moments Shiruken gave some sort of signal and once again the voice of BlueUniform was in my head. He said, "Queenie dear, you have three days to turn over the Kraken's eyes, or the loss of your friends will be the least of your worries... You know, there are lots of things we could do to them that would make the dismemberment of your buddy Shaggy's wings seem but a fond memory... Three days..."

Once again, I was thumped on the head rather hard and for a while I was lost in darkness. All I remember of the dreams that followed was wandering in a dark place, calling out to the Superheroes...

When I woke, I had a plan. And yet another major headache.

Someone pass the ibuprofin please.

A Superhero Tragedy...This Could Be the End...

After a brief snack, some minor first aid and a lengthy clean-up of my yard and the surrounding environs, we boarded the Siren and headed back to the Saltmine...

We couldn't possibly have made a worse decision.

I'm afraid that the end is near.

It all started out well enough. We landed in the back lot of the Saltmine and I used my special key to get us into the building (which is closed all the coming week). We were talking amongst ourselves and laughing as we sauntered down to 117.

We suspected nothing.

Why would we? As far as we knew, our inner sanctum was secure.

How foolish we were.

The Aviator, walking with his usual speed, was the first to reach the door of our basecamp and thus the first to take a hit. As he reached the double doors, there was the sound like air being forced out of a paper bag with a bang and a hole appeared in the middle of the window, cracks spiderwebbing out from it seemingly in slow motion. I think maybe I shouted something but everything that happened is a little hazy with the execption of snapshots of the carnage. This is what followed...

...The Aviator tumbled over sideways, a dart sticking out of his neck just above his right collar bone. His eyes were rolled back into his head and he dropped to the floor like a bag of rocks I was on the floor next to him in seconds, though it felt like I was running to him through cold, deep water...

...The Chameleon, Boe and Lizzard rushed the door; she was already shimmering into a change when a second dart hit her in the chest, she too went down, tumbling forward and sliding a few feet down the hallway...

Boe was already shouting but for some reason I couldn't seem to hear anything except the blood pounding in my veins, perhaps my own screams drownd out even his... Even as his scream blew out the windows of 117 he was going down himself, a dart sticking out of his right cheek causing a trickle of blood to run down his face like a tear. He fell back onto the Chameleon who stutter-stepped, trying to keep our comrade from slamming violently to the floor. As Chameleon toppled over under Boe's weight he also took a dart, this one to the leg. Instantly they were both motionless on the floor in a heap.

Shaggy, Seymour and Fuzzy-B, who had been bringing up the rear, froze momentarily, staring at the madness before them in shock. As they did, three men emerged from our Headquarters weilding dart guns. Seymour attempted to summon a psychic shield to protect us from harm but he was too late. Before he could react there was a painful scream that seemed to come from everywhere around us, freezing us all. The scream reminded me of Seymour's but it didn't come from him...Instead another man emerged from 117, he was short and dark-haired, wearing a blue uniform with the Guild (GWAD) insignia on it...

He was smiling as he screamed in our heads.

Looking back at Shaggy, Fuzzy and Seymour, I saw that all three looked to be in as much agony as I. In fact, Fuzzy had collapsed to the floor and was twitching in a horrific parody of Break Dancing. Seymour was screaming himself, his hands covering his ears and his eyes closed in pain but there was no way I could hear him over the sound of the sream already filling my head... Again, there was that exploding paper bag sound and darts appeared in both Seymour and Fuzzy. Seymour went over backwards and lay still, his hands falling away from his head.

And then something even more terrible happened. Something I can't even bear to remember, though it is branded on my brain like a tattoo...

Shaggy, the only one of us who seemed even slightly immune to the pain in his head (another aspect of his new-found strength) shook his head, crouched forward and made a flying leap at the uniformed man. The fury in his eyes seemed to have laser capability...Just as he had almost reached the screamer (who never lost his evil smirk) yet another man emerged from 117. He was wearing a black mask and was unsurprisingly familiar... Shiruken.

That evil bastard.

He had a katana in each hand and just as Shaggy made contact with the screamer Shiruken rushed in from behind. I rose shakily from the floor, screaming myself for real this time and launched myself at his knees. I succeeded in taking him out but even though my tackle had been a success, I was far too late...

When I looked up from my position on the floor next to the ninja leader, what I saw filled me with such horror that I cannot possibly relate it to anyone with efficacy...

On the floor just a few feet away, lying at the feet of the blue uniformed screamer, was Shaggy, blood spurting from his back and a low moan emerging from him...

His wings lay in a tangle of feathers on the floor beside him, both had been completely severed from his back as cleanly as if they had never been there to begin with...

I suddenly realized that for the first time since the battle had begun, I could hear again. In fact, the last thing I heard before I was clubbed on the head with something hard was the sound of my own screams in the echoing corridor...

I'm Off to the Dreaded EVENT

Well...

I'm primped, I'm ready, and I'm cold as hell in my little black velvet dress.

Yes, it's time to leave for the Formal Event.

*sigh*

I talked to a trusted Saltmine Ally, and she measured me and said that I was within the rules of shortness for my dress (3" above the knee) so take THAT.

Yeah. As Jessica Rabbit once so eloquently stated, "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way."

Who knows...if I'm wrong about the length perhaps someone will take a picture that will live on to embarrass me... Only the gods know.

