RE: Eagle Time Secret Santa 2013 - In progress!
03-08-2014, 01:35 AM
Because of no gift from Santa, Fogel wrote me a story! You may read it below. If you like Grand Battles you will probably like this story!
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Spoiler
The weather was miserable. Sirius' only comfort was that it wasn't literally raining cats and dogs, though that small relief was offset by the bright yellow smiling face on his umbrella.
He unfolded the assignment scroll again to remind himself of why he was even here in the first place. At least this one sounded reasonable, for once - he wasn't being called on to break up a pie fight, or to take a "KICK ME" sign off a high-level diplomat's back.
No, this time, either due to sheer chance or the pity of someone higher up the heavenly ladder, Sirius had been granted a mission that didn't immediately sound ridiculous.
"Several of the world's most nefarious criminal masterminds have been invited to a gathering of some kind. Find out where they're going and stop whatever they're up to. Make efforts at redemption where feasible."
Of course, Sirius was still on guard. The message hadn't mentioned anything ridiculous, but in this world that was no guarantee. Perhaps these criminal masterminds were going to hold their grand meeting in a theme park, or perhaps their ultimate scheme would turn out to be creating a new "evil" flavor of ice cream.
For the moment, however, he was looking for information. He wandered through the warehouse district until he found the address he'd been given. The sounds of machinery inside, along with the fact that the warehouse wasn't actually supposed to be in use, suggested he had the right place.
He knocked on the door.
"Just a moment!"
The door opened, and Sirius was greeted by the smiling face of Saint Scofflaw.
"Well, this is a surprise! Normally, my visitors kick the door in. Nice umbrella, by the way."
Sirius glared at him.
"I'm only authorized to use violence if you resist. So I'm going to cut right to the chase. I want to know where this gathering is."
"Gathering? What gathering?"
"The one for the world's top criminal masterminds. The one I'm supposed to stop."
"How dare they! Who dares to hold a gathering of the greatest criminal minds without inviting Saint Scofflaw? What kind of twisted joke is this?"
"It isn't a joke," Sirius said, but Scofflaw was already in full swing.
"This is an outrage! A travesty! A mockery of injustice! And I will not let it stand!"
"Well, this has been a waste of time," Sirius muttered, turning around. "If he's not going, there's no point in staying here."
"I'll find their little meeting and I'll show them who the world's greatest criminal is! I'LL SHOW THEM ALL! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Sirius groaned and turned back towards Scofflaw.
"You can find their meeting place? How are you going to do that?"
"Oh, it's simple," Scofflaw said. "Just follow me and I'll show you."
Against his better judgement, Sirius followed the career villain into his lair. Scofflaw walked over to a console next to a large monitor and pressed a single button on it.
"And there it is!"
The monitor turned on, displaying a map of the world with a single blinking red dot.
"How could you possibly do that?" Sirius exclaimed. "How could you show the location with the press of one button unless you'd already programmed it in there?"
"As much as I enjoy explaining the many facets of my genius," Scofflaw said, beaming, "we really should be on our way. I'll get the jet ready."
"Wait, what do you mean 'we'?"
"We as in 'you and me', friend! You brought this matter to my attention, and our goals happen to align in this instance. Of course you'll be coming along. Unless you can fly at Mach 3? I admit, I haven't really looked into the air capabilities of an angel."
"You raise a distressingly good point," Sirius conceded. "I'm going along, but only to keep an eye on you."
"Splendid! I'm sure we'll have much to talk about. We can discuss the universe's great mysteries, and after I've given you my answers to them you can send a message back home explaining how much better my methods are than whatever you're doing up there."
Sirius groaned.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you."
"Immeasurably! I love watching a trainwreck in progress."
----
The Organizer of Crime smiled. After months of planning, he was ready to launch his new syndicate. Only one key step remained: convincing the most powerful members of the criminal underworld to join him.
Of course, that was no small task. He had called in dozens of favors merely to get their attention. But now they were all there, gathered in his auditorium, waiting to hear what he had to say.
He would not disappoint them. He stepped up to the podium.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and whatever else you like to call yourselves. I stand before you to announce the beginning of a bold new era of criminal enterprise."
