Charlie Chicanery #4 (of 4)

Exponential Self Loathing

Marvel at the mayhem as Charlie Chicanery fights tooth and nail against what appears to be his angry twin sister! Same clothes! Same powers! Same transient steel staves! Charlie's got his female nemesis in a headlock, while she's just elbowed him in a rather uncomfortable place, as they both struggle over some sort of doomsday device. Or is that the T.V. remote?

(That should do for a 'cover', shouldn't it?)

Notice: for those of you that are faint of heart, the following tale isn't exactly what one would call G-rated in nature. It contains a plethora of bad language, excessive violence, sexual innuendo, and of course, things that would get this story burned, were it in a printed form, by the more fanatical elements of just about any religion on earth. In other words, if these things offend you - you've been warned.

(That should do for a 'disclaimer', shouldn't it?)

***

"I'm waiting."

Wendell's mind was racing far and wide, but it was just not coming up with words. This made him incredibly angry at himself - he's always got words handy. It didn't matter what he was trying to say or do, he could easily just spew out a metric crap ton of verbiage to make most anyone happy - or dissuade them from pressing a point thanks to sheer confusion. But the pressure! It was dulling his higher functions.

"Uerrrmmm... just a second."

There, there's a few words. Three words. In English, even! He just had to think this through, quick. This weird pink guy, this alien who looked precisely like a human save for really really pink skin, he was going to disincorporate Charlie's atoms, but he was giving Wendell some sort of 'out'. An offer of sparing Charlie for some sort of payoff? But what did he have? What could Wendell offer to save his friend?

Besides his ship. But these guys, they should have ships aplenty, right? He saw dozens zipping in and out of that weird space warp thing. Space warp thing... hey! He had it! "Well, we came here to get a sample of your matter duplicator technology, you know, either all of it or a part. Or maybe a bit of the operating software, but we didn't want to wind up dead. Um.

"So why not trade for it? I've got something you may need, and if you leave Charlie alive and give me the blueprints and software to run the thing, I'll give you something just as valuable - a schematic for a fully operational faster than light propulsion drive! I saw your weird warp gate thing, you wouldn't use something like that if you could just fly wherever you wanted all by yourselves, right?"

The excessively pink man stopped short. His bemused grin sort of shifted into a thoughtful expression. He wasn't actually expecting to get something out of this, other than the satisfaction of spreading this destructive interloper's atoms across the cosmos at the speed of light. But... independent faster than light travel! The ability to go places unmonitored by the government and their 'free' subspace tunnels!

"You've got a deal, human. Just make sure you tell your friend to cool it once I reincorporate his mass, or I may have to rethink our bargain." With that, the pink alien pressed another button on his remote, and suddenly Charlie was back in a flash of bluish-white light. Of course, he wasn't alone, for there was another Charlie there on the matter transduction surface - though this one was of the opposite gender!

"Who what?!"

Both Charlies said this in unison, as they attempted to get over the disorientation they experienced from being disassembled and reassembled on a molecular scale. As this fog wore off, of course, the female Charlie suddenly realized that 'her' mass had been readjusted somewhat. The morphology of protruding bits not being THERE, but instead THERE, for instance. "What the Hell is going on here?!"

Of course, as it turns out, the person responsible for this state of affairs chose the worst possible time to laugh. "Hah hah hah hah hah. Well, that's one of the flaws in the matter duplicator, you see. In order to copy an object down to the exact atom, the exact state of its molecular existence needs to be observed at once. However, in observing something, you always inadvertently change it.

"We're attempting a workaround for this, of course, but while the duplicate of you there is precisely as you were, you have been ... changed by being run through our scanner. But don't worry! You're alive! As opposed to having been turned inside out or suddenly having purple skin, instead you've simply had your gender gene get mucked with. It's not like that's such a bad thing, is it?"

This got the alien punched by a very angry Charlie Chicanery, who - despite her sudden, unwelcome sex change - still had an inordinate amount of testosterone in her blood stream. "Kill you!" She started pounding on the alien mercilessly while her duplicate, the still male Charlie, fell on the ground laughing at this whole debacle. "He he he. This is rich!" At which point comprehension dawned on him.

"Wait, what do you mean? I'm the copy?"

This caused everyone to stop and stare at the male Charlie, what with his having completely derailed their current train of thought, no matter how violent it may be. Seizing the opportunity, Wendell ahemmed. "Ahem. Before we wind up killing each other, I do believe we had some business to attend to?" Still frothing, the female Charlie rapidly looked back and forth between Wendell and this... guy.

