Spiderdom and the Quest for the Sky Cat

About three broken beer bottles later, Dom woke up on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom. His head hurt… a lot. He sat up slowly, cradling his head in his hands as he opened his eyes slowly, acknowledging his surroundings. He noticed the soft light that, soft as it was, was still too bright for his hung over eyes. He noticed that he was not in his bathroom but the bathroom back at HQ. He noticed that, in the cubicle next to him was a young woman by the name of Lime who was also cradling her head, but the difference between them was that she was muttering to herself as she did so.

“Hey, Lime.” Dom’s voice broke and his voice was far too high pitched for his head to forgive him.

“Dom, can you lower your voice an octave?” Lime whispered, clutching at her head, wondering what she had done to deserve this.

“If I talk again I think my head might just explode.”

“Then don’t talk again.”

“Oh… good idea.”

Both of them sat there, clutching their heads, while they sat on the brink of destruction. Everything was quiet until Dementia came in through the door.

“HELLO EVERYBODY! One of you must vacate the cubicle… THE URINE OF EVIL MUST BE EXPELLED!” He placed his hands on his hips as he shouted, very aware of their current position, and very proud of his evality. “COME ON PEOPLE! Don’t make me go over you Dom… remember that sometimes my aim is not so good, I’m evil… I’ll go all over you by accident.”

Dom crawled past Dementia out of the cubicle at sat up against the wall while Dementia sang to himself in his outrageously good falsetto.

Lime glared at Dementia. “Look, Mr. Evil or whatever your name is… if you don’t put a sock in it I will—”

“Do what? Strip for me? I do have a cure for hangovers you know… I made it myself. I could give it to you if you’re not so mean to me.”

“Fine.” Lime crawled over to Dom and sat next to him, she gave him one brief smile before closing her eyes.

Dementia finished his song and walked out of the cubicle, past Dom and Lime and washed his hands in the sink. After finishing he looked them over and said, “Now, you two… do you want me to help you?”

“Yes… please.” Dom whispered.

“Oh… well… I’ll see if I have any more of my excellently evil concoction.” He proceeded to walk out the room quickly. Returning a few seconds later, “Are you coming or what? And no crawling: I will not have you scuff up my evilly clean floors.” He nodded before exiting again.

Dom and Lime stood slowly, gripping the wall as they did, and followed him.

“He likes to hear himself speak, doesn’t he?” Lime asked as they followed Dementia down hallways, heading to his main office.

“Yeah, but don’t ask him to shut it. It just makes him unleash his “evil wrath” on you.” Dom even pulled the little bunny ears. Lime laughed, causing Dementia to turn around and glare at them.

“What do you think this place is? The non-evil-laughing-place? Wrong! This is an EVIL headquarters! No laughing allowed!” He pointed to a sign that Dom had never noticed before.

No laughing. Laughing is not evil. Anything not evil is banned. Yours truly… and evilly, Dr. Dementia.

The continued down the hallway until they reached Dementia’s main office, filled with cabinets of odd looking trinkets. Dementia walked over to the large circular table in the middle. Dementia loved this table as much, if not more, than his Wooden Chair of Doom. He called it his Table of Evil, or ToE for short. It was perfectly polished stainless steel, so clean you could see your reflection in it.

Dementia opened the top drawer and pulled out a small bottle. On it was the word “Panadol” crossed out and Dementia had written “Mystical Healing Potion” over the label with thick black pen. He pulled out two shot glasses from the draw and placed them on the table. “Here… if you tell anyone about this I’ll have you both killed and whatever.” He poured some of the contents of the bottle into the shot glasses and handed one to Lime who looked at it as though she wasn’t sure whether to drink from it or smash it over Dementia’s head and run.

Dom noticed the look and decided to lead by example. He downed the shot in one gulp and made a face as the taste of liquid paracetamol took over his mouth. Lime watched him for any signs of creeping death and, after failing to see any, downed the contents of her glass too.

“Dementia, one thing, you didn’t invent liquid paracetamol… you just scribbled it out and added your own writing.”

“WRONG! I may not have invented it but I did add something to make it not liquid paracetamol but my own crazy evil concoction.”

“And what was that?” Dom noticed his headache had faded quite quickly and he was beginning to feel good, very, very good.

“Straight vodka. A lot of it.”

“Oh… that would explain a bit.”

“I’m not medical doctor or anything… If I was I wouldn’t be a stripper, which I am… and man am I good… But, anyway, isn’t mixing medicine and alcohol bad?” Lime said warily.

“Bad, no. Evil, yes.” Dementia smiled a rare smile at Lime; he was warming to her.

“Uh… I see… Evil… yes… It sure is.” Lime did not like Dementia. He was crazy, goofy and not good. And his smile was scary, scary in an I-like-to-molest-strippers way… not in an evil way. He was giving her drugs and alcohol, smiling at her like some creep and he was tainting Bee’s awesomeness. This face sucker was going down.