The Scarlet Derby and Midnight Jay - Volume 1: Gallery of Rogues (4 page)

The Derby cleared his throat. “So, if you were meditating, I suppose you weren’t listening to what I was saying at all.”

The Jay picked up The Derby’s hat and ran her fingers along his dark red hair. “On the contrary: I heard every single word, and it was all very sweet.”

“Ah, well then-”

“But we don’t have time for that. We need to catch up to those bourgeois burglars…”

O O O

The Three-Headed Mob found themselves before the last-standing tea house in all of London: the Lancashire-style tea house of North Argyle Street. In proper villainess fashion, Steletta cackled amidst the ranting of “Just as soon as we knock over this last tea house, we’ll be the most respected and profitable mob in all of London.”

“That is certainly true,” Bootsy said from the sidelines “But I’m afraid we have another problem: we’re down to our very last coffee bean, and since I threw the last of my formula on The Scarlet Derby and Midnight Jay, I’m afraid I only have enough to create just one more vine.”

“I don’t see how that dampens things at all,” Steletta scoffed, “we may only have one bean, but we only have one remaining tea house to destroy, and once that bean gets planted, we shall rule!”

“Duhhh, yeah…We’ve got one bean to rule ‘em all!” Healy declared from the sidelines. A moment of silence fell between the three gangsters.

“You ever figure out what his malfunction is?” Steletta asked Bootsy in a whisper.

“I’ve ruled out trauma. I think it’s very likely it might be chromosomal.” Bootsy replied.

“You don’t suspect the possibility of it being his sloping frontal brow?” Steletta blinked.

“I’m afraid so, most intellectuals have pretty much discounted the practice of phrenology. My latest glance at a medical textbook had informed me-”

“Not so fast you malodorous maladroits!” The Derby declared.

Steletta gave a gasp and spun around, “Oh no, not you two again! How long have you been standing there?”

“We’ve been here about as long as your intelligent henchman’s insidious over-explanation.” The Derby declared “Also, we happened to hear you mention that the bean you hold is the absolute last of its kind.”

Steletta sneered. “Curses, if they catch us, they’ll ruin everything. Heely! You take care of the two of them!”

“Deuh, what do you want me to do!?” Heely asked, baffled as usual.

“Oh, I don’t know…You’re supposed to be the muscle. Why not muscle them?”

“Oh yeah, thanks, Steletta, uh, your evil whims shall be committed on this day…” And with that the Three-Headed Mob’s dumbest member engaged the two heroes, slowly approaching them while taking into his hand the cricket bat he had tied across his back.

“Oh how droll,” The Jay scoffed. “The mighty Steletta hopes to overpower us with the use of strength combined with idiocy.”

“Do you think that we’re ill prepared to handle a mere thug like this?” The Derby scoffed “I bet all we have to do is tell him to look over at the six-eyed raven over there-”

“Where Bootsy an’ Steletta are standing?” Heely replied, pointing over his shoulder with the cricket bat.

“Or tell him that his shoe is untied,” The Jay added.

Heely shook his head. “Nah, I’m actually wearing loafers.”

“Uhhhh, or we could tell him that we’re actually the police!” The Derby stammered, running out of ideas.

“You’re not deh police, you’re a pair of justice-loving do-gooders like Bootsy said.” Heely replied indignantly.

“Egad,” the Derby gasped. “This buffoon is mysteriously baffle-proof!”

“Looks like the heroes are beginning to realize the awful truth.” Steletta said distantly with another chortle in her voice.

“And what’s that?” The Derby asked pointedly at the mob’s leader.

Steletta gave a wicked smirk “That of all the despicable trios now and in history we in the Three-Headed Mob possess the most INTELLIGENT brainless thug of them all!”

“It is true,” Bootsy added “He actually enjoys things like classical music and the occasional novel around bedtime. That reminds me, Heely: you still have my copy of
The Canterbury Tales
.

The Derby turned to the Jay and murmured, “That could actually be a problem.”

“Piffle, all that means is that this fight might actually be one worth having.” The Jay drew her umbrella and advanced on Heely, who took an offensive stance and clashed his cricket bat against the Jay’s weapon. The Jay swung two and fro, holding the hilt of her umbrella with both hands while Heely merely deflected the attacks by tilting his bat in parrying motions.

