Scurvy Goonda
Page 20
At that word, Declan’s eyes dampened. He nodded.
“But first you need to tell me how to use this,” said Ted, holding up his arm.
“All I know is that it seems to work best when you need it most,” said Declan.
“Explain that to my arm,” said Ted.
“Can’t,” laughed Declan. “Mine won’t listen either.”
Ted smiled. He remembered his father’s laugh.
“Brother Dezo,” said Ted. “How is the Swamster doing?”
“Swamstah mo bettah, bruddah.”
Ted stood over Swamster.
“Swamster,” he said. “Can you tell us where the weapons that were seized from ACORN are stored?”
“I’m afraid they’ve been distributed to President Skeleton’s troops,” said Swamster.
“All of them?” said Joelle-Michelle.
“A few might have been taken to the lab for examination,” said Swamster. “There’s a laboratory on the border of the palace grounds.”
“Could you take me there?” said Ted.
“I think so,” said Swamster.
“Good,” said Ted. “All right, Carolina, you’re coming with me.”
“Why her?” said Joelle-Michelle.
“Since she’s human, she won’t explode if she gets VIDGA solution on her,” said Ted.
“Explode?” said Carolina. “Wait—”
“But I am the leader of ACORN!” said Joelle-Michelle.
“That’s why you need to be here,” Ted explained. “What would happen to them, to us, if you didn’t come back?”
Joelle-Michelle paused. She suspected that Ted simply wanted to be alone with that Carolina, but she wouldn’t throw a tantrum now. She reminded herself that she was a Frenchwoman. She would save it up and find a way to get back at him creatively.
“Oui,” said Joelle-Michelle. “You go with Swamster, I will stay here.”
“It won’t take long,” said Ted, sliding open the cell door. “Come on, Carolina.”
Joelle-Michelle removed one of her ballet slippers and handed it to Ted.
“Use it if you get in trouble, mon ami,” she said.
At that moment, Ted had never wished for anything as much as he wished to know what mon ami meant.
XI
Ted, Carolina, and Swamster barely managed to slide out of the stairwell before the guards returned to their posts in the cell block. Hiding behind a chocolate fountain topped by statues of Persephone and Scurvy dancing in each other’s arms, Ted could see a half dozen guards streaming down the stairs, some of whom looked like they had been bruised and broken in the scuffle with Scurvy.
Swamster motioned for Ted and Carolina to follow him. Ducking behind ice sculptures, they made their way off the palace grounds. Down the road, Ted could see lines of transport trucks moving toward the estate—trucks that would be hauling everyone from ACORN off to the processing factories. They needed to find the laboratory quickly.
“See that set of buildings on the edge of the forest?” Swamster whispered. “That’s the main lab.”
They ducked behind trees and shrubs until they reached the laboratory, where a sleepy-looking guard stood in front of the main door. Pressing their bodies against the outside wall so they wouldn’t be seen, they had a clear view of the transport trucks.
“Should we try to distract the guard?” whispered Ted to Swamster.
“I don’t think there’s time.”
Ted removed Joelle-Michelle’s ballet slipper from his pocket, sprinted around the corner of the building, and chucked it hard at the guard. The slipper whacked into the guard’s surprised face, and he exploded in a purple gush that splashed against the laboratory door.
“I didn’t know I could throw,” said Ted, picking up the slipper.
“Can you get us in?” Ted asked Swamster.
“Uh, yes,” said Swamster, turning the doorknob. “It’s not locked.”
Entering the lab, they stayed low to the ground with Swamster in the lead. The rooms were medicinally clean, and random scientists were milling about, all of whom were paying rapt attention to a cauldron in the center of the room. Next to the cauldron was a bundle of ACORN weapons. Ted could see Brother Dezo’s ukulele. The head scientist, wearing a WATCHOUT! suit, was scraping solution samples off the weapons and looking at them under a microscope.
“Add another celebrity magazine!” the head scientist commanded.