"Get to the point," someone growled. "Who are you, and what do you want from us?"
"Ah, the Red Claw. Always direct and to the point, in conversation as well as criminality. It is quite simple - I am the Organizer of Crime, and I am offering you all a chance to be part of the most powerful crime syndicate in history."
"A bold promise," said the skeletal face of Murda Rar. "I already have considerable power at my command. What, exactly, are you offering that I do not already possess?"
"Look around you, Mr. Rar. There are seven other crimelords in attendance with comparable organizations to your own, and I know you have had extensive dealings with several."
"I can attest to that," the Empress of Fear said, adjusting her eyepiece. "We have several ongoing territorial disputes that I would like to discuss with Rar once this silly meeting of yours is concluded."
"Ah, but that is precisely it! These disputes are quite costly to both of you, are they not? And both of your organizations are quite talented in different ways. Imagine the scale of the crimes you could conduct if you all pooled your diverse strengths."
"There is a severe flaw in your hypothesis," the metallic Duchess chimed in. "We have all made partnerships in the past. We have all been backstabbed, and done our share of backstabbing, in those partnerships. How, exactly, do you propose to make your Grand Syndicate any better in this regard?"
"Ooh, Grand Syndicate, that's a good name." The Organizer quickly wrote it down. "Regardless, Duchess, you raise a valid concern. If you weren't all amoral selfish bastards with no qualms about killing anyone who stands in your way, I wouldn't have invited you here in the first place."
"That doesn't actually answer the question," Meatball said. "Or the question of why, even if we did agree this syndicate was a good idea, we would want you to run it. You've given us a name, or more accurately a title, but you haven't actually told us who you are."
"I was about to explain that, actually. All of those points, in fact. Allow me to grant a small demonstration." The Organizer of Crime snapped his fingers, and a piece of paper appeared in front of each of the guests.
"Oh, he can do parlor tricks," the Stag said, puffing on his cigar. "Well, that's certainly leadership qualifications right there."
"If you actually read the papers before you," the Organizer of Crime continued, "you will find detailed descriptions of your respective first offenses. The first crimes you ever committed."
The criminals grudgingly unfolded the paper and read. Each of their eyes widened as faint memories became as vivid as though they were in the middle of conducting the petty thefts, aggravated assaults, or acts of jaywalking that had lead them down the path of crime. Even the Silent One's mouth, despite the stitches holding it closed, seemed to twitch in recognition, and he reflexively held his pincushion a little tighter.
"You may be wondering how I had access to this level of detail about such minor incidents. It is quite simple, really." The Organizer of Crime smiled. "I am crime. I'm there at every murder, every burglary, every traffic violation. I know what you've done, and I thank you for it."
"You are claiming to be a sort of God," Pontiff Rex I said. "As a man of the cloth, I find this hard to accept, even with this very detailed story you've placed before me."
"I am not a god, per se. I am a physical representation of a concept. A concept which you have all served quite well. My objective is merely to make you all more efficient in it."
There was a murmuring among the guests.
"I'm sure you all have numerous questions. I will be glad to..."
There was a loud crash as a fighter jet burst through the roof of the auditorium.
"I have a question," Saint Scofflaw said as he leapt out of the cockpit. "Why wasn't I invited?"
"Because I was only interested in criminals who had something to offer my syndicate," the Organizer of Crime said. "All you're any good at is making a spectacle, to say nothing of your treachery. Has anyone ever worked with you and concluded it was a good idea afterwards?"
There was a resounding "NO!" from the assembled villains. The Silent One had to settle for shaking his head.
"I'm inclined to agree," said a voice from the cockpit. Sirius climbed out, groaning. "I'm already regretting it and he hasn't even actually betrayed me."
"Who's this fool?" the Red Claw sneered. Murda Rar instinctively recoiled.
"I am an agent of Heaven, sent to dispense justice. I am Sirius."
"He really is, you know," Scofflaw said, grinning. "No sense of humor at all!"
Sirius glared at Scofflaw for a moment before resuming his intimidating pose.
"I am able to grant you all one chance at redemption. Take it now, and you shall be spared my wrath."
