Dr. Cupidico's Revenge: A Meh-rathon Compilation (Full Story with bonus gif of all 200 Meh Buttons)
26Scary Rick couldn’t believe they’d put him in with such a loser. Scrawny, short, a real dweeb. And cocky too. The first thing he said when Scary Rick got transferred to the cell was that he needed quiet when he worked. Then, he’d removed a number of vials from a hole cut in his mattress and started mixing stuff together.
How has no one broken this guy? Rick thought to himself.
Well, it didn’t matter why the guy’s previous cell mates had let this kind of behavior slide. None of those cellmates were as big and as scary as Scary Rick, and so it was on him to teach this little jerk some manners.
Problem was, his name wasn’t Smart Rick for a reason. And so he’d taken nearly two whole days stewing on what to say.
Finally, while lifting in the yard, the words came to him, a sudden stroke of imagination, just like those that the poets of yore must’ve experienced. (Though, to be clear, Scary Rick didn’t know the word ‘yore.’ If you’d asked him, he might’ve thought it was something to do with a donkey.)
Here’s what Scary Rick was going to say to the little twerp that kept him up all night clanking beakers and the like together: “Listen up buddy, I think it’s time I kick your ass.” At which point, Scary Rick would kick the little nerd’s ass.
Only, it didn’t go according to plan. After lights out, he got out of his bunk and stood over his cellmate, who was, as usual, working at the makeshift lab in the corner.
“Listen up buddy, I think it’s time I–”
And that’s how far he made it before the guy turned around and, using an eye dropper, squirted something in Scary Rick’s mouth.
“–tell you I love you,” Scary Rick heard himself saying.
What?
And yet, Scary Rick couldn’t deny it. He loved the little guy. Even though he didn’t know his name, he loved him with all of his heart.
“Aww, that’s sweet,” said his cellmate. “But it just can’t work.”
“It can’t?” Scary Rick said.
“Absolutely not,” said his cellmate.
“Why not?” Scary Rick blinked and felt tears forming in his eyes.
“It’s just that, I’ve got a lot of work to do,” the small man said. “And I can’t handle the distraction of a long distance relationship right now?”
“Long distance?” Scary Rick cried. “We’re cellmates!”
“Yes, but only for the next few moments,” said the man.
The comment confused Scary Rick but before he could say as much, an enormous robotic hand smashed through the exterior wall and snatched hold of his cellmate. Alarms rang. Other prisoners called out in panic.
“Well, this is my ride,” the man said, as the arm retracted pulling him out. “Ta ta for now.”
“Good bye,” Scary Rick called. And then in a whisper only he could hear, “I’ll never forget you.”
The robotic arm retracted up through the clouds, into the stealth-copter, a pair of doors sliding closed behind it. In the cargo bay, Sven waited.
“How was my timing, Dr. Cupidico?” Sven asked, unlatching his long-imprisoned boss from the robot hand.
“A minute earlier would’ve been better,” Dr. Cupidico said. “I was in a bit of a bind with my roommate, but no bother. I managed to fend him off with the love potion.”
“Well, sir,” Sven said. “If it were up to me, I would’ve pulled you out of there as soon as you were locked up!”
Dr. Cupidico laughed and patted Sven on the shoulder. “Oh, Sven. How many times do I have to tell you: the longer I stay inside, the more brazen they get. It makes them think they can contain me! Were you to break me out immediately, they’d only find an even more secure prison to put me in next time.”
“There won’t be a next time, sir,” Sven said. “I’ll be sure of it.”
“Yes, yes,” said Dr. Cupidico. “You certainly will. Now, did you get the samples I sent? Of the new potion?”
“Yes,” Sven said. “We used the one bottle for the purpose you outlined, and the other, well, we’ve been in the lab day and night trying to reverse engineer a formula, but alas! No luck!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dr. Cupidico said. “I’ve got a new recipe that is ten times more powerful. Just one jug to the city’s water supply and everyone will fall wildly, stupidly in love with each other! In the ensuing chaos, no one will be able to stop us from taking power!”
“Sir,” Sven said. “I’m just a bit nervous, about them. I know that you say there’s no possible way that–”
“Don’t even say it, Sven,” Dr. Cupidico said. “You did what you were told, yes?”
“Absolutely,” Sven said.
“Then it’s done,” Dr. Cupidico said. “The city will soon be ours. And from there, the world.”
“Come in! Come in! Amazing Cactus, come in! It’s important!”
The voice came in over the radio crackling with static. Or did it just sound that way because of the hangover? Jim Stone, aka the Amazing Cactus, couldn’t tell.
“Hey man, you mind landing this thing?” said another voice.
“Yeah dude, we gotta get to work,” said another.
Jim Stone rolled over on his cot, crushing an empty pizza box in the process. He opened his eyes to see two men, one with a big bushy beard, the other with an elaborate neck tattoo.
“Who are you?” Jim asked.
“We were at the bar last night,” said the bearded one.
“When they closed, you invited us in here to party some more,” said the tattooed one.
“Huh,” Jim said. He got up and pushed past them, and sat down in the pilots seat. “Where was the bar?”