Now the only question that remains is, spikey black pirate boots or shiny black spiky patent leather shoes...

Ahh...decisions, decisions.

I hate Formal Events...

Seige of the Batcave

It was my lowest point ever...

And then the shooting began.

There was the sound of a monsterous explosion outside and the peachtree in the side yard which had been present only moments before was gone in an explosion of ice, bark and wood chips.

I remained frozen in the big red chair while the Superheroes rushed to the windows to look for our attackers...

As the firing commenced on the Batcave itself, Seymour threw up a shield around the perimeter of the house. Shaggy wrestled the window open and began shooting at anything that moved, bone splinters taking out first one, then two, then five of the invading Guildmembers...

Boe took off out the sliders and stood on the porch; he shouted a curse at the vehicle charging through the woods to the south and it exploded into a ball of fire and flew twenty feet into the air. His laughter sent bits of burning debris flying through the yard, impaling more of our would-be attackers.

Pulling me out of the chair and on to my feet, the Chameleon said, "Looks like we better get those Eyes into your safe spot...It's now or never."

I shook my head to clear it and then raced for the basement door, with Lizzard and Fuzzy-B following behind. Fuzzy told us he would stand before the door, just in case anyone got past Boe. Lizz shimmered and reappeared in dragon form and I took off down the basement stairs, using the secret code when I reached the bottom to open the hidden room... Once inside I gently placed the Kraken's Eyes into a lock-box. Leaving the secret room, I slammed the door behind me and it disappeared into nothingness...The relics were now as safe as I could make them...

Now I had to assist the heroes.

Lizzard was already on it, flying back up the stairs and through the door, nearly taking out Fuzzy-B with her whipping tail. She soared out the sliders and into the back yard, shooting green flame at any moving target she could sight... The Guildmembers had been decimated by Boe and Shaggy already and there wasn't much left... The Aviator and Chameleon had protected The Siren from any flying bodies or debris with a shield of ice and metal parts from destroyed vehicles, so our transport was still in top form and none the worse for the battle which had so briefly raged around her...

And then we found him...

Lying under a pine tree in the north facing entrance to my lair, blood spilling from a wound in his side, was Jay.

I was both stunned and furious. After taking the trouble to warn me, I couldn't believe that he had willingly participated on an assault on my secret abode... I approached cautiously, against the advice of my companions, who were fully prepared to end things if he attempted any treachery.

They needn't have worried, Jay was on the way out...

Once again, the words he uttered changed everything.

As he lay, gasping for breath with blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, he struggled to sit up. Finally he managed to ask me, "Are they safe?" I nodded. Then he added, "Don't be fooled Aikens, this was only a prelude, take care of your friends, they are in great danger... Andreas has a new ally, a ninja of great renown, even now the two of them are plotting together to destroy your fellowship and convert you to their side. They desire the Kraken's Eyes and will use them for great evil...I'm sorry I couldn't help more...Forgiv---"

And he was gone.

I stood, took a deep breath, and brushed myself off. Turning to the Superheroes I finally broached the subject of the note on the porch. I explained that I would understand if they all wanted to return home and protect their families...I would do my best to keep my distance so that they would be in no further danger.

The looks of shock and fury on each of their faces contained more synonyms for disbelief than any two thesaurai...

At first no one said anything... and then, a mischevious look creeping across his face, Shaggy yelled, "Group HUG Aikens!!"

A few moments later I was on my back in the snow under a pile of Superheroes.

They never take anything seriously...

Thank the gods.

Our next move would be to return to the Saltmine, find that bastard Shuriken and the rest of the Guildmembers, and put them in their places once and for all...

Wish us continued success...

PIssed Off and I Don't Care Who Knows It (A Rant)

Yeah. I said it.

I am pissed off.

Why?

Well, there are a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I'm annoyed about the fact that I feel guilty for admitting that I'm pissed off.

I am fully aware that I usually don't talk like this.

That should be an indication to you, dear reader, that I am not in a good frame of mind.

This has been a long week and I am sick of all the following:

a) being a complete and total TOOL
b) being taken for granted
and most of all...

c) FORMAL EVENTS

Yeah, that's right boys and girls. Tomorrow is the Formal Event I've been dreading for weeks.

I was unable to find a suitable dress. I tried on several. Each was worse than the last.

I found one I loved but I couldn't in good conscience buy it.

Why?

Too expensive? NO.

Too ugly? NO.

Too sexy? YES.

Ironic, no? YES.

Anyway, this has been the week that would not die. The Saltmine has been hot, dank (and not in a good way) and bereft of Heroes in large part.

Plus, to top it all off, I got to the Saltmine this morning and was forced to run IN THE HALLS because the PhishMan and his ilk had absconded with my beloved gymnasium...Turning it into something out of a Disney flick with delusions of immediacy.

So yeah, I'm pissed off.

I'm tired.

And yet again, I'm broke.

Broke and broken.

Used up.

Sorry for the rant. I'm done now and hopefully tomorrow will not suck.

Here's hopin'.

A Superhero Dilemma

After reading the note impaled on my deck, I felt about two inches tall.

Silently I passed the note to the Chameleon who read it aloud for the rest of the Heroes. While he did this I opened the slider and trudged into my lair. Dropping into the big red chair I put my head down almost to my knees and tried to catch my breath. The messenger bag containing the Kraken's Eyes slipped to the floor, forgotten.

