So Says The Mouse In My Hair

In Which The Negative Reveals His Secret Weapon

And now for all you clock watchers out there, you should know that The Negative, who we left with a horrible despondency, has one minute to save Pablo’ house from certain annihilation. He is standing on his lawn with his new friend Sam and his old friend, La Femme Violet (pronounced, of course, VEE-o-let). And since last we met, they have been joined by several bulldozers, a wrecking ball, and an auctioneer (who would never be able to sufficiently explain what he was doing, or how he came to be there).
The Negative has capitulated to ever mounting despair; he is sitting on the lawn, possibly getting grass stains on his lovely new spandex suit. And Scene!

"Dude, you’ve got to get up. This is so not cool," La Femme Violet tells her boss, "So your parents messed up. It happens. We all learn to see that our parents are… I guess you would say sketchy, huh? Yeah. It’s no biggie. You still have your card to play, right?"

The Negative was not paying attention to her due to the mind bogglingly huge pond of self pity he happened to be drowning in at the time. La Femme Violet, in true form for a woman who has a crush on her superhero employer, wanted to pat him on the back in one of those pathetic and weak attempts at consolation. But since she was on the opposite side of the lawn from him, she would have to travel a short distance to accomplish this.

An easy task, one might suppose, and hardly worthy of mention. But of course it is worthy of mention, because this simple act would bring about a chain reaction whose echoes we are still listening for today. Allow me to explain.

While walking across the grass, La Femme Violet stepped into an inconsequential hole and fell.
"Damn rodents," she said.

Scholars have argued for some time whether or not this hole was actually the work of rodents or not, but the answer is rather trivial. It is enough to know that all holes of this nature on Lucy’s lawn were caused by rodents, leaving rodents as a perfectly justifiable explanation for her now sprained ankle.

At this precise moment, several things happened.

1. The clock hit 0 minutes and 1 second left to stop this abomination.
2. The bulldozers and the wrecking ball and the auctioneer braced themselves for the "good part."
3. La Femme Violet’s comment about rodents registered in The Negative’s brain causing him reflexively to push a button that he had conveniently programmed into his watch.

And that was all it took. An aide almost instantaneously ran up to Sam and whispered something into his ear, which caused Sam to yell in a voice so angry and nefarious that the bulldozers and the wrecking ball and the auctioneer were instantly paralyzed. A fortunate series of events for them, considering what followed.

Sam was mad, indeed livid. He marched up to The Negative and frowned down upon his person.
"What have you done?"

"I have ruined you," The Negative confidently replied, "the way you just ruined me, so now we’re even. Specifically, with one little jab onto this button which I so conveniently programmed into my watch here, I sent a picture to all major media outlets across the globe. And the picture I sent them, showed this!"

With a flourish he pulled a piece of paper out of the sleeve of his costume. Much as it would have been easier to pull this out of a pocket, no one had as yet found a method for attaching pockets to spandex suits. This is the ultimate gripe of any superhero, you would not believe how much flack I hear about this.

But back to that piece of paper, it was the final product of that hour he had spent at his computer, a picture of Sam embracing… a vole! Both wore insidious grins, and one of them (I won't say who) had a cigar in his mouth. The background was a lush, palatial kind of setting with expensive-but-tasteful decorations and furniture. A true picture of opulent greed and ultimate evil which no one anywhere in this universe could find to be anything but abominable and despicable.

"I would never stoop to such a level!" Sam cried. "This is not only embarrassing and capable of destroying everything I have built these past decades, it is completely and utterly false! How dare you attempt to spread such wicked lies!"

"Photographs do not lie, friend Sam," The Negative replied with a smile. "Deny all you want, but you will not survive. Sexual harassment? Employing illegal immigrants? Forcing thousands of Americans out of work for your personal gain? Child’s play, as you have so wonderfully demonstrated, but allying yourself with the lowest, most destructive life force known to humanity. Sorry buddy. You’re toast."

He was right too. At that moment, another aide approached Sam and explained to him that in the past minute or two, over 30,000 law suits had been filed, his stock had toileted and his wife was asking for a divorce. Yes indeed, this was certainly the end of an era, and The Negative couldn’t help but gloat at this triumph. And he happened to be VERY good at gloating.

"Well, I guess there’s no point in my hanging around anymore is there? Back to the hot house, huh?" Sam asked no one in partcular. Not that no one in particular was listening. In fact, he has several particular listeners.

"Well, that’s if Satan will even have you," La Femme Violet interjected. She was also a great fan of a good gloat. "I don’t think you’ll find him very welcoming just now. I hear even he can’t stand those voles."

And so Sam skunked off into the evening, leaving behind him Pablo’s house, all in one piece. while La Femme Violet and The Negative took a well deserved break on his front porch.

"So," he began, "my mom and dad, they..."

"Just another anecdote for your therapist. We all need to have them." She consoled.

"You’re right," he said, changing the topic for no particular reason. "About the name, I mean. The Negative isn’t working very well. And it’s got more of a villain aura to it. I don’t think it’s going to work."

"I know the feeling. La Femme Violet is nice and all, but what is she actually capable of? These answers are always in the name, and there's just nothing there. No good, I tell you. Just not working."

"Maybe Picture Perfect. Yes. That’s what I’ll call myself. It sounds so much more positive, and upbeat than The Negative. Not to mention the necessary pun works better too."

The sun’s final beams of the evening spread across the neighborhood in a moment of magic. Picture Perfect noticed this, and he watched as the rays crept up to his companion's face and lit it in just such a way...

"Sounds like the name of a computer program," she said, not noticing his attention, "but… I think I like it. So what about me? How about Sidekick-Some-Ass. That totally rocks, and it means I’ll get to kick tons of ass! Dude! This is cool." She looked at him. "Are you ok?"

Picture Perfect was wiping his nose with the sleeve of his costume.

‘What? Oh yeah. I could probably use some tissues though. Let me go get some."

And with that, he opened the door, and to his great amusement was met by a cascade of candy. Peanut Butter M-Azing bars to be precise. And it looked like his house was full of them.

The End!

Did you see that? No "To be continued..." and we can all breathe a sigh of relief and conclusion. Isn't that a nice word?

posted by Sarah Eliza @ 10:10 AM