“Topeka,” one of the guys said.
They were about five hundred miles from there, but it didn’t matter, not with the warp speed he’d finally installed. Sheryl would’ve loved the warp speed, Jim thought, but shook his head, banishing the thought. Sheryl had left him for a semi-professional table tennis player five months ago. She’d made her choice.
He dialed in a few digits and the Zeppelin leapt forward what felt like an inch.
“What was that?” one of the guys asked.
“We’re here,” Jim said, piloting the Zeppelin down to the parking lot and turning on the cloaking device so no one would see it land.
When they touched down, he toggled a few switches and the door opened, lowering the stairs to the asphalt below.
“Awesome, thanks man,” said the bearded guy.
“Yeah, I’ve never partied in a Zeppelin before,” said the guy with the tattoos.
But neither of them made to leave.
“What?” Jim said. He couldn’t read the expressions on their faces. He could barely make out the details. His head was throbbing. Whatever was going on right now, he wanted to be done with it.
“Well, you know, if you fly around in a giant green Zeppelin that turns invisible, that can only mean one thing,” said the bearded guy. “You’re the Amazing Cactus.”
“Also, you told us,” said the tattooed guy. “Like you kept shouting it at the top of your lungs every time you did a shot last night.”
“Dammit,” Jim muttered.
“We’ll totally keep it a secret,” said the bearded guy.
Jim massaged his temples. “Thanks guys, I appreciate it.”
“For a price,” said the tattooed guy.
Jim went to grab his wallet, although it really didn’t matter who they told. Without Sheryl, it wasn’t like he would be fighting crime any time soon
Sure, nothing had technically changed. It was not like Sheryl leaving him had reversed the results of the experiment. That was before the two of them even met.
Back then, he was merely a renegade assistant professor of horticulture at West South State University. He’d designed a machine that used lasers in order to extract a plant’s essence, the undetectable yet definitive coda of what made them unique. Only, as he ran the first test on a common cactus, the machine started to rumble. Before he could get out of the room, it exploded, imbuing him with the essence of the cactus.
He could stand extremely still. He could make himself appear like a cactus. He could live without water for months. And, most importantly, he could sprout sharp spines from his skin when threatened.
Of course, the events of the day were seared into his mind forever. But how he felt had shifted back and forth and finally back again.
At first, it seemed like the worst day of his life.
Then, he met Sheryl and while they were together, it started to seem like, if not the best day, then the beginning of his journey towards true happiness. After all, if he didn’t have any powers, she, Coyote Woman, never would’ve agreed to team up with him to form an unstoppable vaguely Southwestern superhero duo.
And they never would’ve fallen in love.
Now that she was gone, he was back to thinking of his powers like a curse again.
“Hey, Stanley,” Jim Stone said into the radio. “What can I help you with?”
“Turn on the news, right now!” came Stanley’s response.
Jim couldn’t find the remote under all the stained burrito wrappers and empty tall boys strewn around the area of the Zeppelin he’d converted to living quarters–Sheryl had kept the house they shared–so he walked over to the TV and turned it on.
The volume was muted but the text at the bottom of the screen read: PRISON BREAK! TWO INMATES ESCAPE!
“Yikes,” Jim said into the radio’s mouthpiece. “But it’s nothing the local authorities can’t handle.”
“Oh is that right?” Stanley said over the radio. “What if I told you one of those inmates is another former academic, just like you.”
“You can’t possibly mean–” Jim said.
“That’s right,” Stanley said. “Dr. Cupidico is on the loose again.”
The words cut straight through Jim’s hangover. “Stanley, stay where you are. I’ll be right there.”
“Jeez, when’s the last time you showered, Jim?” Stanley said when Jim showed up at the lab.
“Water tank in the Zeppelin’s on the fritz,” Jim said. “And I haven’t gotten it fixed because, well, you know, not super water-reliant with the whole cactus thing.”
Stanley shook his head. “Well, let’s just get straight to it. I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. Which do you want first?”
“The bad news,” Jim said.
Stanley sighed. “It actually works better if I tell you the good news first. In terms of narrative.”
“Okay,” Jim said. “Then why’d you ask?”
“It seemed like the right thing to do,” Stanley said. “Anyway, the good news: I was able to sneak into Doctor Cupidico’s former cell disguised as a detective. He’d left some vials and things behind, and I took some samples.”
“Great,” Jim said.
“No, Jim,” Stanley said. “Not great. That actually brings us to the bad news. Take a look at this.”
Stanley led Jim to a microscope in the corner. Jim looked in and saw what appeared to be two tiny blobs.
“What you see,” said Stanley, “are two single-cell organisms. Now, I have a drop of the chemical I found in Dr. Cupidico’s makeshift prison lab. I’m going to put it into the slide.”
“Jeez!” Jim said. “They’re trying to kill each other!”
“No,” said Stanley. “They’re not.”
“They’re not, then what do you call-- Oh, wait are they actually-- Oh jeez, what the hell? Is that natural? I think I’m going to be sick!”
Jim stepped away from the microscope, a sour expression on his face.