I realized that I was right. I never should have involved my team mates in this quest.

I can't remember ever feeling so low, lost and alone.

Probably only a few moments passed but it felt like an eternity had elapsed when I finally looked up. The Heroes stood in my living room silently, looking either at me or each other. Seymour in particular looked at me, worry in every line of his face.

No one spoke.

What would we do?

It wouldn't be long before we would find out... Not five minutes later the first shot was fired...

Moral Compass Bitch-fest

It appears that not only am I a pathological liar, I am also an immoral bitch.

At least, it appears that the Saltmine I work for is afraid I might be...

And can I just say... I'm tired.

You see, where I work there are concerns about employees blogging and/or having their own websites. Although one of our company initiatives requires that employees utilize technology, the good folks who run things are also concerned about employees revealing specialized company info and/or setting a poor example for the inmates of our charming institution.

I would just like to know when I became personally responsible for the moral character development of the people I work with. You see, I was under the mistaken impression that the 50 minutes a day I spend with someone was far less important than the YEARS that a family spends molding that same character development.

However, since I was wrong about that I suppose I'll just have to refrain from all "immoral" conduct (whatever that means). As a result I vow to no longer do any of the following:

a) kick puppies
b) kill hitchhikers
c) smoke crack under bridges
d) get arrested for public drinking

As far as anything else goes, I guess I'll just play it by ear...

I'm just sayin'.

Superheroes Rush to Defend the Batcave and Yet Another Power Surfaces

When last I wrote we were headed for the shop and the Aviator's flying toy, which he has since named the Siren… (Dude, what were you thinking? A name like that just begs for trouble…)

When we reached it I saw that our metal controlling friend had most definitely been hard at work, the body of the machine was smooth, shiny, painted black and buffed to an incredibly high gloss. Although the Aviator looked down and shuffled his feet a little, it was clear to me that he was exceedingly proud of his work, and he was deserving of praise. I gave him a huge hug and told him that the Siren was the most beautiful flying machine I'd ever seen and I meant it absolutely…Though the machine part of the equation was a little off…technically the Siren was built for gliding, since the Aviator has no need of engine, fuel or a propulsion system of any kind.

The eerie silence of our lift-off was breath-taking in and of itself. Unlike a plane there was no deafening sound of engines blaring or screaming wind, the Siren cut through the air with the Aviator in the cockpit like a beautiful and deadly bird. Riding in her was absolutely exhilarating.

Soon enough, we reached a cruising altitude and began to lay our plans. Before leaving room 106 I had opened the secret panel in the bottom of one of my bookshelves and removed the sacred items in the hidden space. The bold colors of the Kraken's Eyes screamed out at all of us, and the Superheroes stared in wonder. Even Seymour was struck speechless… Though, having seen into my mind on more than one occasion, he better than the others knew what the Eyes were, how they could be used for both good and evil, and even where they had been hidden.

Wordlessly I placed the relics into my non-descript messenger bag and we filed out of the room. At this point we all began to revert to usual form, Seymour and the Aviator trying to out-do each other in creepiness, Shaggy making a running leap and Matrix-ing his way over the ramp railing, Boe sauntering like an Abercrombie model headed to a photoshoot and Lizzard silently walking ahead of us… In fact, I noticed that she was even quieter than usual, and it worried me…

Of course, in typical Pirate Queen fasion, my A.D.D. kicked in and when I saw the Siren I momentarily forgot my concern for my blonde dragon-form friend for a few minutes and it wasn't until we were up in the air that I returned to myself and asked her, "What's wrong Lizzard? You seem…perturbed."

She looked at me for a moment, then wrinkled her nose and shut her eyes momentarily. She then glanced covertly from side to side, checking to see if any of our male team-mates were watching… Naturally, Seymour and Shaggy had resumed their perpetual argument about "Hop" vs. "Hub" (don't ask, it's a private game between the two of them…), the Aviator was concentrating on his flying, Boe was lost in music with his iPod plugged directly into his cerebellum, and Fuzzy-B was taking the opportunity to catch a nap… Only myself and the Chameleon were listening to what she had to reveal…

It was a doozy.

It seems that a few days prior, after leaving Period One for the pain and suffering of a physical education course, she had run into ProfessorEmoBoy in the hall along with PhishMan. Naturally, she put her head down and attempted to avoid them but to no avail. The two cornered her before she could get to locker room and tried to talk to her. Using the time-honored Superhero tradition of putting her fingers in her ears and shouting, "LA-LA-LA-LA-LA!!" at the top of her lungs, she avoided any conversation…

She did not however manage to avoid the syringe that PhishMan had cleverly disguised with some flannel camouflage. After she felt the prick of the needle's point she freaked out and pushed past them, tearing full-speed into the locker room and falling to her knees in a stall where she first threw up the Cheerios she'd consumed for breakfast and then promptly passed out on the floor…

When she awoke she felt no different.

The next day was when the change began…It seems that she had developed an interesting new addition to her power. She found that if she concentrated hard enough she could now change not just into dragon form but also into inanimate objects and even into plants. The only undesirable side effect of this new power was that she was also changing color with regularity… Most often she found that she was taking on a slight teal tinge…Luckily, being a blue-eyed blonde, the color seems to suit her…

By the time she had finished her story we were nearly at the Batcave. Fuzzy-B had woken up, the Aviator was looking for a good place to touch down (he settled on my side yard near the peach tree), Boe had unplugged and Shaggy and Seymour had begun to play a rousing game of "I'm not touching you."