A pair of scientists dropped a tabloid magazine into the mix. The scientists, who apparently hadn’t figured out that the solution was rendered from specific melted video games, were duplicating the formula using other monotonous media.
“Now,” said the head scientist. “Let’s test it out.”
A frightened bison was led out of a crate. Ted recognized the bison as the gravestone-eater from the ACORN hideout.
Oh no, thought Ted, watching as a scientist sucked liquid from the cauldron using a baster, walked over to the bison, and put a few drops on its head.
Drip. Drip.
POP!
The bison exploded in a purple mist. The scientists threw their hands in the air triumphantly.
“Success!” said the head scientist. “Let the army know that we’ve cracked the formula!”
Ted motioned for Carolina to circle around to the other side of a counter, and for Swamster to stay put. When Carolina looked back at him, he made a push motion. She nodded.
As the head scientist reached for the phone, Ted counted down with his fingers: Three. Two. One.
“GO!” he shouted.
On cue, Ted and Carolina rushed in from opposite sides of the room. Ted crashed into the head scientist, sending him tumbling into the cauldron. Ted grabbed the baster and sprayed an assistant with the remaining drops, turning him to vapor. Only a WATCHOUT!-suited worker was left, and together Ted and Carolina knocked him to the ground and tore off his hood.
It was Bugslush.
“D-don’t h-hurt me!”
Hiding behind the lab counter, Swamster recognized Bugslush’s voice and stood up.
“Bugslush!” said Swamster.
“Oh n-no,” said Bugslush.
“This possum-thing works for the crazy skeleton-maniac,” said Carolina. “I saw him before I was sent to jail.”
“He took my job working for President Skeleton,” said Swamster. “Career thief!”
“Oh d-dear …,” said Bugslush.
“What are you doing here?” said Ted.
“I have a m-master’s degree in c-chemistry…,” said Bugslush. “President Skeleton asked me to h-help replicate the f-formula. …”
“Throw him in the pot,” said Swamster.
“Wait,” said Ted. “We’re not going to be able to make it back to the cell blocks carrying the weapons and the solution. But if the army brought ACORN to us.”
Ted looked at the phone on the wall.
“Bugslush, it’s time for you to make a call.”
XII
If Persephone had had tear ducts, she would have been crying. If she had had a heart, it would have been broken.
This was not how she had pictured her wedding day. Yes, she was standing on a platform while her seamstresses whirled around her, draping her wedding dress over her bones. She had already spent an hour in the makeup chair and another hour having an expensive wig fitted to her skull, but none of it was fun or as special as she had hoped it would be, what with Scurvy sitting in a cage in the corner of the room.
“The groom ain’t supposed tah see tha bride ‘fore tha weddin’,” said Scurvy.
“Yes, and the groom is also not supposed to fight off dozens of employees of the bride while screaming that he doesn’t want to get married!” said Persephone.
“Ya gotta point,” said Scurvy.
“I will not be embarrassed!” said Persephone, sliding her talons into a pair of high-heeled shoes. “This wedding is happening!”
At least, thought Scurvy, if I’m in me cage, maybe I won’t have tah kiss th
e bride.
“Here,” said Persephone, throwing Scurvy’s tuxedo into the cage. “Tux up!”
Dutifully, Scurvy began to strip off his dirty pajamas. There was a knock at the door.
“THIS BETTER BE IMPORTANT!” said Persephone.
A guard peeked his head into the room, holding a telephone on a gold platter.
“Telephone,” grunted the guard. “Bugslush.”
Persephone grabbed the phone.
“WHAT?” she said.
“Hello, President Skeleton,” said Bugslush on the other end of the line. “I have some good news for you.”
Persephone paused.
“Why aren’t you stuttering?” said Persephone.
In the laboratory, Ted hovered over Bugslush with the badminton racket he had recovered. Bugslush wasn’t stuttering because he was so nervous that he had actually overloaded the stuttering part of his brain and could therefore speak normally.
“Just feeling relaxed,” said Bugslush.
“What do you want?” said Persephone.
“I wanted to let you know that we cracked the formula for the solution.”