“That’s right,” Stanley said. “They’re not trying to kill each other. They’re madly, violently in love.”
“So, more of the same for Dr. Cupidico,” Jim said.
“Only, this is two-hundred times more powerful than any of his previous love potions,” Stanley said. “Just a few drops of this stuff and people will fall head-over-heels in love with the nearest fence post. And, this part is important: its effect cannot be diluted with water.”
“You mean–” Jim said.
“That’s right,” Stanley said. “I have reason to believe Dr. Cupidico plans to taint the city’s water supply with this love potion, thus sending people into wild, chaotic love, allowing him to take over the city, and eventually the world.”
“Okay, the first part I get, because of the water dilution thing,” Jim said. “But the rest seems like a pretty drastic conclusion.”
Stanley shrugged. “He’s tried to do the same thing, like, twenty times.”
“But I imagine you’re already working on an antidote,” Jim said.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough to really analyze,” Stanley said. “Plus, I just used the last drops to show you the weird cell-sex thing.”
“What?” Jim said. “I would’ve believed you! You didn’t have to waste it!”
“I refuse to be the only one who had to see that!” Stanley said, pointing to the microscope. “But it doesn’t matter. We need to assemble a team, infiltrate Dr. Cupidico’s stealth-copter, get our hands on a sample before it’s too late. Which means you need to get in touch with Sheryl.”
“What?” Jim said. “Why?”
“C’mon, Jim,” Stanley said. “I went to your birthday party last year. It was just me and you.”
“What are you trying to say?” Jim said.
“I’m saying, I know who ended up with most of the friends after the breakup,” Stanley said.
“I still talk to The Great Flame all the time,” Jim offered.
Stanley crossed his arms. “All the time?”
Jim looked at his feet. “Fine, we text when there’s a game on.”
“Look, Jim,” Stanley said. “I would’ve called Sheryl myself, but I haven’t been in touch with her. I think this can be good for you. Just because you two broke up and she’s dating a professional table tennis player, doesn’t mean you have to be so petty. You can still be a good team.”
“Okay, first off, Gary’s semi-professional at best,” Jim said.
“This is what I mean about petty,” Stanley said.
“Ugh, fine! But have you even met Gary?” Jim said.
Stanley shook his head.
“Well, he sucks,” Jim said.
“Jim,” Stanley said.
“No, I’m serious,” Jim said. “He really, really sucks. You’ll see.”
Just then, they heard a crash outside.
Rushing out the door, they found two cars had collided on the street in front of the lab.
“Hey!” said one driver, stepping out.
“Hey what?” said the other driver.
“Whoa whoa, let’s all calm down,” Jim said, ready to step between them.
But the two drivers didn’t raise fists. Instead, they embraced each other tightly, and then started making out.
“Oh no,” Stanley said. “It might already be too late!”
“Quick, to the Zeppelin!” Jim said. “Much as it hurts, I can admit: we need to get to Sheryl!”
They landed the Zeppelin in the backyard of the suburban home Sheryl had once shared with Jim, turning on the cloaking device before they got out.
“How’s it hangin’ my bros,” said Gary, answering the door. He wore an Aéropostale shirt and Under Armour athletic shorts. On his forehead, a pair of knock-off Oakley sunglasses. “You guys here for beer pong and movie night? I just invite everyone on my Facebook friends list, so I never know who’s gonna show up.”
Jim and Stanley looked at each other. “No. We’re here to see Sheryl,” Stanley said.
“Oh, cool,” Gary said. “She’s a little busy right now. I lost my table tennis sponsorship with Monster.”
“The job site or the energy drink?” Jim asked.
“I don’t know! As long as they cut the checks, you know what I mean? Which they’re not doing any more on account of some things I Tweeted. Can’t say anything these days, right?”
“What does this have to do with Sheryl?” Stanley asked.
“Oh, well, she’s gotta unstitch all the Monster patches from my table tennis playing shirts. If you want, I can start the movie for movie night early while she finishes up. It’s Wild Things. You ever see that? Some crazy stuff happens in it!”
Jim pushed past him and rushed into the laundry room, knowing the layout of the house by heart. “Sheryl!” he called. “Sheryl, don’t drink the water!”
Sheryl sat at her sewing machine, a pile of shirts on the floor next to her.
“Oh, Jim,” Sheryl said, standing up. “What are you doing here? You’re not going to sing me one of those songs again?”
“Songs?” Stanley said, coming in behind him.
“Or do that interpretive dance of love again,” Sheryl said.
“Interpretive dance of love?!” Stanley said.
“I was going through some stuff,” said Jim to Stanley. He turned back to Sheryl. “Look, that’s not what’s important here. Dr. Cupidico’s out of prison, Sheryl. I know we’re not a couple anymore, but we need to team up and stop him. First, though, tell me you haven’t had any water in the last hour.”
“I’ve had plenty of water,” Sheryl said.
Stanley and Jim Stone exchanged a confused glance. She certainly didn’t look as though she’d been driven mad by love.
“Really?” Jim said.
Sheryl picked up a plastic water bottle and shook it as a show of evidence.