I couldn't help letting out a loud snort of laughter. (Who wouldn't love those two)?

All was well until we trooped through the snow and up into my house through the sliders on the porch.

There we found a note stuck to the side of my house with a pirate dagger. I immediately recognized the seal on the side as being one of my former Guild's…

The note read as follows:

_______________________________________________

To the Traitor Aikens,

For far too long you've laughed at us and our trusting nature; the time has come for you to pay. We have been watching and will arrive soon. If you refuse to return the Kraken's Eyes to us we will make you pay most dearly. We have seen how deeply you care for your pathetic "Superhero" friends…We won't lift a finger against them, however, their families are fair game.

By the time we are finished, every Superhero in your little band will curse you and the day they crossed your path of destruction… Believe that we can and will do this.

You will be forever ALONE Pirate Queen. The battle is joined. Do not cross us.

Sincerely,

Kenneth Andreas GWAD Guildmaster Elite
___________________________________________________

My heart sank and for the first time in my life I felt my eyes well with unshed tears.

The loss of the Kraken's Eyes would be horrific, but bearable…Loss of my Heroes?

Not bearable at all.

The true battle was about to begin.

The Pirate Queen Goes MIA... Superheroes Unite?

I am aware that I have been MIA for a bit.

Here's what happened...

You know how I said that I had to protect the Kraken's Eyes and I didn't want to drag the Superheroes of 117 into it?

Well, I tried.

They wouldn't let me.

When I arrived at the Saltmine to gather supplies for the epic battle I knew was coming, Shaggy, Seymour and the rest were already in my room. I opened the door, turned on the lights and gasped.

They were all sitting in the dark, waiting for me.

I stopped short, staring at them. While I made an attempt to catch my breath Seymour said, "Damn it Aikens... what are you thinking? You NEED us."

For the first time in a long time I was totally speechless.

Apparently, Seymour's powers have increased to such an extent that he had sensed my distress even though I hadn't actually sent him a call for help. Boe shook his head and Lizzard said, "I can't believe you were going to try to defeat the Guild and protect the Kraken's Eyes all by yourself... You could have been killed!"

Shaggy cracked his knuckles and said, "No kidding Aikens... What did you think we would do? Just stand by while you went off on your own? I mean really... You didn't actually plan to drive to Smallborotonville by yourself did you? I've seen your driving... Stay off the sidewalks kids..."

I briefly contemplated hitting him, then realized that, well... He was probably right.

The Chameleon took a step toward me and said, "We already know some of your plan, why don't you tell us the rest? What's this Guild that's out to get you? Why are they trying to kill you?"

Finally, I caught my breath, took a seat at a desk and told them the tragic tale...

Naturally, the Superheroes already knew that I had been raised in the Guild. It was basically a cult that controlled every move its members made. I'd had absolutely no freedom until I left when I was 18 and went off to "college" to escape their clutches.

Wanting nothing more than to hurt them, I'd taken the Kraken's Eyes with me. Originally all I'd wanted was to hurt the Guild but once I realized the potential power for good emanating from the Eyes, I'd summoned my courage and studied to be a Saltminer. I had hoped that after years of lying dormant, the Eyes would help me make the world a better place for Superheroes and Normals alike...

I'd been right. The presence and careful use of the Eyes had ultimately led me to my destiny as a Saltminer and judicious application of the power contained within them had, for the past 7 years, helped me to convert many from the sway of ignorance to the joy of knowledge...

But they were no longer safe.

The Eyes would have to be moved from their current place in 106 to a new home where no Guilds, no ninjas and no evil Saltminers would ever be able to touch and perhaps corrupt them...

The only secure location I could think of was the Batcave... In the bottom of my secret lair is a small, locked room where they might be safe...

No one knows about this room except me.

And now you...Oh, and of course the Superheroes.

Have I mentioned that it can be a real pain having a psychic for a Superhero friend? Sometimes I worry that Seymour knows too much... Can't be good for his innocence...

Anyway, the Aviator suggested that we take flight immediately, before anyone discovered my plans.

I was still a bit hesitant, not wanting the Superheroes in danger. I've begun to feel like they are all basically family, in fact, closer than family since I got to choose them and not just have them thrust upon me whether I like it or not but they were insistant. (Shaggy threatened to tie me to a desk and then have Seymour levitate me down the hallway if I argued...) Laughing, I finally gave in.

I did warn them however, that my bringing them to the Batcave was probably in direct violation of some administrative Saltmine edict about Miner/Inmate interaction outside of the boundaries of the work day... The Superheroes did not appear to be concerned, though Boe did ask, "Why is that a problem? Have we ever let rules stop us from doing anything before?"

At this point there was a long pause where a look passed from one to the other of us... We all burst out laughing at almost the same moment and then headed down the hallway to our waiting conveyance...

I think it was Shaggy who pointed out that since I'd already corrupted them by bringing them coffee, which had resulted in their superpowers in the first place, there wasn't a whole lot more I could do to them... "What're you gonna do Aikens? Kill us and use our bodies for Saltmine experiments? Since when do you teach Biology?"

I pointed out to him that no one likes a smartass.

He gave me a noogie and decimated my carefully coiffed hair.

Damnit.