"Do we get a free umbrella if we accept?" Meatball chuckled.
Sirius glanced at the umbrella hanging from his belt and groaned.
"I didn't pick it out," he said resignedly. "In any case, are there any..."
He was interrupted by eight bullets striking him in the chest.
"No, then," he said, picking himself up from the floor. "Unless one of those was Scofflaw's."
"Of course not! Mine would have hit you in the back."
"What, did you forget your gun?" the Duchess chuckled.
"Judging by the relative lack of damage, it appears we are dealing with the genuine article," Murda Rar said, standing up and raising his gunstaff. "Fortunately, I know how to take care of his ilk. Black Market!"
Murda's staff fired, and a bullet cloaked in darkness flew straight towards Sirius.
It then fell out of the air as Scofflaw held up a small device.
"As a matter of fact, I did not so much 'forget' my gun as render it irrelevant," he said calmly. "You see, there's not really much reason to carry around both a gun and a bullet nullification field generator."
"You could have used that before they all shot me!" Sirius grumbled.
"You're right, I could have." Scofflaw smiled. "Regardless, their weapons are quite useless now..."
The Silent One pulled a dagger out of his pocket and flung it towards Scofflaw's throat. Sirius saw it just in time to push his unwelcome ally out of the way, and catch the dagger in his wing.
"...other than the ones that don't fire bullets, that is. How fortunate that Heaven is on my side!"
"Be quiet," Sirius muttered. He stood up and turned his attention to the criminals. One of them, at least, was easy enough to handle.
"Crossing the boundary of life and death is a grievous sin," he said, flying towards Murda Rar. "Leave this mortal plane, abomination! Angel Sphere!"
Sirius raised his hand and hurled a ball of holy energy right at the skeletal gangster. The other criminals scattered, not wanting to be caught in the blast, but Murda Rar found himself unable to take a single step. He howled in pain as the dark magic binding his soul to his skeletal body was unwoven.
"Wow, that's harsh," Scofflaw said, whistling. "Of course, he'll probably figure out a way back in a week or two."
"Are you actually going to help me at all?" Sirius asked, as the other seven surrounded him.
"I'll consider it," Scofflaw said, glancing around the room. "Right now, I'm wondering where the man running this show went. He seems to have fled."
"I can't say I blame him for wanting to get out of here," Sirius sighed. He grabbed one of the Duchess' limbs as it drew near him. "I really don't care for the company."
The Duchess raised another limb, but Sirius shouted "Conduct!" and channeled electricity through the limb in his hands. The charge flowed throughout Duchess' mechanical body. She screeched horribly and stopped moving.
"That's two down," Scofflaw said. "Or three, rather." He quickly turned around and struck the Silent One, who had slipped away from the crowd of villains. "There, see? I'm being helpful!"
"I can't help but notice that I'm dealing with most of them," Sirius muttered.
"Of course you are," the Empress of Fear said, grabbing a loose chair and striking him with it. "It makes more sense to deal with the greater threat first, after all."
Scofflaw's eyebrow started twitching.
"You dare to suggest he's more of a threat than I am?" Scofflaw quickly ran over to the still form of the Duchess, tripping Rex I on the way. With surprising speed, he removed a few of her limbs and reshaped them into a remote control with a single button on it, just as Rex I picked himself up.
"You shall pay for this heresy," he growled. He took two steps forward, at which point Scofflaw pressted the button and a trapdoor opened right under the Pontiff's feet.
"How did you even do that?" Sirius asked, slowly standing up.
"He just does, trust me, you don't want to think too hard about it," The Stag said, before putting out his cigar in the angel's eye. Enraged, Sirius picked the Stag up and flung him at the Empress, knocking both out.
"Six down now," Scofflaw said, smiling. "You've handled four and I've handled two. It would only be fair if I took the last two."
"So naturally, you won't," Sirius groaned.
Scofflaw laughed and took a few steps back as Meatball tangled the angel up with his noodle-limbs. The Red Claw raised his hand and drew out his claws, grinning wickedly.
"Good to know Scofflaw treats all his partners so well," he sneered.