Stanley sighed with relief. “So you haven’t had a drink of water from the faucet.”
“No, silly,” Sheryl said. “Gary doesn’t like tap water. So we buy bottled water.”
“That’s such a waste of money,” Jim muttered.
“Well, Gary says with the money we’ve saved by cancelling the city recycling–”
“Wait, where do you put the bottles?” Jim said.
“We throw them away,” Sheryl said. “Gary told me there’s no such thing as recycling.”
“Okay, you know what,” Stanley said. “On our way over here, Jim said that Gary is the worst–”
“Jim!” Sheryl cried.
Jim Stone looked down at the ground. He couldn’t look her in the eye, out of shame, yes, but also because it hurt too much.
“And honestly,” Stanley said, “he’s right.”
“What?” Sheryl said.
“Sheryl,” Stanley said, “you’re a former award-winning nature photographer who tried to photograph a wild coyote in the desert under a strange never explained light pattern that looked like the aurora borealis on steroids, thus somehow endowing you with the ability to transform into a coyote at will. I know it sounds like basic jealousy when Jim says it, but you have to believe me, your old nerdy friend who fills a vaguely administrative-slash-science-y role in your team of superheroes: Gary is quite honestly the worst dude I’ve ever met. Like, seriously, what do you like about this guy?”
“There’s just something,” Sheryl said. “We’re meant to be together, that’s all.”
“But, like, how did you meet?” Stanley said.
“I remember it like it was yesterday,” Sheryl said, looking off into the distance. “I stepped out onto the front porch to see who’d delivered the mouthwash sample, and there he was, across the street, taking a box from the neighbor’s house.”
“He’s a porch pirate too?” Jim said.
“Look, Jim, I loved you for a long time,” Sheryl said. “But you’re also just so predictable.”
“I literally sprout cactus spines out of my skin!” Jim cried.
“See I knew you were going to say that,” Sheryl said.
Stanley stood scratching his head. “Could you go back just a minute? You said something about a mouthwash sample?”
“Oh, yes,” Sheryl said. “It was very odd! I received a vial that day of a mouthwash sample. As you know, one side effect of the coyote DNA fusing with mine is that I sometimes have strange animal-like breath, so I’m always looking for a solution.”
I always loved her animal breath, Jim thought.
“So, of course, when I got a new one, I tried it right away,” Sheryl continued. “But it didn’t have any flavor at all! Then, I noticed the envelope it came in had no return address or postage. So someone must’ve dropped it off. When I stepped outside, a car with tinted windows sped away.”
“And you didn’t think any of this was suspicious?” Stanley said.
“More like serendipitous,” Sheryl said, sighing. “Because at that moment, I met the love of my life!”
Jim and Stanley looked at each other. “Sheryl, do you have that vial still?” Stanley said.
In the bathroom, Sheryl pulled out a large plastic tote from under the sink. “This is where I keep all my mouthwashes. Few have worked, but I never throw them away, just in case! Here’s the one I got that day.”
“We need to get this to a lab for analysis,” Stanley said. “You still have a temporary set up in the Zeppelin?”
Sheryl looked around the Zeppelin aghast. “Jeez, Jim,” she muttered.
“I just need to do a little spring cleaning is all,” Jim said, unable to meet her eyes.
Stanley dropped a few drops from the vial onto a slide and then slid it under the microscope.
“It’s just as I thought,” he said. “Sheryl, you’ve been poisoned! With one of Doctor Cupidico’s love potions. This one’s not nearly as strong as the new one, but it’s strong enough!”
“Now, that’s unfair,” Sheryl said. “I know Gary isn’t everyone’s favorite kind of guy–”
But Stanley was already rooting around through the chemicals. “If I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing… A little bit of this… A drop of that…” He held up a small beaker. “Sheryl, drink this!”
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PANS! GLANDS! CRAYONS! AWESOME!
Part 2
“What is it?” Sheryl said.
“The antidote,” Stanley said.
“I told you, it’s real love!” Sheryl cried.
“Okay, it’s a mouthwash sample,” Jim said.
“But he just said–” Sheryl said, crossing her arms.
“The antidote to your breath issues,” Stanley said. “Is what I meant.”
Skeptical, Sheryl took a sip.
“Doesn’t taste like anything,” Sheryl said.
“Sher-bear? Where are you?” came a voice from outside. “My shirts aren’t done!”
Stanley turned to Jim. “We’ll have to test if it works. Turn off the cloaking device.”
“I don’t want that guy in here,” Jim said.
“Jim,” Stanley said.
Jim sighed. “Okay, fine.” He went to the control panels and toggled a few buttons, turning off the cloaking device and opening the door.
Gary wandered in, amazed. “Whoa, dope pad,” he said. “But what is this thing? Some kind of blimp?”
“It’s a Zeppelin,” Jim said.
“What? You mean like the band that sounds like Greta Van Fleet?” Gary said.
Sheryl stood massaging her temples. “Why are you talking like that?”
“Like what?” Gary said.
“With that super annoying voice!” Sheryl cried.
“What? You always say you love my voice!” Gary said.