Don't stay away too long... I haven't even gotten to the good part of the story yet.

Oh Look! I Think It's 1984...

Before I say anything else, I would like to point out that I absolutely love my Saltmine. Even when it is demanding. Even when no one around me seems to appreciate the work I do. I do it because I consider it to be noble, and I give it my all sometimes in the face of great odds.

I dream of a day when people will respect both Miners and Inmates. However, regardless of what other people may say and think I will continue to strive to be better and better. I make an effort to do what is right and be a real person at the same time, without the cookie-cutter cliches. I also treat people with dignity and respect; I may be a spaz but only in fun. My goal is to make the world better in as many ways as I can, even if it's only by making people laugh with my silly and inane stories of ninjas, superheroes and unbelievable adventures.

I do this for the sheer joy of it.

I hope you know that.

But I'm a little stressed right now and I'll share why.

I have a quick question for ya' all...

What does Freedom of Speech mean to you?

Because when I woke up this morning I was unaware that apparently I had gone back in time and it was no longer 2008, instead apparently it's 1984.

Do you know what the supreme court ruled in the Tinker vs. Des Moines Independent Community School District case?

I do.

You see, some of the students of the Des Moines School district decided to wear armbands in protest of the Vietnam War. The students in question were suspended for this behavior. Ultimately the supreme court upheld the student's rights to free speech.

Do you know what the supreme court said?

Perhaps you don't but I do. In case you're interested, here's what the court ruled:

Held:

1. In wearing armbands, the petitioners were quiet and passive. They were not disruptive, and did not impinge upon the rights of others. In these circumstances, their conduct was within the protection of the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment and the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth. P P. 505-506.

2. First Amendment rights are available to teachers and students, subject to application in light of the special characteristics of the school environment. P P. 506-507.

3. A prohibition against expression of opinion, without any evidence that the rule is necessary to avoid substantial interference with school discipline or the rights of others, is not permissible under the First and Fourteenth Amendments. P P. 507-514.

'Cause I'm all about Freedom.

An Early Morning Visitor Disturbs the Pirate Queen's Safe Little World...

An Early Morning Visitor Corners the Pirate Queen, Bringing Back Long Ago Memories
Current mood: scared

After a full day of being watched by a Saltmine Guard, slaying dragons, battling ninjas, and surviving the PepperAlly...

I was completely spent.

Yesterday was two days long. I swear it.

After the day was over, I went and hung out with DopeHat07, MrBigTall and The Bearded One at a local Pirate Dive. I laughed far too loudly and often. I think my laugh may have distracted some of the other patrons from their dining...

When I arrived back at the Batcave I was completely fried. It was before 7pm and I dropped into sleep like a stone into a puddle. My mind and body were completely exhausted and I felt like I'd been dipped in cement and tossed into a lake.

About 20 minutes ago I freed myself from sleep and emerged back into the world... Slowly, ever so slowly I rose to the surface of consciousness and broke free into wakefulness...

Then I smelled the coffee.

Thank Carlos for Brody. Or so I thought...

When I got downstairs I glanced around before turning on the light and saw a dark form sitting in my big red chair. I didn't think much of it, since I assumed that it was Brody, waiting for me.

I should have been more careful. It was not Brody... You guessed it. I had company... A face from the past.

Far too trustingly, I crossed the living room, flicked on the light and was about to turn around and say, "Hi Brody."

It was then that I felt it, something cold, hard and very sharp sticking into my neck.

I turned, slowly, to see who was threatening me.

I'd seen the face before.

My blood turned to cold maple syrup and refused to circulate through my veins in the normal fashion. My legs suddenly felt way too weak to hold up the rest of my body and I could feel my desire to run build, while my ability to do so took off like a dress on prom night.

Although a scream wanted to exit my throat, what came out was a weaker version of my unmistakeable and, or so I'm told, obnoxious, laugh.

I pushed the cutlass away and paused before saying, "Hi Jay."

Instead of a punch in the gut, I got a hug.

It wasn't much different emotionally.

Okay, here's a little backstory for you...

When I was young, before the swashbuckling, before the long road to the Saltmine really began, I had one really close friend. Oddly enough, at the time I never really appreciated how close the friendship was until it was gone. Funny how that happens. What you have to understand is that Jay was never my "boyfriend" in the classic sense... He wanted to be, but even then I knew it was a terrible idea. On some self-protective instinctual level I was aware that he made a great friend but anything more was trouble.

So I enjoyed his friendship and made sure to always keep a knife in my boot, so when the expected happened it would be relatively easy to "curse his sudden, but inevitable betrayal" with protection close at hand. For once, I was smart.

I was sure that chapter was over. The end. Finis.

Clearly, I was wrong.

Jay had a warning for me. It went something like this...

The guild that I was raised in was coming for me. I'd been found. The Kraken's Eyes had drawn the attention of the Guild and the relics were no longer safe.

Jay had located the Batcave and come to warn me. Of course, no one could ever know that he'd helped me or he'd be signing his own death warrant...

He's gone now and I'm still in shock. A part of me wants to wake the Superheroes and ask for their help. Another, better, part of me knows that I have to face this danger alone instead of risking all their lives...

But it's hard to be alone.

I know.

I've been alone a long time now.

Only I know where the relics are kept. I refuse to bring Shaggy, Seymour, Boe and the others into a mission this dangerous...