“Ah, I can see that you’re a fencer,” The Jay commented as she stood back, adjusting her stance to a fencing one to match the mob’s muscle-man.

“Duh, yeah, an’ I’m a pretty good one too.” Heely boasted.

The two continued to clash weapons in fencing style, moving back and forth on the tips of their feet while clashing umbrella-to-bat several times.

“Might I ask who your trainer was?” The Jay said politely when they crossed their weapons again.

“Oh, I trained under deh Marquis de Saabe, in Picardie, when I was very little.”

“The Marquis de Saabe was left-handed wasn’t he?” The Jay asked curiously.

“I think so, why?”

“Just looking for a flaw…”

The Jay suddenly gave a flourished thrust, curving her umbrella around the length of the cricket bat and then swiftly swatting it out of Heely’s fingers, where it landed just inches from Steletta’s feet. The leader of the mob gave a startled hop, and then leered angrily at the Jay, who had the tip of her umbrella pressed against a retreating Heely’s neck.

“Your move, Steletta,” The Jay grinned.

Steletta gave a huff and turned to Bootsy. “Well it’s your turn now, brain. Come up with a proper way to defeat those two.”

“I don’t think it’s worth it to defeat them, really.” Bootsy replied.

“What? Why? Why would you-“

“Listen Steletta, we’re in front of the last tea house in London with the last mutant coffee bean. I say we should just plant the bean in the tea house and wrap all this up.”

Steletta looked stunned. “Suggest that we forgo a climactic battle between the forces of order and wickedness and simply win the dirty way? That’s an incredible notion! Okay, let’s not waste another second in taking control of this city. Deploy the bean!”

Bootsy took the stance of a professional cricket bowler, ready to heave the coffee bean into the tea shop with a well-practiced throw. That’s when he felt a tug on his wrist. He was now bound to a long chain that was fired from the tip of The Derby’s cane.

“I can’t…let you…toss…that bean!” The derby groaned, as he used the whole of his strength to tug back at Bootsy’s throwing arm. Bootsy struggled to move his arm forward, but given that he was the brains and not the muscle of this gang, he couldn’t budge his hand an inch.

“Quickly, Jay, take the bean away from his fingers while I still have him!” The Derby shouted.

“Don’t you dare, that bean is our destiny!” Steletta shouted back. The Jay and Steletta dashed towards Bootsy’s extended hand at the same moment, hoping to reach the destructive kernel in time.

That’s when Heely reared back, gave an “Ah-“ followed by another “Ah-“ and then a “-CHOO!” and seconds before the mutant bean could be caught by the forces of good or evil, it flew from the force of the criminal idiot’s poorly timed sneeze and bounced into a nearby sewer drain.

The five assorted heroes and villains involved in this conflict gazed down in shock at the silent sewer drain.

“What are the odds that lone bean was actually dormant?” The Jay asked.

“My scientific achievements are always foolproof,” Bootsy declared, “So, it’s not very gosh-darn likely.”

The ground began to rumble, Heely leaped back when he felt the tremor. “It’s an earthquake!”

“Worse than that,” Bootsy spoke nervously “The vines have taken to the water in the sewer and are likely growing a thousand times what they would have on the pavement.

“Also, we should probably all run now!” The Derby added, and they did, just as the pavement at their feet began to crack under the pressure of a giant Arabica plant sprouting in the sediment rich sewers underground.

“Well, at least we stopped the vines from destroying the last remaining tea house.” The Jay quipped as the two acrobatically out-stepped the sprouting of branches in all directions.

“Well, there’s still a remote chance they could,” The Derby cleared his throat, and struck down a branch directly ahead of him.

“You mean you’re not certain?”

“With a mess like what’s going on now, do you think you could be certain?”

Suddenly, the ground burst open directly in front of the Derby and Jay, a mass of wildly wrapping Arabica vines swirled into view, wrapping around The Jay’s ankle.

“Not twice in the same night, you don’t!” The Jay declared, and slashed away at the invading vines with the blade in her umbrella. Moving spryly away from the cacophony of plant matter, she turned to her husband, who was holding multiple glass bottles between his fingers.

“Is that the defoliant you mentioned?” The Jay asked.

“Defoliant, sulfuric acid, mustard gas, anything I have in my arsenal that can potentially eat at the weeds!” The Derby tossed the bottles one at a time in different intervals wherever he could force the mass of mutant plant to retreat back underground.