“Ugh! It just keeps getting worse!” Sheryl said.
“Look, babe, let’s not fight, okay?” Gary said. “People are going to be over to watch Wild Things in, like, two hours, and I need at least that much time to torrent it on the dial-up.”
“Wild Things?” Sheryl said.
“Look, babe, we can’t always watch artsy movies like Boondock Saints, okay?” Gary said.
“Get out of here!” Sheryl said. “Get away from me!”
“But–” Gary started to say.
“I said get away!” Sheryl screamed.
“Chicks, amirite?” Gary said, putting his hand on Jim Stone’s shoulder. But just as quickly he pulled it away. “Ow! Shit! What was that?”
The spines quickly retreated under The Amazing Cactus’s skin. “I think the lady told you to leave,” Jim said.
When Gary was out of the Zeppelin, Jim turned to Stanley. “Will it work? The antidote for this potion? Will it work for the new one?”
“I hope so,” Stanley said. “But also, I’ll double everything to account for the extra power of the new variant.”
“Great,” Jim said. “Sheryl, you okay?”
“I wasted years of my life with that dingus,” Sheryl said.
“Well, good news,” Jim said. “We’re gonna go have a chat with the man behind it all. Strap in!”
With that, they took off for city center.
The mayor was having a hard time. The entire city was a fiery ball of chaotic passion. He needed to act, needed to do something to get things in order.
It used to be, in times of stress like this, he might have a big tall glass of soda, but he’d been challenged by a group of concerned mothers to quit the sugar water, a challenge he’d taken on because there was an election right around the corner, and such simple public theatrics went a long way in endearing one to the voting populous. A mentor had told him that once: it wasn’t about legislation in an election year; it was about potholes and publicity stunts.
And so, he’d done a press conference and sworn an oath. He would drink nothing but water or black coffee for a month. And even then, he kept himself to one cup of coffee each morning before he left for city hall. Truly, he’d felt the effects on his body. He didn’t feel as bloated as he used to, seemed to have more energy, suffered from fewer headaches.
And so when the chaos had started, he’d barricaded himself in his office with nothing but a tall glass of iced water. Only now, he felt positively H2O-drunk. Because he couldn’t focus on the task at hand.
Instead, he stared at the jade plant in his office, a gift from his daughter. “They can live for a really long time, if you take care of them,” she’d said. And he’d smiled and said, “Sure, sweetie,” and then promptly gave his assistant the job of tending to it.
But that would end, starting today.
Nobody else would ever lay a hand on his jade plant. He and he alone would be its caretaker from now on. He and he alone would ensure the well-being of its strong tree-like stem and its voluptuous… would you call them leaves? They didn’t seem like leaves. They weren’t so delicate.
Oh, what research he had to do! How much water did it need? What kind of temperature did the plant like? What kind of music would it enjoy? Where would it like to go on vacation?
The mayor moved to scratch his neck and found his collar stained with sweat. Was it just him or was it getting hot in here? He’d better go adjust the thermostat. That such a trip across the room would allow him a detour to run his hands through the jade’s whatever-those-bulbous-leaf-like-things-were-called was a nice bonus.
Only, he was a few steps from the plant when the doors to his office exploded open.
Without thinking, he jumped to shield the jade.
“Don’t you touch it!” the mayor called out. “Take me instead!”
“What?” came a voice behind him.
The mayor turned slowly. As the smoke from the small explosion settled, a man came into view. He wore goggles and welded a large strange weapon.
“Dr. Cupidico!” whispered the mayor. How could he be so stupid! A prison break in the morning at the prison where the deranged madman had been held, and now, the streets were alive with wild passion. It all made sense.
“How are you feeling, Mr. Mayor?” Dr. Cupidico. He motioned to the glass of iced water on his desk. “Glad to see you’re staying hydrated.”
“Oh, yes,” the mayor stammered, trying to remain calm. “And I’ve been feeling… uhh… okay? Why? Am I not supposed to be?”
“Have you fallen in love with anyone this morning?” Dr. Cupidico asked.
The mayor glanced at the jade out of the corner of his eye. He needed to protect the plant, but he also didn’t want to hurt its feelings by claiming lovelessness.
“With anyone?” the mayor repeated. “No, in fact. I would not say I’ve fallen in love with… any… person… this morning. Not a single person.”
“You seem to be sweating,” Dr. Cupidico. said.
“Yes,” said the mayor. “I was just going to adjust the thermostat.”
Dr. Cupidico looked around the room and saw the thermostat on the opposite wall.
“I’m still getting used to the office,” the mayor explained.
“It’s your fifth term,” Dr. Cupidico countered.
“Well, you know what they say,” the mayor said. “Time flies when you’re being mayor.”
“I can’t say I’m familiar,” said Dr. Cupidico. “But I will be soon.”
“What?” the mayor said. “You’re going to run?”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Dr. Cupidico. “I think I might just take the position, you know. Make some changes here and there. Like the official title, for example. ‘Mayor’ is so weak. I’m more partial to… ‘Ruler of the City.’ But enough about that. All this talk of running has gotten me thinking: isn’t about time that you run along?” Dr. Cupidico raised his weapon. “Now!”