Sirius didn't say anything. He simply glared as the Red Claw's sharp nails drew closer.
"Ignition," he muttered, before his body burst into flames.
Meatball howled as the flames spread over him, and the Red Claw recoiled as the flames struck his hand. Before he could recover, Sirius had punched him in the face and he fell to the ground, while Meatball rushed for a fire extinguisher. He lifted it up over his meaty body...
...and it burst when Scofflaw shot it with a discarded gun, covering Meatball in foam. Sirius stared at Scofflaw, who shrugged in return.
"Look, do you honestly think I'd use a bullet nullification field without carrying a personal bullet nullification field nullifier?" he asked rhetorically. "That's just common sense, really."
"That surprises me less than the fact that you didn't bring your own gun," Sirius grumbled.
"I had to melt it down to make the nullifier, obviously. I was going to pick up a replacement this afternoon, before you showed up." He smiled and hung his new gun in a holster. "But that hardly seems necessary now."
"I hope you realize that I'm going to be contacting the earthly authorities soon," Sirius said. "And I won't especially care what they do with you."
"That's all right, I'm not technically wanted for any crimes in this particular nation," Scofflaw said, smirking. "Besides, we're not done yet. The ringleader's gotten away."
"Ugh. I guess capturing him is in the scope of my mission, even if we have stopped him from setting up his syndicate. I don't suppose you know where he's gotten away to?"
"Not a clue. Probably he's already in his super-secret hideout plotting his vengeance against us for the sequel!"
Sirius just stared blankly at him.
"One, this is not a movie," he said. "Two, even if it somehow were, there is absolutely no way I would ever agree to appear in a sequel to it, or involve myself with you in any capacity again. None whatsoever."
Scofflaw merely smiled and started tinkering with his crashed jet.
"Keep telling yourself that if you like. But I know what the big summer blockbuster of 2015 will be!"
Before Sirius could respond, the jet had taken off, and unfurled a banner saying "SAINT AND ANGEL II: HOLIER THAN THOU".
By this time, Meatball had dug his way out of the extinguisher foam. He looked up through the gaping hole at the banner, then glanced at Sirius' face.
"You really should have held out for top billing," he said.
The weather was miserable. Sirius' only comfort was that it wasn't literally raining cats and dogs, though that small relief was offset by the bright yellow smiling face on his umbrella.
He unfolded the assignment scroll again to remind himself of why he was even here in the first place. At least this one sounded reasonable, for once - he wasn't being called on to break up a pie fight, or to take a "KICK ME" sign off a high-level diplomat's back.
No, this time, either due to sheer chance or the pity of someone higher up the heavenly ladder, Sirius had been granted a mission that didn't immediately sound ridiculous.
"Several of the world's most nefarious criminal masterminds have been invited to a gathering of some kind. Find out where they're going and stop whatever they're up to. Make efforts at redemption where feasible."
Of course, Sirius was still on guard. The message hadn't mentioned anything ridiculous, but in this world that was no guarantee. Perhaps these criminal masterminds were going to hold their grand meeting in a theme park, or perhaps their ultimate scheme would turn out to be creating a new "evil" flavor of ice cream.
For the moment, however, he was looking for information. He wandered through the warehouse district until he found the address he'd been given. The sounds of machinery inside, along with the fact that the warehouse wasn't actually supposed to be in use, suggested he had the right place.
He knocked on the door.
"Just a moment!"
The door opened, and Sirius was greeted by the smiling face of Saint Scofflaw.
"Well, this is a surprise! Normally, my visitors kick the door in. Nice umbrella, by the way."
Sirius glared at him.
"I'm only authorized to use violence if you resist. So I'm going to cut right to the chase. I want to know where this gathering is."
"Gathering? What gathering?"
"The one for the world's top criminal masterminds. The one I'm supposed to stop."
"How dare they! Who dares to hold a gathering of the greatest criminal minds without inviting Saint Scofflaw? What kind of twisted joke is this?"
"It isn't a joke," Sirius said, but Scofflaw was already in full swing.
"This is an outrage! A travesty! A mockery of injustice! And I will not let it stand!"