“Excellent!”
“And we were thinking that instead of taking ACORN to the processing factory,” said Bugslush, “you could simply have ACORN fighters brought over to the lab, and we could hose them down. They wouldn’t even need to be taken out of the trucks.”
Persephone thought about this.
“That would be simpler than having them trucked back and forth,” Persephone admitted.
“It would also give us the chance to see if the solution works on everybody,” said Bugslush.
Persephone thought about this.
“Fine. Do it,” she said, and hung up. “Have the prisoners brought to the lab,” she directed the guard who had brought in the phone.
When the guard had exited, Persephone took a deep breath.
“Could I see that broom for a moment?” said Persephone to a seamstress sweeping up stray pins. When she had the broom in her wing, she flipped it around, walked over to Scurvy’s cage, and poked him with the handle.
“Kiss your bacon GOODBYE!” said Persephone. “From now on all you get for your stomach are broom handles! EAT THAT HANDLE!”
“Arrgh,” said Scurvy.
XIII
Had Ted failed?
Hordes of guards had returned to the cell block, and he and the others hadn’t returned from their mission to the laboratory.
Maybe he and Carolina are under a tree somewhere too busy kissing to save their comrades, thought Joelle-Michelle. I bet they’re picnicking.
“Ha!” shouted one of the guards. “Look at dis! We accidentally left da cells unlocked and dey didn’t go nowhere! ACORN is stupid!”
Joelle-Michelle lowered her head and let herself be forced up the staircase by the guards, feeling the cold stone under her shoeless foot. The rest of ACORN walked next to her, equally downhearted. She looked over at Eric—the bonsai tree growing out of his head was nothing but twigs. She looked at Brother Dezo, whose lei had been ripped to shreds. He was still holding some of the flower scraps in his hand.
When the members of ACORN were forced into the transport trucks, Joelle-Michelle found herself sitting across from Dwack, Vango, and Dr. Narwhal.
“I’m sure Ted did his best,” said Joelle-Michelle.
“Certainly,” said Dwack.
“President Skeleton has such a huge army,” started Joelle-Michelle, “and that Carolina couldn’t have been much help to him.” The guards shut the back door, plunging the truck into darkness, and she could hear the doors of other trucks slamming shut. The truck started to move.
Joelle-Michelle heard ab-coms weeping. This was her ACORN? This was how she led her forces?
“Non!” said Joelle-Michelle. In the dark, she could hear the sound of heads turning toward her. “Messieurs et mesdames! This may be our last ride, but I want to tell you, I am proud to have known each and every one of you. If we are to face our fate inside a processing factory, it is an honor to think my processed parts might someday be combined with yours. But we will not go down with a whimper. And so I say to you: let us rock this truck!”
Joelle-Michelle threw her back against the wall.
“One wall, and then the next!” she shouted. “We will topple these trucks, and if they want to take us to our graves, they will have to drag us fighting! Allons-y! Let’s go!”
Joelle-Michelle threw herself against the wall again, and this time, other ACORN fighters joined in, slamming against each other and the walls, rocking the truck back and forth.
“Keep going!” said Joelle-Michelle.
The truck tilted up on one set of wheels and then the other.
Then the truck stopped. There was a banging sound up front, and then muffled shouts from outside of “Hey!” and “What the—” which were followed by more thumps.
“Here they come,” said Joelle-Michelle to her troops. “When they open the door, we will rush them. I will lead.”
There was the sound of jangling keys outside the door, which then flew open, filling the truck with light.
“Allez!” shouted Joelle-Michelle, charging out of the truck with the rest of ACORN at her back. Her body thumped into another body, sending it sprawling, and she heard someone yell “Stop!” at the same moment she found herself flying through the air and skidding across the ground in a purple puddle.
Joelle-Michelle covered her head, but nobody was attacking her. When she looked up, Carolina was standing above her, holding a fire extinguisher, offering her hand.
“Come on,” said Carolina. Ted, trying to catch his breath, was lying in the middle of the purple puddle where Joelle-Michelle had barreled into him.