"Business?"

***

In accordance with (or in spite of) the shrill buzzing that two of the energy balls were making, the humanoid alien presented Wendell with a pile of discs. "Just to be official about this, I, Jorret of Mutfh, hereby officially exchange detailed information on the workings of the Jl'rtz Matter Duplicator in return for the schematics of your independent, faster than light vessel."

Wendell and Jorret then exchanged piles. "I took the liberty of saving all of our information in your 'CD-ROM' format, though I had to write a truly heroic compression algorithm to make it fit on those one hundred or so discs. Which seems to be about the size of the pile you've just handed me. Why you monkeys don't use superior storage I have no clue. But regardless - a deal is a deal!"

With the deal done, Wendell began to prepare his Space Boy for the leisurely drive home. Although he was slowly beginning to think that there wouldn't be all that much comforting about the flight; Charlie and Charlie seemed to be bickering. He wasn't sure, though he did manage to catch "And if you touch them again...," which didn't bode well for the future. Even if they did manage to get home safely.

As he did so, Wendell failed to see the third Charlie arrive from above, silently coasting down to land behind his two counterparts. Before they even noted his presence, the third Charlie pulled his staves - and their fresh new duplicates - out of the holsters the other two had strapped to their backs. As they turned on him in unison, the third Charlie just waved to them. "See you in a few years. I think.

"Still working out the details on this. These. You know."

He then vanished in a small implosion of air. Didn't even bother to give an impressive, explosive exit, nossir. Charlie and Charlie would've gotten angry about all this, of course, but they recalled their exchange with the now-third Charlie from before the duplicator incident and just shrugged it off. Though they also remembered some of the stuff he said about arguing with oneself...

Once Wendell was ready, the trio then shot out into space, intent on getting home and simply getting very, very drunk after the collective crappy day they'd had. Even if one of them didn't exist until halfway through it. When they'd escaped the atmosphere, Wendell started pointing at something, which the Charlies couldn't hear, but they looked in time to see a very large number of ships headed their way.

Not sure if Jorret had betrayed them or if this was some sort of proof of their theory about Wendell's tech not being legal / extant in these here parts, the trio verified their headings towards Earth with alacrity, and zipped off before the local equivalent of the Man could bring them down. Possibly with high energy particle weapons that would leave nothing of them save for their smoking boots...

***

Charlie woke up on the couch, feeling as though she hadn't got enough sleep. Or perhaps too much, it's hard to say. She never thought she'd be so bored in her life, not working at all. But then she and her duplicate had to lay low for almost four months, what with them supposed to be off planet still and what have you. And after that, well, it's not like she had a job herself.

Well, she did, of course, but Charlie wasn't about to tell everyone "Hey, I got a sex change!" Content to let her duplicate slip into her role as, well, Charlie, Charlie was at least 'keeping up appearances', even though she was merely laying around the penthouse all day. She just didn't like the idea of going outside, and being looked at. She may be physically female, but she was still all man in the head.

And she knew how she'd look at herself if she were, well, not her. Hell, the stupid duplicate does all the time, the creepy pervert. She was just having a hard time adjusting to being a she, when you came down to it, after a good twenty years of... not being one. And having not intended to be either. Which made Charlie angrier - how many people would've LOVED this sort of thing? And yet it happened to him.

Or her. Whatever. Feh bah.

This looked like a job for alcohol!

She could've simply ordered booze in, mind you, but Charlie hadn't left the place in months, and thus finally got dressed (she hadn't really bothered in a long time) and stepped out the penthouse door. That's when she saw her neighbor for the first time, a really short, stocky guy dressed somewhat like Indiana Jones. If Indiana Jones were 4' 7" and had a beard you could hide a cat in.

"Hello!" The short fellow was also unnaturally cheery, and Charlie couldn't deal. "Hrm." She then exited the hallway into the stair well, headed up to the roof access. Feeling actual wind for the first time that seemed to truly stand out, Charlie extended her hands wide to enjoy the feeling. She was about to fly to a random bar when she realized she didn't have her staff. No need to go out 'naked'.

Somebody might find themselves needing a few tachyon burns. So she grabbed it and hit the streets.