"Well, this has been a waste of time," Sirius muttered, turning around. "If he's not going, there's no point in staying here."
"I'll find their little meeting and I'll show them who the world's greatest criminal is! I'LL SHOW THEM ALL! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Sirius groaned and turned back towards Scofflaw.
"You can find their meeting place? How are you going to do that?"
"Oh, it's simple," Scofflaw said. "Just follow me and I'll show you."
Against his better judgement, Sirius followed the career villain into his lair. Scofflaw walked over to a console next to a large monitor and pressed a single button on it.
"And there it is!"
The monitor turned on, displaying a map of the world with a single blinking red dot.
"How could you possibly do that?" Sirius exclaimed. "How could you show the location with the press of one button unless you'd already programmed it in there?"
"As much as I enjoy explaining the many facets of my genius," Scofflaw said, beaming, "we really should be on our way. I'll get the jet ready."
"Wait, what do you mean 'we'?"
"We as in 'you and me', friend! You brought this matter to my attention, and our goals happen to align in this instance. Of course you'll be coming along. Unless you can fly at Mach 3? I admit, I haven't really looked into the air capabilities of an angel."
"You raise a distressingly good point," Sirius conceded. "I'm going along, but only to keep an eye on you."
"Splendid! I'm sure we'll have much to talk about. We can discuss the universe's great mysteries, and after I've given you my answers to them you can send a message back home explaining how much better my methods are than whatever you're doing up there."
Sirius groaned.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you."
"Immeasurably! I love watching a trainwreck in progress."
----
The Organizer of Crime smiled. After months of planning, he was ready to launch his new syndicate. Only one key step remained: convincing the most powerful members of the criminal underworld to join him.
Of course, that was no small task. He had called in dozens of favors merely to get their attention. But now they were all there, gathered in his auditorium, waiting to hear what he had to say.
He would not disappoint them. He stepped up to the podium.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and whatever else you like to call yourselves. I stand before you to announce the beginning of a bold new era of criminal enterprise."
"Get to the point," someone growled. "Who are you, and what do you want from us?"
"Ah, the Red Claw. Always direct and to the point, in conversation as well as criminality. It is quite simple - I am the Organizer of Crime, and I am offering you all a chance to be part of the most powerful crime syndicate in history."
"A bold promise," said the skeletal face of Murda Rar. "I already have considerable power at my command. What, exactly, are you offering that I do not already possess?"
"Look around you, Mr. Rar. There are seven other crimelords in attendance with comparable organizations to your own, and I know you have had extensive dealings with several."
"I can attest to that," the Empress of Fear said, adjusting her eyepiece. "We have several ongoing territorial disputes that I would like to discuss with Rar once this silly meeting of yours is concluded."
"Ah, but that is precisely it! These disputes are quite costly to both of you, are they not? And both of your organizations are quite talented in different ways. Imagine the scale of the crimes you could conduct if you all pooled your diverse strengths."
"There is a severe flaw in your hypothesis," the metallic Duchess chimed in. "We have all made partnerships in the past. We have all been backstabbed, and done our share of backstabbing, in those partnerships. How, exactly, do you propose to make your Grand Syndicate any better in this regard?"
"Ooh, Grand Syndicate, that's a good name." The Organizer quickly wrote it down. "Regardless, Duchess, you raise a valid concern. If you weren't all amoral selfish bastards with no qualms about killing anyone who stands in your way, I wouldn't have invited you here in the first place."
"That doesn't actually answer the question," Meatball said. "Or the question of why, even if we did agree this syndicate was a good idea, we would want you to run it. You've given us a name, or more accurately a title, but you haven't actually told us who you are."
"I was about to explain that, actually. All of those points, in fact. Allow me to grant a small demonstration." The Organizer of Crime snapped his fingers, and a piece of paper appeared in front of each of the guests.
"Oh, he can do parlor tricks," the Stag said, puffing on his cigar. "Well, that's certainly leadership qualifications right there."
"If you actually read the papers before you," the Organizer of Crime continued, "you will find detailed descriptions of your respective first offenses. The first crimes you ever committed."