“That’s what I get for rescuing you?” said Ted. A fire extinguisher lay on the ground next to him. Farther along, Joelle-Michelle saw Swamster, who was wearing a WATCHOUT! suit and rushing from truck to truck, spraying the drivers with his own fire extinguisher.
“You ambushed the trucks,” said Joelle-Michelle, disbelieving. He hadn’t let them down—he had saved them?
“We filled the fire extinguishers with VIDGA solution,” Ted explained. He took something out of his pocket.
“Your slipper,” he said. “Foot up.” Joelle-Michelle raised her foot, and Ted slid her shoe on.
“Merci,” said Joelle-Michelle, smiling.
Carolina rolled her eyes.
“Get everybody inside,” said Ted. “There are no more extinguishers, but I have some other ideas.”
XIV
Noon-ish.
The last of the important guests were taking their seats at the tables closest to the wedding gazebo—mostly politicians who had supported Persephone, interspersed with individuals such as the peacock who had done the interior design on her apartment. For additional security, Persephone was using guards as ushers. Once the guards had seated the important guests, they formed a line across the courtyard, behind which common abstract companions could stand and get a peek at the social event of the millennium.
Persephone peered out the window. Her bones were chattering, and she hoped her guests wouldn’t be able to tell that she was nervous. After all, this wasn’t the good kind of giddy, it’s-my-wedding-day nervousness. No, Persephone was nervous about what guests would say. They were bound to gossip—it was probably never a good sign when the groom was in a cage. But she was hoping that once they attacked New York, all the guests would be too busy exterminating humans and wreaking revenge and those sorts of things to chew over the wedding details.
The bride picked up a pair of binoculars and looked out at the laboratory on the border of the palace grounds. The trucks were still parked out front and there were splashes of purple on the ground—Bugslush and the scientists were apparently doing a nice job getting rid of those tacky ACORN troops.
“Good riddance,” said Persephone.
She took a final look at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was perfect. Her plush blo
nd wig sat high on her skull. Her bridal gown hung from her shoulder blades, loose on top and hemmed in around her waist, which gave her the appearance of having curves. The effect was dramatic, with that long train that stretched out behind her. Persephone felt pretty.
She checked the clock—ten minutes past noon. In fifteen minutes, Scurvy would be wheeled in his cage to the wedding gazebo, and in twenty minutes, Persephone would walk herself down the aisle.
She lowered her veil, and her world turned white.
XV
In the meantime, ACORN was tearing apart the inside of the laboratory—chairs, counters, plumbing, ceiling fans—salvaging anything that could be swung, shot, or thrown. Ted, Declan, and Carolina were in charge of dipping the make shift weaponry into the cauldron of knockoff VIDGA solution, after which Swamster distributed the weapons, instructing their new owners on how to hold them without inadvertently popping themselves. Brother Dezo had recovered his ukulele, and he was working with Joelle-Michelle on a battle plan to hit the palace and cut Persephone’s army off from the main vent.
Ted caught his father looking at him over the cauldron.
“What is it?” said Ted.
“I’m so sad that I don’t know you,” said Declan.
“Me too,” said Ted. “But after the fight maybe we can fix that.”
“Then I’ll make sure we win if I have to take down every last one of them myself,” said Declan.
“Attention!” Joelle-Michelle commanded.
The ACORN fighters stopped what they were doing and turned her way.
“We have a rough plan,” said Joelle-Michelle. “We will be dividing into three groups—Ted, Brother Dezo, and I will each lead one. Ted, unless you can imagine us to victory now, you will be leading the assault on the palace.”
Ted looked down at his birthmark. Nope. Nothing going on.
“Ah well, perhaps later,” said Joelle-Michelle. “For now you’ll need just a small group. Your main goal is to draw Persephone’s army toward the palace. At which point Brother Dezo and I will flank the army from opposite sides with larger divisions. The only way we’ll have a chance against that many troops is by surprising and trapping them from several angles.”