LNH 'Tsk' Force #4: "Psychic Enemies Network"

Starring: Irony Man, Bandwagon Chick, and No Sense of Direction Man

with: Contraption Man and Renegade Programmer

Special Guest Villains: Mrs. San Simeon and the Really Real Psychics

and introducing: Kid Unique

* * * * * *

Irony Man was impressed. It had taken several weeks and cost the Stork Foundation several hundred thousand dollars, but Contraption Man had finally transformed a dreary subbasement in the Legion's headquarters into a state-of-the-art 'Tsk' Force Command Center. He inhaled deeply, savoring the unique smell of new high-tech equipment. The last two weeks of his shift as 'Tsk' Force leader might turn out all right.

"Okay, we're just about set," Contraption Man told him, looking up from the main control console. "I'll hook you into the communications network, have Todd fill out these warranty registration cards, and that should be that."

"Good. I've got to assemble a 'Tsk' Force for a mission this afternoon. How do I do that?"

"It's easy." The genius gadgeteer from the future indicated a keyboard and mouse at the console. "This screen has all the LNH dossiers, indexed by name, powers, status, and current assignment. You can scroll through the list using the mouse, or search for somebody with a certain power, or whatever. Then you just click on their name and they get a message on their Legion communicator thingy."

"Okay, so if I want a psychic, somebody with underworld contacts and a cat burglar . . .?" Irony Man sat down and studied the console display.

"Just click here, and here, then go into the File/Options menu and turn on 'Available Heroes Only' and then hit 'Search.'" As he spoke, the armored net.Hero followed along, typing commands as instructed. "See? Easy." A list of names appeared on the screen.

Irony Man quickly selected three names from the list. "Brain Boy is a psychic and Former Villain Girl has underworld contacts. Was Convoluted Origin Man a cat burglar?"

"For a while. That's how he got the Gem of Intensity. You remember, that's back when he could fly through outer space and eat anything without gaining weight?"

"Right. Anyway, I can just click on this to summon them to the Command Center, right?"

"That's the idea."

* * * * * *

"You wanted to see us, Irony Man?"

"Yes, come in. I--," Irony Man stopped suddenly. Standing in the doorway were Bandwagon Chick, No Sense of Direction Man and a teen-aged boy in a purple and green body glove, with his hair dyed to match. Irony Man recognized the youngster as the newest LNH member, Kid Unique. "I actually sent for three different people." He turned to Contraption Man. "What happened?"

"Must be a bug. I'll get Renegade Programmer down here to work on it. Do you want me to have someone round up your original team while I'm at it?"

"No, that's all right. I've worked with this group before, more or less. Just get it fixed." He turned back to the assembled heroes. "Sorry about that. Anyway, our assignment is to put a stop to this." He popped a tape into a VCR on the desk.

A swirling mass of zodiacal symbols appeared on the screen, with an unseen narrator asking, "Are you tired of wasting your money on phony TV psychics? Then call the Really Real Psychics. Just hear what this satisfied customer has to say."

The odd display was replaced by footage of a young woman saying "I didn't think the Really Real Psychics were really real, until I called. Now I'm convinced. The Really Real Psychics ARE really real."

Her image in turn was replaced by a heavyset middle-aged woman with long, curly white hair and too much jewelry. "Hello," she said with a huge smile, "I'm Mrs. San Simeon. My Really Real Psychics really are really real. To prove it, here's an actual first-time caller."

"Hello," an unseen male voice said, "Is this Mrs. San Simeon?"

"Yes, it is," she said. "Are you calling because you have a problem of some kind?"

"Yes I am! That's amazing! How could you know that?" the caller asked.

"I am a psychic, you know."

"Wow! The Really Real Psychics really are even more really real than I thought!"

Mrs. San Simeon addressed the camera again. "You, too, can be convinced just like this man. Call today and get thirty free minutes for only $100 a minute." A phone number appeared on the screen, accompanied by an incomprehensible mass of tiny, tiny print. Irony Man stopped the tape.

"You've all seen these ads. These women don't have any real psychic powers, as near as we can tell. And since only incredibly stupid people call those numbers in the first place, we're not terribly concerned about protecting their customers from fraud. We just don't want to have to see these annoying commercials any more."

"Do you have a plan?" No Sense of Direction Man asked.

"Well, initially, I was going to have Former Villain Girl use her underworld contacts to spread the rumor that Brain Boy was going into the psychic advisor business. Then Convoluted Origin Man would allow himself to get caught breaking in to the Really Real Psychics' headquarters, ostensibly to steal their client list. Then he'd offer to sell Brain Boy out to Mrs. San Simeon in exchange for a cut of their profits. I'd secretly videotape their meeting, in which he'd get her to admit that she has no real powers. Then we'd buy advertising time right before and right after every one of their commercials and show our tape. The resulting customer outrage would drive them out of business."