The criminals grudgingly unfolded the paper and read. Each of their eyes widened as faint memories became as vivid as though they were in the middle of conducting the petty thefts, aggravated assaults, or acts of jaywalking that had lead them down the path of crime. Even the Silent One's mouth, despite the stitches holding it closed, seemed to twitch in recognition, and he reflexively held his pincushion a little tighter.
"You may be wondering how I had access to this level of detail about such minor incidents. It is quite simple, really." The Organizer of Crime smiled. "I am crime. I'm there at every murder, every burglary, every traffic violation. I know what you've done, and I thank you for it."
"You are claiming to be a sort of God," Pontiff Rex I said. "As a man of the cloth, I find this hard to accept, even with this very detailed story you've placed before me."
"I am not a god, per se. I am a physical representation of a concept. A concept which you have all served quite well. My objective is merely to make you all more efficient in it."
There was a murmuring among the guests.
"I'm sure you all have numerous questions. I will be glad to..."
There was a loud crash as a fighter jet burst through the roof of the auditorium.
"I have a question," Saint Scofflaw said as he leapt out of the cockpit. "Why wasn't I invited?"
"Because I was only interested in criminals who had something to offer my syndicate," the Organizer of Crime said. "All you're any good at is making a spectacle, to say nothing of your treachery. Has anyone ever worked with you and concluded it was a good idea afterwards?"
There was a resounding "NO!" from the assembled villains. The Silent One had to settle for shaking his head.
"I'm inclined to agree," said a voice from the cockpit. Sirius climbed out, groaning. "I'm already regretting it and he hasn't even actually betrayed me."
"Who's this fool?" the Red Claw sneered. Murda Rar instinctively recoiled.
"I am an agent of Heaven, sent to dispense justice. I am Sirius."
"He really is, you know," Scofflaw said, grinning. "No sense of humor at all!"
Sirius glared at Scofflaw for a moment before resuming his intimidating pose.
"I am able to grant you all one chance at redemption. Take it now, and you shall be spared my wrath."
"Do we get a free umbrella if we accept?" Meatball chuckled.
Sirius glanced at the umbrella hanging from his belt and groaned.
"I didn't pick it out," he said resignedly. "In any case, are there any..."
He was interrupted by eight bullets striking him in the chest.
"No, then," he said, picking himself up from the floor. "Unless one of those was Scofflaw's."
"Of course not! Mine would have hit you in the back."
"What, did you forget your gun?" the Duchess chuckled.
"Judging by the relative lack of damage, it appears we are dealing with the genuine article," Murda Rar said, standing up and raising his gunstaff. "Fortunately, I know how to take care of his ilk. Black Market!"
Murda's staff fired, and a bullet cloaked in darkness flew straight towards Sirius.
It then fell out of the air as Scofflaw held up a small device.
"As a matter of fact, I did not so much 'forget' my gun as render it irrelevant," he said calmly. "You see, there's not really much reason to carry around both a gun and a bullet nullification field generator."
"You could have used that before they all shot me!" Sirius grumbled.
"You're right, I could have." Scofflaw smiled. "Regardless, their weapons are quite useless now..."
The Silent One pulled a dagger out of his pocket and flung it towards Scofflaw's throat. Sirius saw it just in time to push his unwelcome ally out of the way, and catch the dagger in his wing.
"...other than the ones that don't fire bullets, that is. How fortunate that Heaven is on my side!"
"Be quiet," Sirius muttered. He stood up and turned his attention to the criminals. One of them, at least, was easy enough to handle.
"Crossing the boundary of life and death is a grievous sin," he said, flying towards Murda Rar. "Leave this mortal plane, abomination! Angel Sphere!"
Sirius raised his hand and hurled a ball of holy energy right at the skeletal gangster. The other criminals scattered, not wanting to be caught in the blast, but Murda Rar found himself unable to take a single step. He howled in pain as the dark magic binding his soul to his skeletal body was unwoven.
"Wow, that's harsh," Scofflaw said, whistling. "Of course, he'll probably figure out a way back in a week or two."
"Are you actually going to help me at all?" Sirius asked, as the other seven surrounded him.