“Wait!” cried the mayor. “At least let me grab one thing!”
Dr. Cupidico sighed. “Fine. Go ahead.”
The mayor picked up the jade plant in front of him. “Okay, it’s all yours.”
Dr. Cupidico cocked his head. “You don’t want to grab that photo of your family on the desk?”
“Who?” the mayor said. “Oh, yeah, them. No, that’s cool. You can keep that, I don’t mind. Good luck with everything Mr. May-- I mean, Mr. Ruler of the City.”
The mayor nearly bumped into Sven coming in through the door behind Dr. Cupidico.
“The rest of city hall is secure, sir,” Sven said, watching the mayor retreat. “Phase one is complete. Shall I start on phase two? The jets are loaded and ready to spray every major city with the love potion. Just say the word.”
“Oh, Sven!” Dr. Cupidico said. “What’s the point of being a super villain if I can’t enjoy the fruits of my labor? Come, let’s have a look.”
The two of them stepped to the window and watched the chaos unfold outside. Screams of love echoed from everywhere. Cars swerved and crashed into fire hydrants, trying to avoid couples rushing to embrace each other in the middle of the road, though by now, many had proceeded far past the simple hug and kiss.
Weaving through it all, a very agile dog.
Only, wait, was that a dog?
“What kind of dog is that?” Dr. Cupidico asked.
“Here, I have an app,” Sven said.
“An app,” Dr. Cupidico repeated.
“You take a photo of the dog and it tells you what the breed is, and also if it’s likely to be friendly,” Sven said, handing Dr. Cupidico his phone.
“It’s asking for your password,” Dr. Cupidico.
“Oh, let me put that in,” Sven said reaching for his phone again.
Dr. Cupidico pulled it away. “Just tell me your password.”
“I… uhhh…” Sven stammered.
“The dog’s getting away,” Dr. Cupidico said.
“Okay, fine.” Sven gulped. “The password is ‘Sven,’ then the number fifteen, then the word ‘the,’ then the letter r, three-four, the letter l, the letter b, the letter r, four, one, the letter n, five.”
“What? Why so long?” Dr.Cupidico said. He handed Sven his phone back. “Never mind, you put it in.”
Sven took a deep relieved breath, quickly typed in his password–Sven15ther34lbr41n5–and then handed it back to Dr. Cupidico, who zoomed in and snapped a picture of the strange wild-looking dog.
The app responded immediately: ‘American wild coyote; proceed with caution.’
Proceed with caution was right.
“Call the jets,” Dr. Cupidico cried. “NOW!”
Sven took the phone back and quickly dialed the number. “Phase two is a go!” he said. Then, the expression on his face dropped. “What do you mean? How many? All of them?!”
“Did they see who it was that attacked?” Dr. Cupidico asked.
Sven nodded, going pale.
“Let me take a guess,” Dr. Cupidico said. “It was a Zeppelin. A Zeppelin painted green to look like a cactus that fired massive spines, piercing the planes’ fuel tanks.”
Sven nodded again.
“You said you took care of this,” Dr. Cupidico hissed.
“I thought I did,” Sven said.
“I need to get out there,” Dr. Cupidico said.
“It’s too chaotic,” Sven said. “Let me send the task force.”
Dr. Cupidico sighed. “Fine. But if they mess this up…”
“They won’t,” Sven said.
The ten members of Sven’s special task force were among the most heartbroken men and women in the world. At least five of them had been dumped by the people they thought to be their soulmates via TikTok video. They could be deployed in a high passion area with no fear of their senses being overwhelmed or their cold hearts thawing.
They stepped out now, in their all-pink bodysuits.
“Why do we have to wear these things?” said one of them.
“It’s branding,” said another.
“Branding?” said the first one.
“You know: pink? Color of love? Cupid?” said a third member of the task force.
“What does Cupid have to do with this?” said the first.
“Dr. Cupidico,” said another member.
“Holy shit,” said the first member. “I didn’t even realize that until now!”
All around, the streets throbbed with terrifying passion, but their gazes remained icy and direct. They had trained for this for years.
“Stay calm everyone,” said the team leader, getting them into a huddle. “And keep your eyes out for–”
But just then, he was tackled by a wild coyote.
“Holy crap!” cried a member of the task force.
“I’m afraid of dogs!” cried one member of the task force.
“Me too!” cried another.
“Same!” cried a third.
“I’m also afraid of dogs!” cried a fourth.
“See, I’m not exactly afraid of dogs!” cried a fifth. “However, this one, being as it is essentially a wild animal, is very scary to me!”
Up in the mayor’s office, Sven watched as five of the ten members of the task force sprinted away, disappearing into the fracas of love.
“What happened there?” Dr. Cupidico called.
Sven scrolled through their files on his phone. “It appears many of them suffered from an extreme fear of dogs,” he said.
“You couldn’t find any that weren’t afraid of dogs?” Dr. Cupidico asked.
“It didn’t strike me as necessary,” Sven said.