Everyone sat very quietly for a minute, considering this. Finally, Bandwagon Chick broke the silence. "That's a . . . really . . . really . . . bad plan, Irony Man. It's so complex and bizarre. Why break in to their headquarters? Why bother with deliberately planting rumors and all that?"

"I was trying to give each of the team members something to do. You know, showcase their individual abilities. It's a moot point anyway, since we now have a completely different team. We've all worked together before, except for Kid Unique. What are your powers, exactly?"

"I have any superpower I can think of, as long as nobody else does. Have the power, I mean, not think of it."

"It must be hard to think of powers no one else has," Bandwagon Chick said.

"Yeah," Kid Unique replied. "Every day there's new heroes and villains showing up. Lots of them have brand new powers. That's why I decided to become a superhero now. I figure by the time I'm in my twenties, there won't be any unique powers left. Or else I'll be too old and unimaginative to think of them."

"Any power at all?" Irony Man asked. "Like the power to make all the supervillains in the world turn themselves in to the nearest police station?"

"Yeah, I tried that once but it didn't work. I figure it's either too powerful or somebody else already has that power."

"What about Omnipotent Man? Doesn't his very existence render you powerless?" No Sense of Direction Man asked.

"I guess not, 'cause I can do stuff. Maybe he's not really omnipotent. Or maybe he doesn't really 'have' a power unless he's actually using it."

"Can you create olfactory hallucinations?" Irony Man asked.

"You mean make somebody smell something that isn't really there? Let me see." Leaning back in his chair, Kid Unique squeezed his eyes shut and muttered, "Popcorn, popcorn, popcorn," under his breath.

"Hey, it works," No Sense of Direction Man said. "I can smell popcorn."

"Me too," Bandwagon Chick added.

"Okay. I've got a new plan," Irony Man began . . .

* * * * * *

Half an hour later Bandwagon Chick flew her mystical bandwagon, carrying Irony Man, No Sense of Direction Man, Kid Unique and Renegade Programmer, toward the Really Real Psychics' headquarters. Irony Man was reviewing the plan one last time. "Okay, Renegade Programmer, you have the control unit that Contraption Man made?"

"Right here, boss. It'll let us tap into their files and alter the content of their scripts, all from the LNHQ. Just give me ten minutes alone in their computer room."

"That's where you two come in," Irony Man said, turning to Kid Unique and No Sense of Direction Man. "You're sure you can use your powers on all the psychics at once?"

"We know there are only six people in the building," No Sense of Direction Man said. "We've both affected larger groups in the past."

"Assuming none of them are really psychic and figure out what's going on," Kid Unique said.

"Even if they are," Bandwagon Chick said, "I'll blanket the area with a Causality Enhancement Field, right before we go in." She tapped confidently on an ornate silver lever near the front of the bandwagon. "Guaranteed to 'blind' clairvoyants and precogs alike. They'll have no idea we're coming."

"We're getting close," Irony Man said. "Engage the field now."

Bandwagon Chick pulled the lever, then whistled to her ghostly horses. The bandwagon began its gradual descent toward the industrial park which was home to the Really Real Psychics. "I'll switch on the Cartesian Dualism Filter, too."

"What does that do?" No Sense of Direction Man asked.

"Combined with the Causality Enhancement Field, it makes us invisible. If they can't 'see' us spiritually they can't see us physically either."

Irony Man looked back from the front of the Bandwagon. "No Sense of Direction Man, this is your stop." The Escherian hero pulled his hood down to cover his face and took a step toward the building, appearing instantaneously behind some bushes near the front entrance.

"Okay, Bonnie, put us down just outside the back door. Kid Unique, you're on."

As the Bandwagon touched down, Kid Unique vaulted over the side and ran quickly to the back door of the building. "Smoke, smoke, smoke," he muttered under his breath.

Inside, five women sat in cubicles, speaking into telephone headsets while reading from computer screens. As they gleaned more information about their callers, they entered it on their terminals, which then presented a list of likely questions and responses. Kay Lamar sometimes wondered about the ethics of her job. The official company line was that the phone lines were for "entertainment" -- no more serious than fortune cookies or newspaper horoscopes. But Kay knew that many of her regular callers took the "psychic" advice very seriously indeed. She was thinking about this, and whether she should start looking for a different job, when she smelled smoke and pulled the fire alarm.