But if something happens to me, I hope they'll go on fighting.

I hope they'll remember me.

If I survive this one, I'll tell you the story as soon as I can.

If I don't...

Please remember...

You're my favorite.

The Superheroes Kick Ninja and Take Names

...Just after Boe climbed into the window is when it happened...

Seymour groaned and rolled over. Shaggy and Lizzard hadn't been kidding, he was most definitely glowing...red. He was becoming brighter every moment, in fact, it actually hurt to look at him. When he opened his eyes, his irises were gone and in there place were two burning holes where they used to be...

Suddenly his voice was everywhere, seeming to come at us from the walls, the ceiling, the very air where we stood... What he said was a bit terrifying...

"Shuriken, I know you're there and I know you're the one who did this to me! I can here you and there is no way you can escape! We are coming for you and your underlings--NOW!"

As the words came rushing around and through us, everything in the room began flying around, somehow managing not to hit Boe or I. Seymour stood up and began to float out the now missing window and into the dreary day beyond.

At the same time we heard shouts from outside and turned to look--Boe raced past me and down the stairs, ninja appeared to be coming from every direction imaginable, surrounding the house.

From the window, this is what I saw...

Seymour, using the power of his mind to lift his car and drop it on several ninja before they could do so much as scream...

Boe, turning the power of his voice on the car, causing it to burst into a ball of flame, sending several other ninjas flying through the air, where they were toasted to a crispy blackness by Lizzard...

The Chameleon, sealing several other attackers in a makeshift wall of ice...

Shaggy, dive-bombing Shruriken himself, shooting...something... from his hands...

The Aviator, sending pieces of still flaming car flying through the air...as the pieces landed Boe would make them explode and send shards of shrapnel into more attackers...

In less than 5 minutes most of the ninjas had either run away from the fight, were trapped, or severely wounded...The only one left standing was Shuriken, who was still trying to fight off Shaggy. He had one gloved hand out and had grabbed Shaggy by one wing, he looked like he was attempting to rip out feathers by the handful and not having much luck... Just when it looked like he was about to succeed in his endeavor, Shaggy's right hand seemed to cease being a hand at all, becoming instead a mass of bony spikes and he back-handed the ninja overlord into a pile of ice and snow...

He should have been unconscious after that...or possibly even dead...

But somehow he was not.

He lay motionless and his eyes took in every one of the still amped superheroes...

Quietly, but in a voice that somehow still managed to carry to every one of us, he calmly said, "You may think you have defeated me, but the truth is you all owe me your very LIVES... Do you think it was mere coincidence that brought you together? Random chance that bonded you as a "team?" Just a whim of fate that your powers have been growing and changing ever since?

FOOLS! You have been my toys all along! I would sacrifice EVERY ONE of my underlings if it would make you stronger, better, faster, and more loyal to one another... There is great work ahead of you AS MY SERVANTS! Together we will conquer the WHOLE WORLD!!!"

At this, there was a loud bang and a puff of rancid air and the ninja leader was gone, leaving us to stare at the remains of Seymour's car and house... and each other.

We were somber as we made repairs, cleaned up as best we could and the Aviator took care of what remained of the car... No one seemed to know what to say...

After about an hour Seymour invited us in for coffee and as we sat around his kitchen table we talked in low voices about what had happened. The only conclusion we came to was that we would have to be careful in the future that any action we took as a team would be for the betterment of the world and on the side of right...

Seymour was no longer glowing and he explained to us that apparently last night he'd been shot with some sort of dart gun...He'd thought the gun was a tranquilizer, but it appears that he also was infected by the same serum that gave Shaggy and Chameleon their new powers... He found that he was becoming more and more powerful (tossing the car with his mind was the least of what he was now capable of) and it was clear that this knowledge frightened him more than a little...

The Chameleon revealed that he had learned about his new skill innocently enough when he got really angry at his snow blower during a storm last week... He'd been more than a little scared by his new skill as well, but has been learning to control it.

Shaggy showed all of us the new power that he's been also somewhat intimidated by (though, it's Shaggy we're talking about here...so he was pretty blase about the whole thing, it's his style)... He could now use his hands like weapons, coating them in bone and giving himself claws or spikes...When he did this his hands seemed to be virtually invulnerable, and he could even shoot bits of this bone with impressive accuracy...

I think Boe said it best when he simply sat back in his chair, took a sip of coffee, stared off into the middle distance and said,

"Huh. That's what she said..."

Seymour Goes Thermoneuclear, or New Powers and A Snow Day

When I got the cry for help from Seymour this morning it was abundantly clear that there was no time to waste.

As stated in my previous missive, I leaped to his aide, using the phone tree to reach all of the other team members... Currently Fuzzy-B is unavailable... Something to do with his most recent Saltmine evaluation but everyone else was raring to go. Well, almost... The Chameleon is still a little off his game (we would soon discover why) and Shaggy is still a bit miffed at our empathic friend but even still they agreed to meet at Headquarters...

It took me two and a half hours to slog through the snow, ice and rain to reach the Saltmine but when I did all of the other heroes were already there with coffee and donuts. I brought the in-depth explanation and a plan.

You see, when Seymour called out to me he was desperate. I could hear it in his voice which quaked unnaturally. He complained of head pain like he has never known before and said he absolutely could not bear to be around anyone... He was terrified he might be losing his mind. Before he could give me a further explanation he was cut off by something. A few moments later, as I tried to reach him I heard the sound of a painful scream and for a brief moment saw nothing but darkness... The psychic equivalent of a "dropped call."

