Mr. Music Please

It was funny; I didn't feel like I was under his power. And Squasha and Ramón didn't look like they were under his power. "I don't think that thing is working, Mr. Sassoon," I observed.

"Noooooooo! The warranty expired yesterday!" He fell to the ground, sobbing.

"Come along, Vital," said Squasha soothingly, "we're going to see the nice policemen."

"So, then what happened?" asked Othello, cleaning his monocle. Othello is a very well dressed polar bear who lives in the area. Some people think he's kind of stuffy, but he's really very friendly. He's sort of like a father to me; having taken me in, and helped me find my family after I was hurtled forward in time from the Woodstock era.

"Well," said Squasha, finishing her broccoli casserole (with cheese!). I'm told that the Plexiglass Onion makes a dynamite broccoli casserole, but I personally can't stomach broccoli. "Animal flew Vital Sassoon to the police station with the recorded confession. His trial comes up next Thursday. While he was gone, Ramón and I came back here and gave He-Man a haircut that would make him happy."

This was news to me. I turned away from the stage where Zero Power was running a sound check (now that the troubles had been sorted out, the RIP/Zero Power show would finally get to happen). "Oh? What does it look like now?"

Ramón spoke up. "He's back to his original pageboy cut."

"Ah," I said.

"How is the good Mr. Hogan faring?" asked Othello, with genuine concern.

"He's doing fine," I answered. "He was pretty well battered, but we gave him the title Most Powerful Man in the Universe. I'm sure that's helping his recovery."

"Anyone care for a coffee nip?" asked Squasha, popping one into her own mouth.

"No, thank you, dear," said Othello, "but I never touch the stuff."

Ramón accepted a nip with a polite nod of the head.

Squasha turned to me, "Animal?"

I hesitated. It was tempting, but I gestured a decline. "No thanks. I'm trying to quit."

"You're braver than I am," she said with awe. "Good luck."

"Thanks, Babe. I'll need it."

"Anyhow," said Squasha getting back to the story, "the only thing left to do is split the reward."

"Reward?" wondered Othello.

"Yeah," I answered, "the club owners gave us a bunch of money for stopping the mess. I figure the ClownWatch gang will have enough to keep their skateboards clean and sharp for months to come. And I'm thinking of using my share to put a down payment on the Canary and move Polar Bears Unlimited headquarters there, and maybe convert the attic into an apartment."

"You'll still have shows there, right?" asked Squasha.

"Of course!"

"What's Polar Bears Unlimited?"

"Oh, that's a magazine that Cat and I are working on."

"Oh cool. I hope it's a success."

"Thanks."

"What about the other agents Mr. Sassoon mentioned?" asked Othello.

"He was bluffing," said Squasha. "Musical time bombs are only good for a few hours. I'll tell you, though; I was quite surprised by the connection between Sassoon and Frank. It answered the one unanswered question from that adventure. How did Frank know that Santa would be here on the day he was killed?"

"Yes, because Vital Sassoon lured him here with a specially-tuned musical time bomb. Very clever," said Ramón, "if it weren't so damned evil."

"Normally," said Othello, "I would say, 'Leave this kind of thing to the police'..."

Squasha gave him a look. "The Metro Police?"

Othello nodded. "Quite right. I was not thinking. But you have to admit that you were lucky."

"True," agreed Squasha. "If Vital's hypno-glasses had still been working, we would have become his slaves."

"Actually," I said, "the specs were in perfect condition." The three of them turned to me with a questioning look. "I picked them up on my way out and tested them on some passing Panda-built FratRats, and ordered them to drop their pants." They didn't say anything, but motioned for me to continue. "Apparently, you have to have the brain of a slug to be influenced by these things."

"Ah," said Othello. "That explains why He-Man was the perfect pawn."

"I won't be around for the really fun part, but I made it a post-hypnotic suggestion. Now those particular FratRats will drop their pants every time they hear the name of their fraternity."

"Oh, yer bad," said Squasha.

"It should wear off by summer."

The band was finished with their sound check and was beginning its set. I would have been slamming with the rest of the Zero Power fans (being a fan myself), if I'd had the energy. Unfortunately I didn't, so I contented myself with keeping Ramón, Othello and Squasha company. Not the worst karma.

I was just happy that the whole ordeal was finally over.

Then Lion-O of the ThunderCats entered the room. His hair was done up in a huge Afro.

Squasha and I exchanged glances and sighed.

The End?