"Stop looking at me!" Screaming this on a crowded street on Manhattan island doesn't generally have the desired effect, so Charlie simply hunkered down and made her way into the first bar she could find. She got some odd looks, what with her carrying around a 6' long steel staff, but since she wasn't hitting anyone with it nobody made a proper stink about the thing. Which was truly beneficial for everybody.

As the night wore on, Charlie had managed to get herself totally trashed, and though several people tried to take advantage, as it were, she managed to scare most off easily with her talk about sex changes and pink space aliens and the like. She got louder and louder over time though, and eventually the bartender had to cut her off, since she wouldn't stop badgering the other customers.

Even if they were sort of asking for it. So there she sat at three in the morning, outside this bar that had so viciously thrown her out. Sulking on the curb, Charlie had decided that she really did have fun, despite being angry all night about her predicament. The dread chill of optimism was threatening to derail her sulking, when suddenly a shrill cry sounded out from the alleyway to her left.

Stumbling to her feet, mostly thanks to the staff she was again glad she'd brought along, Charlie teetered around the corner to take a look. Seeing several figures moving around in the darkness, she headed that way, ambling into the alley contrary to what common sense would tell just about anyone else to do. Of course, Charlie's got truly uncommon sense - a sense of indestructibility!

Finally getting close enough, Charlie created some illumination with her transient steel staff, releasing just enough energy to react with the metal and make it glow. That's when she saw it - there were three guys here mugging one of the girls from the bar. Or they were until a few minutes ago, at which point they'd suddenly got the bright idea to take something else... which registered in Charlie's head fast.

"You bastards!"

Brandishing knives at Charlie, two of the thugs began to Menace her proper, while the third held onto their victim. This is about the time when Stupid Guy Number One opened his big mouth. "I remember you! You told me I was so ugly that you wouldn't go out with me until I got some plastic surgery! You're gonna pay for that you -" Stupid Guy Number One almost uttered a bad word, but he never got the chance.

This being because Charlie let loose with a full-on blast of tachyons from her transient steel implement, and he suddenly wasn't in a mood for talking any longer. Or anything else, when you get down to it, since most of him had been vaporized. As his switchblade clattered to the ground, his buddies freaked out proper, and charged at Charlie - which was yet another bad idea, really.

Nonetheless, Stupid Guy Number Two and Stupid Guy Number Three didn't get quite the treatment that Stupid Guy Number One did, for Charlie simply charged up her staff and beat them with it. In the groin. And in the back of the head. The concussive force was more than enough to deal with these two losers - concussions and ruptured testicles aside, they just might live long enough to regret what they'd done.

Charlie then kicked each of them in the behind, out of spite. Hey, she was still drunk, you know. "Hah! You chumps, thought you could mess with me! I'm Charlie Chicanery, and I'm a Super Hero, Bitches!" A few more kicks for good measure, and Charlie turned towards the victim of tonight's carnage. "Hey lady, you gonna be okay?" As she retrieved her purse, Charlie's rescuee eyeballed the smoking boots of Stupid Guy Number One.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, ah, Charlie. Thanks for your help, who knows what they'd have done if you hadn't showed up - or even just a few minutes later. And all because I wouldn't hang with 'em... I told them I don't like guys... but then I guess you had issues with them in the bar, too. Name's Rita, by the way." Taking and shaking the offered hand, Charlie was feeling really good. And not just because of the booze.

She'd actually done something... something good! She hadn't just squandered the night eating bon-bons on the couch while watching dirty movies, she saved someone's life! Or at least saved them from some sort of really unpleasant assault... or both. You never know in this town. Her head swimming, the adrenaline failed her and the alcohol took its toll anew, so Charlie had to sit down. Abruptly.

"Heh, you look like you could use some coffee, Charlie. C'mon, I'll buy!" As Rita helped Charlie back up to her feet, Charlie's trademark sluggish thought process finally caught up with her. "Wait a minute. Doesn't like guys. I'm not a guy... these days. Hey..." And though she'd been miserable ever since her last job for the E.S.E., Charlie couldn't help letting that Optimism take over once again...!

***

So, though his duplicate took over his life, and he even found himself the surprise recipient of a gender bender, it looks like Charlie may've found himself - or herself, as it were - a new niche in life. Does Charlie get the girl? Does she become an amazing super hero in her own right? Or will she just become another raving lunatic stalking the streets of New York City?

While we won't hear from Charlie for a while, considering what we know we may as well just say it'll be a little bit of all three...

***

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