The "psychics" quickly evacuated the building through the front door. As they emerged, they were affected by No Sense of Direction Man's powers and became lost, wandering off in random directions. Kay Lamar accidentally walked into a travel agency, where she was immediately hired as a receptionist. Across the street, Irony Man's Irony Detector beeped softly.

"Irony Man, Mrs. San Simeon hasn't come out yet," Bandwagon Chick said.

"I'll fly in and 'rescue' her from the fire. Renegade Programmer, you can go in as soon as we're clear." With that, Irony Man took off and swooped in through an open window. He found himself in a large office decorated with astrological symbols and framed posters of Tarot cards. Sitting behind a faux-marble desk, Mrs. San Simeon laughed triumphantly at his arrival. "Um," Irony Man said, a bit unnerved at her unexpected reaction. "There's a fire. You've got to get out of here." He took a hesitant step toward her.

"That's far enough, Irony Man," the corpulent medium said, with a surprisingly masterful tone.

Suddenly, Irony Man heard the hauntingly familiar strains of a stringed instrument. "Wait a minute. That music. You're --"

The mastermind behind the Really Real Psychics pulled off the wig and mask of "Mrs. San Simeon," revealing a craggy-faced baldheaded man. "The Mandolin!" Irony Man finished.

"Indeed, it is I, your old foe. And, you'll be glad to know, that my mind-control device is once again in perfect order." He opened a drawer and removed a mandolin, from which an eerie tune emanated, even though no one was playing it. "Let's have a test. Radio your team and have them come in here and surrender to me."

In the grip of the Mandolin's fiendish mind control, Irony Man was helpless to resist. The other members of the 'Tsk' Force charged into the room, but they too fell victim to the music's strange charm.

"You're wondering how I managed to repair my mandolin, of course," the villain began. Irony Man smiled grimly to himself. His old foe still had his great weakness: Expository Villain Disease. He was physically incapable of refraining from gloating over captured heroes and explaining his plan. "It was fairly clever, if I do say so myself. I built a Thaumic Converter, to power a Karmic Feedback loop which . . . well, it would take a Spiritualist to explain it. Anyway, the upshot is that your Causality Enhancement Field allowed me to regain the use of my ultimate weapon."

"You see," he continued, beginning to pace behind the desk, "Ever since you started appearing with this 'Tsk' Force, I knew you were the key to repowering my mandolin. All I had to do was be annoying enough and you'd show up. The phony psychic front was fairly obvious, once I realized that it would take the power of the Mystical Bandwagon to recharge it. I knew you'd be just cautious enough to anticipate the possibility of your targets having real psychic powers, but not cautious enough to suspect this elaborate of a scheme. It's doubly ironic that you, Irony Man, should have been undone in such an ironic manner." He chuckled heartily.

The mandolin must not have been fully charged yet, or else the Mandolin was out of practice, for Bandwagon Chick was able to speak. "That *is* ironic," she said. "It's like . . . I don't know . . . it's like rain on your wedding day."

No Sense of Direction Man looked confused. "I don't think -- " he began, but Bandwagon Chick shook her head, almost imperceptibly. The mandolin's effect *were* weak, she decided. Thankfully, No Sense of Direction Man caught the gist of her idea. "Oh, I see. Yes, it's as though you had ten thousand spoons when all you needed was a knife."

Kid Unique spotted the plan as well. "Yeah. Or like a free ride when you've already paid."

The Mandolin was unprepared for all this uncontrolled chatter. "What are you --"

But his question was cut off by the seething Irony Man. "None," he said through gritted teeth, edging his left foot forward a fraction of an inch. "Of." Another fraction. "Those." Now the right foot moved. "Things." Left foot. "Is." Right foot. "Ironic!"

"No!" the Mandolin cried as he felt his mental control over the armored net.hero suddenly snap. He reached for the mandolin, but Kid Unique was a fraction of a second faster. Suddenly wielding a chainsaw, he shredded the mystical mandolin to toothpicks. The Mandolin dropped to his knees, sobbing.

As they escorted the blubbering villain, securely handcuffed, to custody, Bandwagon Chick congratulated Kid Unique on his quick thinking. "So, you used your powers to materialize that chainsaw?"

"No, it was just sitting there in the corner. I grabbed it when everybody was looking at Irony Man."

"Oh. Well, good job, anyway. Welcome to the LNH, Kid Unique."

* * * * * *

Copyright 1998, Steven Howard

Bandwagon Chick created by Sue Clark.

Renegade Programmer created by Ray Bingham.

Contraption Man and Irony Man created by person or persons unknown.

Used without permission.