“What about fire?” The Jay suggested.

“Of course, fire! Thank you, dear!” The Derby spun around his cane and struck one of the grounded vials, containing some lantern fuel, over the hilt. Then he ran it over the ground enough to make a spark, and viola, instant torch. He took the torch to the vines the Jay had combatted, setting them alight and shouting “Back, back I say!” until they receded.

“Help, we need somebody!” A cry came from behind the backs of The Derby and Jay. They spun around to see The Three-Headed Mob, tangled up in the much knotted vines they had left the heroes in just moments ago.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding!” The Jay spat. “For all the destruction you’ve caused, you deserve getting hung up in the botanical bundle you’ve made!”

“What do you want us to say? That it was a foolish idea?” Steletta said as she writhed in the still growing mass.

“That would be a start.” The Jay said wryly.

“Very well, it was a foolish idea!” Steletta squawked. “We don’t know what we were thinking using mutant coffee plants to try and undermine London’s lucrative tea industry! Now please cut us down. I know as heroes, you’d never leave anyone, even criminals like us, to suffer.”

“As a hero, I don’t have a problem with taking my time,” The Jay chortled.

“They look like they’ve had enough,” The Derby approached the mass, his makeshift torch still in hand. “We have your word that once we release you, that you’ll turn yourselves in to the authorities?”

“I swear! I promise on my own mother’s grave!” Steletta declared.

The Derby gave a nod and then jabbed at the vines with his torch, causing them to curl up and lose their grip on the three villains. When they were loosed, they fell in a heap at the feet of the two heroes.

“So, that’s the end of that, then.” The Jay declared as she crossed over them, holding out her umbrella at the ready. “I hope you’re willing to come quietly.”

“Oh absolutely, Midnight Jay, we’re perfectly willing to allow you to take us straight to-NOW HEELY!” Steletta shouted. Heely sprung up and tossed a mass of dead Arabica vine between them and the heroes, giving The Three-Headed-Mob enough of a blockade to scramble off into the distance. “Until next time you sanctimonious suckers!”

The Jay gave an agitated grunt, kicking the trunk of vine. “I don’t believe it, she swore on her mother’s grave!”

“Yes, but perhaps her mother is still alive,” The Derby added with a chortle.

The Derby and Jay returned to the scene of the wreckage. The wildly growing mutant Arabica branches had finally stopped laying waste to the stone pavement. The Derby did an about face and leaped into the jungle of interwoven vines to check the damage.

“Wait! Where are you going?” The Jay caught up to him only to find him standing in the middle of the wreckage with his arms crossed and a relieved smile on his face.

“Well I’ll be,” The Derby doffed his hat in awe. Standing between the two of them was the, thankfully, still standing teahouse, with only the smallest wisps of coffee vines clung to its outer walls.

“You might disagree with me, but I happen to think the old tea house actually looks quite a bit better,” The Derby said admirably.

“Downright Ivy League,” The Jay added.

O O O

The next morning, Thaddeus Hedwater and his wife Mary Jane, returned to the Lancashire Tea Shop to meet with their friend Constable Howard O’Gratin, who was surveying the damage caused by the Three-Headed Mob’s mutant plant-based path of destruction.

“Ah, Constable, I was hoping to run into you. Here you are.” Thaddeus said, thrusting into his hands a large metal atomizer.

“What’s this, then?” The Constable replied, looking the strange device up and down.

“It’s a powerful defoliant of my own design,” Thaddeus explained, “that should go a long way in helping you clean up the damage.”

“Something we were using when dealing with our own unruly gardens last night,” Mary Jane said idly. “Do you think you’ll be starting with this shop, Constable?”

The Constable shook his head. “No, I believe that the owners actually prefer it this way. They may be re-naming it into the Central Ethiopian Tea House now.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad they decided to stay in business,” Mary Jane said idly “I can hardly imagine a world where something as pedestrian as coffee is served on every street corner.”

“Indeed. Well, you once again have The Scarlet Derby to thank,” The Constable affirmed.

“Eh-eh, actually, I believe that this day was actually won by The Midnight Jay.” Thaddeus added abruptly.

“Are you certain of that?” The Constable asked, taking a pause to light his pipe.

I’m certain as if I were there myself,” Thaddeus replied.

“Oh, well. Should I ever see her again, I will pay her my thanks.” The constable tipped his hat, and returned to his work.