Back on the street, the members of the task force raised their miniature heart-melt-rays but none could get a clean shot. All would hit the task force leader.
“Get that coyote off,” said another member of the task force, “So he can finish telling us what to be on the lookout for!”
Just then, the coyote leapt away.
The task force leader groaned.
“Sir, I know you’re hurt,” said a member of the task force, “but what was it you wanted us to be on the lookout for?”
“Coyote,” grumbled the task force leader.
“Yes, we know a coyote attacked you,” said a task force member. “But what are we on the lookout for?!”
“Coyote,” grumbled the task force leader again.
“Okay, let’s all give him some air,” said a member of the task force. “He’s clearly a bit shaken up by that fluke coyote attack.”
“Coyote!” Sven called out from the open window of the mayor’s office.
The task force saw him yelling, but struggled to hear him over the wild noises of chaotic passion all around them.
“What?” one of them called back.
“The coyote!” Sven screamed again.
“Yeah, we saw it!” called back a member of the task force.
“Go after it!” Sven called.
“Did he just say go after the coyote?” said one member of the task force to another. “That seems really short-sighted. We can’t get distracted. We need to keep our heads in the game.”
“Look,” said another member of the task force, kneeling next to the wounded task force leader, “I think we’re all a little out of it. It’s probably dehydration.”
“But what are we supposed to do?” said another member of the task force. “They told us not to drink water from the tap! And then the water cooler in city hall was empty!”
“Hey, look there!” One of the members of the task force pointed to a peculiar site on the corner of the street. “It’s a cactus. Don’t those things have water in them?”
“Great idea,” said another member of the task force. “We’ll go over there, drain that cactus, and then we’ll feel better, which’ll make planning what to do easier.”
Up in the mayor’s office, Dr. Cupidico looked on as the task force rushed the cactus. Several times they nearly tripped on couples rolling naked through the streets, but eventually they were upon it.
“Well, it’s not the coyote, but at least they seem to know what to do,” he said.
“I told you, they’re the best,” Sven said.
“How do I lay into this thing?” Asked one of the members of the task force once they had it surrounded.
“You don’t,” said the cactus, or what had been the cactus but was now a man. “It lays into you.”
“Wha–”
POW!
SMACK!
BANG!
POKE!
Jim Stone, in his full Amazing Cactus suit stood on the curb, the members of Dr. Cupidico’s task force splayed out on the ground around him.
“Well, that was easier than I expected,” he said to a passing coyote who stopped and morphed into a woman in a coyote superhero costume.
“A little too easy if you ask me,” Sheryl said. She lifted her wrist and talked into a small radio. “Stanley, they’re dispatched. Commence the spray.”
Above them in the sky, a giant green Zeppelin emerged from nowhere, its cloaking device having been switched off. If anyone on the ground had been looking up, they would’ve gasped. As it were, those cavorting in the streets only had eyes for each other, and the gasps that escaped their mouths were of a different variety.
“Antidote locked and loaded,” came Stanley’s voice over the wrist radio. “Spraying to commence in three, two, one–”
Just then a bright ray shot up into the sky, puncturing the Zeppelin’s walls.
“Oh, no!” cried Stanley’s voice. “I’m going down!”
“Stanley, bail!” Sheryl cried.
Above them, the trap door on the bottom of the Zeppelin opened and a tiny figure emerged, parachuting out into the chaos.
“Well, well, well,” came a voice that seemed to cut through the moans and cries around them.
The Amazing Cactus and Coyote Woman turned, finding themselves face-to-face with their longtime enemy.
“Dr. Cupidico,” the Amazing Cactus said.
“Not surprised to see you here,” Coyote Woman said.
“That’s funny, because I’m surprised to see you,” Dr. Cupidico said, his enormous weapon raised and at the ready. “I thought I could drive a wedge between you two, and then take over the world while one of you wallowed in self-despair and the other spent the rest of your life in a relationship with the first deadbeat lowlife who crossed your path.”
“Well, bad news for you,” Coyote Woman said.
“Yeah,” said the Amazing Cactus. “Very bad news, because we’re–”
And then they both spoke at the same time, but finished the sentence in entirely different ways: he said, “getting back together,” while she said, “seeing how things go.”
“Seeing how things go?” said the Amazing Cactus, his voice cracking and his eyes filling with tears.
“Not now, Jim,” whispered Coyote Woman.
“But, it was a love potion!” cried the Amazing Cactus. “You never really loved Gary!”
“It’s not all about Gary,” said Coyote Woman. “Sure, I never would’ve fell for him without that vial. But things weren’t always perfect between us. There were… issues.”
“Is this about me not filling up the Brita when I saw it was clearly empty?” the Amazing Cactus said. “Because I told you, I have cactus DNA! I just don’t think about water very much!”
“I’m not talking about the Brita,” Coyote Woman said. “It was more than that. When we were together it was always us: the Amazing Cactus and Coyote Woman, the perfect vaguely Southwestern superhero duo. But there were times when I wanted to do something for me.”
“You can do whatever you want!” cried the amazing cactus.