Worried doesn't cover the way I felt as I related this info to the other Heroes.

My first suggestion was that we go directly to Seymour's home and find him, perhaps taking him to a doctor... Though I was a bit unclear about what exactly the "wonders" of 21st century medicine could do for a superhero in need of a headache cure... In fact the only cure I thought might work was if Seymour was suddenly stripped of his powers... A dreadful thought in and of itself.

Anyway, we crossed from Headquarters to the Shop, where the Aviator has been working on a transport for all of us of his own devising. It was a thing of great beauty, though obviously not quite finished yet. After informing us all that we were about to take it out on its first ever test run, he continued, "I'm trying to make it air-tight, but I'm not sure if the seal will hold...hope every one is prepared to get a little wet..."

Shaggy in particular groaned at this little bit of info and said, "Damn it Aviator, you know I hate it when my wings get wet!"

Boe mumbled, "The rest of us don't like it much either dufus, the smell is like wet dog with a hint of chicken thrown in..."

Shaggy growled and aimed a punch at Boe which he deflected with a laugh and Lizzard changed form and flapped between them, coughing a short burst of laughter of her own...along with a bit of flame for good measure.

"Hey! Watch it!" Yelled the Aviator, "Some of this thing is made of wood you know! Dang!"

The Chameleon shook his head, fearing that these scuffles did not bode well for our rescue attempt. I wasn't worried, or hadn't been until I saw the slight blue pallor coloring his face. This look of beaten-down hopelessness was not typical for the Chameleon. I patted him on the arm and was surprised to find that he seemed to be radiating coldness from his entire form... Before I could ask the question that immediately popped into my head, Shaggy yelled, "Are we going or not? Cm'on, ya poons!"

Since as you well know, I am something of a cat (my A.D.D. makes me susceptible to quick changes and short-term forgetfulness) I completely forgot the question I was about to ask and followed Boe, Lizzard and the Chameleon into our new team conveyance.

One last thing... I believe I've mentioned that Shaggy hasn't been himself lately. At first I thought it was just stress over Saltmine stuff, but as of this morning I officially realized that it was something more than that... Upon taking off his coat in Headquarters, I noticed that there seemed to be something else unusual about him (yes, even more unusual than the large wings sprouting from his back, we've all grown used to the sight of them)... There was something weird about his knuckles... They seemed to be bigger somehow...

Of course, as you can imagine, before I could question him, A.D.D. struck again and I was distracted by something shiny and I forgot.

On the way to Seymour's I did remember to ask him and he gave me a stony look from under his hair and mumbled something. When I asked him to repeat it he shook his head and said something that sounded like, "Later Aikens."

My astuteness of course, knows no bounds and even I could take from this that he didn't want to discuss whatever it was under the present circumstances, so I let it go, instead sending my mind out to try to reach Seymour. There was nothing but a quiet hum and a brief flash of red...

By this time we had reached the home of our psychic friend. At first we failed to notice anything unusual. Boe was the first to realize that something was wrong, in touch with vibration as he is, he recognized the sonic frequency emanating from Seymour's house and turned a bit green for a moment. He turned to the Chameleon and said, "It's a bad idea to go in there."

But it was too late. the Aviator had landed our craft and Lizzard and I were the first ones out. Using some sort of homing device that has been developing between our team members unobtrusively over the last few months, we knew immediately which window looked in on Seymour's room. Shaggy and Lizzard both flew up to the window and looked in briefly before swooping down to fill the rest of us in on the situation... Seymour was lying on his side on the floor beside his bed...and he was..."glowing."

I looked at the Chameleon who hadn't spoken since before leaving the Saltmine. His face was creased in concentration. Just as I was about to ask Boe to use his powers to break down the door so we could rush in and help Seymour, Chameleon said, "Wait, I think I can do something about this..." He then proceeded to turn invisible... Just after this, I felt a wave of power that nearly knocked me over and suddenly before us, something began forming right out of the air... Where before there had been merely sleet and rain, there was now an enormous staircase leading up the side of the house... made entirely of ice. While not particularly elaborate, it was impressive.

"Dude..." muttered Boe as the rest of us looked at the re-appearing Chameleon, "What the--"

Chameleon shook his head and said, "Let's talk about it later, we've got stuff to do now don't we?"

Barely had the words left his mouth before I took off up the stairs to stand outside Seymour's window. Boe was right next to me and when we reached our makeshift "entry" he imploded the the window, frame and all with one short burst of sound from his lungs, "Dude, could you warn me next time?" I whined as he laughed and stepped through the new opening in the side of the house.

At this point...I have to stop. I haven't eaten anything since those donuts this morning and I need a break. I'm still so blown away by The Chameleon, Seymour, and Shaggy and their new powers that I need a little bit longer to calm my nerves... And perhaps a Red Bull... Or two...

No Matter the Weather, Superheroes Never Close

Well, thanks to the will of the gods, the Saltmine is closed... However, when trouble comes it doesn't matter if the Mines are shutdown, when the heroes are needed... They do their duty.

I got a call just a few moments ago from Seymour... (a psychic call of course) for once he was asking me for help and not the other way around. I have just finished making calls to the rest of the team and soon we will be on our way...