"I'll consider it," Scofflaw said, glancing around the room. "Right now, I'm wondering where the man running this show went. He seems to have fled."
"I can't say I blame him for wanting to get out of here," Sirius sighed. He grabbed one of the Duchess' limbs as it drew near him. "I really don't care for the company."
The Duchess raised another limb, but Sirius shouted "Conduct!" and channeled electricity through the limb in his hands. The charge flowed throughout Duchess' mechanical body. She screeched horribly and stopped moving.
"That's two down," Scofflaw said. "Or three, rather." He quickly turned around and struck the Silent One, who had slipped away from the crowd of villains. "There, see? I'm being helpful!"
"I can't help but notice that I'm dealing with most of them," Sirius muttered.
"Of course you are," the Empress of Fear said, grabbing a loose chair and striking him with it. "It makes more sense to deal with the greater threat first, after all."
Scofflaw's eyebrow started twitching.
"You dare to suggest he's more of a threat than I am?" Scofflaw quickly ran over to the still form of the Duchess, tripping Rex I on the way. With surprising speed, he removed a few of her limbs and reshaped them into a remote control with a single button on it, just as Rex I picked himself up.
"You shall pay for this heresy," he growled. He took two steps forward, at which point Scofflaw pressted the button and a trapdoor opened right under the Pontiff's feet.
"How did you even do that?" Sirius asked, slowly standing up.
"He just does, trust me, you don't want to think too hard about it," The Stag said, before putting out his cigar in the angel's eye. Enraged, Sirius picked the Stag up and flung him at the Empress, knocking both out.
"Six down now," Scofflaw said, smiling. "You've handled four and I've handled two. It would only be fair if I took the last two."
"So naturally, you won't," Sirius groaned.
Scofflaw laughed and took a few steps back as Meatball tangled the angel up with his noodle-limbs. The Red Claw raised his hand and drew out his claws, grinning wickedly.
"Good to know Scofflaw treats all his partners so well," he sneered.
Sirius didn't say anything. He simply glared as the Red Claw's sharp nails drew closer.
"Ignition," he muttered, before his body burst into flames.
Meatball howled as the flames spread over him, and the Red Claw recoiled as the flames struck his hand. Before he could recover, Sirius had punched him in the face and he fell to the ground, while Meatball rushed for a fire extinguisher. He lifted it up over his meaty body...
...and it burst when Scofflaw shot it with a discarded gun, covering Meatball in foam. Sirius stared at Scofflaw, who shrugged in return.
"Look, do you honestly think I'd use a bullet nullification field without carrying a personal bullet nullification field nullifier?" he asked rhetorically. "That's just common sense, really."
"That surprises me less than the fact that you didn't bring your own gun," Sirius grumbled.
"I had to melt it down to make the nullifier, obviously. I was going to pick up a replacement this afternoon, before you showed up." He smiled and hung his new gun in a holster. "But that hardly seems necessary now."
"I hope you realize that I'm going to be contacting the earthly authorities soon," Sirius said. "And I won't especially care what they do with you."
"That's all right, I'm not technically wanted for any crimes in this particular nation," Scofflaw said, smirking. "Besides, we're not done yet. The ringleader's gotten away."
"Ugh. I guess capturing him is in the scope of my mission, even if we have stopped him from setting up his syndicate. I don't suppose you know where he's gotten away to?"
"Not a clue. Probably he's already in his super-secret hideout plotting his vengeance against us for the sequel!"
Sirius just stared blankly at him.
"One, this is not a movie," he said. "Two, even if it somehow were, there is absolutely no way I would ever agree to appear in a sequel to it, or involve myself with you in any capacity again. None whatsoever."
Scofflaw merely smiled and started tinkering with his crashed jet.
"Keep telling yourself that if you like. But I know what the big summer blockbuster of 2015 will be!"
Before Sirius could respond, the jet had taken off, and unfurled a banner saying "SAINT AND ANGEL II: HOLIER THAN THOU".
By this time, Meatball had dug his way out of the extinguisher foam. He looked up through the gaping hole at the banner, then glanced at Sirius' face.
"You really should have held out for top billing," he said.