“Sure, you say that now. But what about you?” Coyote Woman asked. “Will you ever do anything for you, Jim? I mean, just look how you’ve let yourself go after the breakup! I can’t feel responsible for someone who can’t take care of himself.”
“Wow,” the Amazing Cactus said.
“I’m sorry,” Coyote Woman said. “That was harsh.”
“No,” said the Amazing Cactus. “It was harsh but fair.”
“Ahem,” said Dr. Cupidico. “I have good news and bad news for you. The good news: you’ll soon feel nothing but love for each other. The bad news: it’ll be the last thing you feel… before you die.”
Instinctively, the Amazing Cactus and Coyote Woman embraced each other in fear.
“Ow,” Coyote Woman said, pulling one of her hands away.
“Sorry,” said the Amazing Cactus, the spine retracting into his back. “I’m a little rusty.”
“This weapon is called the Heart Melter,” Dr. Cupidico said. “Do you know why? Because it shoots a ray of love…”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” said the Amazing Cactus.
“…a ray of love so strong it will literally melt your heart,” Dr. Cupidico continued.
“Oh,” said the Amazing Cactus.
“Say goodbye, lovebirds,” Dr. Cupidico said, raising the weapon. But, just before he could pull the trigger, an enormous terrifying man in an orange jumpsuit emerged from the writhing crowd of revelers all around them and tackled the evil mastermind, knocking the Heart Melter from his grip.
“Oww!” cried Dr. Cupidico. “What is the meaning of thi-- Wait, you?!”
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” cried Scary Rick, his eyes filling with tears of joy.
The Amazing Cactus and Coyote Woman didn’t hesitate. She rushed and secured the weapon, while he wrestled the bad Doctor from the man’s grip and applied a pair of cactus cuffs.
Just then, they heard a whooshing sound. All four of them–the two super heroes, the super villain, and the escaped inmate–looked to the sky, watching a stealth-copter take off from the roof of city hall.
“Sven’s leaving me behind,” Dr. Cupidico said. “Again.”
The stealth-copter disappeared into the clouds which were rapidly darkening. Just then, it started to rain–first a light drizzle that caused the lustful crowds to quiet slightly, then a full-blown downpour. Amazingly, the many pairs of lovers did not disperse. Nor did they continue cavorting all over the city. Instead they stood up and looked around, confused.
“It’s like they’re cured,” Coyote Woman said.
“They are,” came a voice behind them. The bunch of them turned.
Part 3
“Stanley!” the two superheroes cried in unison. The Amazing Cactus quickly tied Dr. Cupidico to a nearby telephone pole, now that his orange-garbed friend seemed entirely disinterested in him. Then, the three of them–Sheryl, Jim, and Stanley–came in for a group hug.
“We’re glad you’re alive,” Sheryl said.
“As am I!” Stanley said. “What’s more, from where I landed, I was able to see the Zeppelin get caught up in a bizarre wind pattern, which ended up sending it further up into the atmosphere, where it exploded, seeding these storm clouds with antidote!”
“Wow, that really resolves things,” said Coyote Woman. “And in an entirely scientifically-sound way too!”
“So, I bet you two have a lot of celebrating to do,” Stanley said. “Saving the world, and back together!”
“Uhh…” said Coyote Woman.
“I was actually thinking that I might–” the Amazing Cactus looked down at his phone. “–take a hot bath with a glass of wine and a good book.”
“Are you reading an article about what people do by themselves?” Stanley said.
“No!” the Amazing Cactus said, slipping his phone back into the pocket of costume.
“Hey, we can work on this,” Sheryl said. “Together.”
“Really?” Jim said.
“Really,” Sheryl said, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. Then, just as quickly she pulled her hand away. “Dammit! That one really hurt.”
“I’m really sorry,” Jim said, the spine retracting under his skin. “I’ve been alone for a while.”
Sorry that took so long. Optimizing for the character count was harder than I thought. I uploaded the GIF to Imgur solely for the character savings in the URL.
What in the fresh hell was that wall of texts? (Yes, you used proper paragraphing–at least I think, ain’t nobody got time for that.)
Are you on meth? Applying for a job at the site? That is absolute insanity that you wrote all that.
@KNmeh7 This was the story told throughout the mehraton
@ELUNO @KNmeh7 I think someone missed a Meh-rathon.
Well done and thank you! Especially after seeing bizarre and random bits over the last day, seeing the whole thing together was a lot of fun
All hail!! Thank you so much. Every mehrathon deserves this treatment, thank you for your service
Thank you.
That was wonderful thanks for posting!
Thank you for posting that! I was trapped in work so only saw one quick installment so now I feel like I’d been there, but without the no-irk frustration and a bunch of things I really did not need to buy …
@stolicat same
Tldr
@Enigma Might I suggest spreading it into 200 pieces over the course of 24 hours?
How did I miss this???
thank you so much for posting this!!
151: Weaving through it all, a very agile dog.
This was the excerpt from the IRK I won and I’ll never forget it. I’ll quote it whenever possible, and I pass it on to my children as a family credo whom will pass it on to theirs and so-on and so forth forever and for eternity. Amen.