There is a bit of startling news however... Remember when Shaggy and the Chameleon were kidnapped and held for ransom? Apparently while they were out of it those darned ninjas experimented on them, giving them some sort of suspicious serum... They have both developed some new powers... Cool, but a bit disturbing as well, it seems that this is what has been freaking Shaggy out and is also partially responsible for the Chameleon's extended absence from the Mine...

And they're not the only ones going through changes... Seymour too has been having some difficulty controlling his power (as I mentioned a few days back)...

This rescue is going to be interesting to say the least... But don't worry, while this particular missive will end on a cliffhanger, I promise I will return ASAP and give you "the rest of the story."

No lines. No waiting.

Pirates Don't Cry

I was in a foul temper when I exited the store.

Again, it's only a Tuesday and it's already been a long-ass week. Though I've still managed to be pretty chirpy at the Saltmine, if it weren't for the kindness of inmates, I'd likely be in a home. So let's just say, I was in no mood to be trifled with.

NO MOOD.

The honest truth is, I have never been good at maintaining a poker face. Apparently I wear my emotions like a neon sign, unless I'm really working to appear happy (hence the CHIRPY- Saltmine face). So I always assume that people will know, when the Pirate Queen is PO'ed, DON'T MESS WITH HER.

I guess that's why I was so shocked when the guy with the shaved head and Mr. Clean earring barred my way as I stalked toward the waiting G.B...

I had seen him while checking out, noting him as merely a hulking figure with possibly nasty intentions toward a rack of magazines. He gave off an aura of anger that was nearly visible it was so obvious.

People of this type make me uncomfortable...They remind me of a certain mercenary I once knew (see the archives for details...it's a long story). Anyway, I didn't know him and I didn't sense any hostility directed toward myself or any of the other patrons, so I tucked away my paranoia and paid for my purchases...Of course, not without reaching down just once to make sure I still had a knife in my boot (better to be safe than scurvy is the pirate motto, I always say...).

As I exited the store, purchases in hand, I bumped against the bald-headed bully with a mumbled, "excuse me," (he was blocking the exit with his large and unpleasantly angry presence) and continued about my merry way.

No big deal, right? Of course it wasn't.

Upon reaching my car however, I realized that I must have left my keys behind on the counter-top in the store. With a muttered curse, I returned to the retail establishment from hell and recovered said keys.

That was when it happened.

As I turned, intending to exit the store, the Hulk blocked my path.

Now that I had a good, up-close, unimpeded view of the mammoth, I was even less impressed than I had been previously.

In addition to the shaved head and the silver loop earring (gauged of course), all of the following were also true about this miscreant:

His eyes were the mud-brown of a backed up cistern and shot through with lines of red...There was also a bit of yellow in there...as if his mother had been a bit too fond of a Rottweiler and he'd ended up with some of its DNA...

He was wearing a wool peacoat that had obviously had a confrontation with a dumpster at some point and managed to come out of things on the losing end...It (and by extension, HE) smelled like a racoon that had been dead in a ditch for a few days...

His feet, clad in black motorcycle boots were the size of sampans, and looked capable of stomping anything from small defenseless children to tiny European countries in a single tromping step.

In short, he would have been a figure to inspire terror in anyone but a Pirate Queen... I work in a Saltmine, NOTHING scares me anymore. I have seen the face of terror, and it is a 6 hour meeting...not some guy in motorcycle boots with a shaved dome.

Anyway, this monstrosity blocked my view and my egress from the store.

He loomed above me, his head swooping down from a great height until he was breathing noxious fumes directly into my airspace. He stared hard at me with his crazy eyes before saying, "Did you PUSH me when you walked out of this store a minute ago? DID YOU? 'Cause that's RUDE...I don't tolerate RUDENESS in my women... Didn't no one ever teach you better than to push people?"

Of course, I realize that I could have avoided this confrontation... Even at the point when he was bending over me, preparing to strike, I could have dodged him.

I could have scooted away.

I'm quick.

I'm flexible.

He wouldn't have had a shot in hell of getting me.

But I was, quite frankly, heartily miffed.

I have been pushed around, taken for granted, and used more than enough for one week, thank you very much, and all it took for me to "go off" was this one guy...ONE GUY with a big attitude and HUGE, RUDE, feet.

I dropped my purchases to the floor, threw myself into the mass of smell there in the doorway before me, lifted one booted heel, and stepped down with all my might on his boot.

I don't care how great your boots are... Nothing can withstand a 5 inch Pirate Queen boot heel.

From a great distance I heard something snap as my weight came down in a compact little package on that one spot. The snap was like a starter pistol, jolting me into adrenaline overdrive and as the behemoth screeched like a cat whose tail had been closed in a door, the endorphins poured out of my addled brain...

I reached down, grabbed a RedBull, pulled it out of my discarded bag, and conked the guy over the head with it, putting him out for good.

Then I opened the darn thing and drank it.

After checking the safety of my remaining purchases and brushing some of the residual smell off my person, I walked out, unlocked the car and drove on my merry way... Only once more stopping by the side of the road to do a little snow dance.

As you can probably guess, I need a mental health day.

Though breaking most of the bones in a bully's foot was certainly a killer way to end a day of tedium, it didn't exactly relax me...

Good thing I've got a vacation coming up...

Here I come.

Watch out.