by T Campbell and Comickook
Webbed feet walked on air, not quite touching the river. Samantha Drake, the Siren Belle, shivered. Even with her powers, it was a long walk, and of course one had to dress appropriately for the party; but there was the boat, up ahead.
The Steamboat Hatchez continued down the Mew Orleans riverfront. Inside, Mew Orleans’ higher animals glittered in jewelry and sequins. The conversation drifted around how wonderful it was to see one another, how much they all loved that dress, how horrible the world situation was, and how difficult it was, since the recent unpleasantness in Afghanhoundistan, to find fresh imported caviar. Rova Barkitt was right at home.
“And now you say it all the time, whenever any old Swinefeld actor starts a new project,” said Jason Alligator. “‘This project is doomed. It’s the curse of Swinefeld.'”
“Oh, pooh-pooh, dahling!” Rova replied. “What do we simple entertainment reporters know, anyway? You’ll come back bigger than ever!”
“Ahhh, I don’t really mind,” said the short, balding, bespectacled Jason. “I mean, I used to be worried that I wouldn’t live up to high expectations, but now everybody’s expectations are through the floor! I do a Kentucky-Fried Chiclets commercial where basically all I do is smile and squint, and everybody says–”
“Yankee Poodle! Stay alert!”
Rova tensed but tried not to show it. “Can you excuse me for a minute, Jasie, dear? I’ve got a sudden headache.”
It wasn’t a lie. In the privacy of the females’ room, Rova tapped her communicator and hissed into it, “Don’t do that!”
“She’s close, Y.P. You were right.”
“So call me on my cell! Stay out of my head!”
“I assumed you’d want me to contact you quietly.”
“Sheez, you really don’t know anything about show business, do you? Nor about your hometown, apparently. These animals are as, ah-heh-heh, ‘free-spirited’ as any I’ve met in Follywood. How did you manage to live here so long and stay such a doe-eyed innocent?”
There was a silent pause, during which Rova was fairly sure she could hear Alley-Kat-Abra doing a breathing exercise to keep her temper. “Just get into costume–“
“Already done, dearie. This little chat isn’t taking too much of my concentration.”
“–and get out there. I’ll teleport in once you make your move.”
“Just in time to steal most of the credit. Got it.”
Rova got out of the room just in time to dodge a flying hippopotamus.
Sure enough, the Siren Belle was there, and she wasn’t wasting any time. The males were all immobilized, and the females were helpless before a telekinetic storm straight out of Stephen King-Vulture. Wallets, credit cards, and jewelry were all floating out of their places and into a pile in front of her as she finished her song about lost love and missed alimony payments.
Rova had learned the best time to quip was just after the first attack, when they’re trying to think of a defense. Never quip before you attack, no matter how good it feels, or you’ll lose the surprise.
Stripes shot out of her left hand and wrapped around the Belle’s bill, duck-taping it shut. “Consider this music criticism.”
Cheers went up among the females who could still stand: “Animerica! Animerica! United Species forever!” Rova had been wearing the flag since before it was fashionable, but it was very fashionable this year. Of course, Rova, though a proud patriot, was hardly Captain Americat. Someone else might consider it a little déclassé to accept those cheers. But Rova wasn’t someone else.
She never saw it coming. The Belle made no gesture, and the air gave no glow. Rova just felt an invisible truck smash into her, smash her into the nearest wall, and pin her there.
For a few seconds, they both struggled, Samantha Drake to open her beak, Rova to wriggle her right hand free. Rova was making slow progress, and Samantha was making none.
Desperately, Samantha applied small telekinetic bursts to either side of her bill. They hurt, but they got her mouth open, and she opened it to sing again…
And her breath caught in her throat.
There was a flash of light in front of her, and then there was a black cat — large, imposing, and levitating just above eye level. Samantha knew of Alley-Kat-Abra, had seen her once or twice before, but barely recognized her now. Abra’s eyes gleamed. Her wand gleamed. Even her tail gleamed. “Surrender,” she said, and the word was more than a word.
Samantha had never been more afraid in her life — but her words were more than words, too.
“Life is sore surrender, life gives endless pain,
But life can offer splendor if you know how to gain,
Gain trust, gain friendship, yes, gain love, the kind that makes you free,
Ah need a friend, a soulmate, someone who will fight for me.”
Felina Furr felt, rather than saw, the males beginning to respond, to step toward her. Rova was free, but still unsteady. “Wanda, quickly, close her jaw! Hurry up and — clench her… maw!”
Magic Wanda sputtered, complaining, and nothing happened. “Look, Wanda, these are ad libs! What do you want from me?”
She was unprepared for the answer. Wanda flew out of her hand and into Samantha’s. Samantha stared, not understanding.
“… What?” said Felina, wobbling in the air.
It’s always something, thought Rova darkly, shooting stripes out of her fingers, hoping to yank that dumb stick out of the battlefield before things got any–
The stripes touched Wanda, and Wanda didn’t like to be touched. She exploded with force in all directions, sending everyone but Samantha flying backward. Felina barely had time to go limp before she slammed into Rova and into unconsciousness.
Samantha looked around at the room, then back at the wand. She tried a few more rhymes, experimentally. Wanda glittered happily with each one.
And Samantha began to smile. “Y’know, ah was thinkin’ ah might want to borrow one of your lifeboats, but now… ah don’t think ah’ll… we’ll… be needin’ it. Thank y’all for your hospitality. G’bye, now!”
And Samantha, Wanda, and the pile of valuables levitated out a broken window, with Samantha laughing like the pealing of a bell.
“‘Oh, don’t worry, my friends,'” muttered Rova sarcastically, moving painfully under Felina, reaching for her signal device. “‘I have this totally unique, semi-conscious magical object under my complete control!’ When you wake up, I’m suing you.”
***
The Zoo Cruiser sliced into the Mew Orleans sky with more style and power than any jet. Byrd Rentals flew it in a holding pattern, caressing the curves of nearby clouds, while practicing his lady-killer smile.
The magical alarm had gone off about fifteen minutes ago, so one of two things would probably happen soon. One: Abra and Rova would report they’d captured the Belle, and Byrd would get to help with the interrogation. Two…
The alarm sounded on his wrist, and it was orange alert. So it was number two: that the ladies needed help bringing this dastardly duck damsel to justice. That was much better, especially since Byrd’s method of restraint was to turn himself into an avian body-wrap. Byrd cranked the Cruiser’s radio to the max and began his dive.
It was then that Rubberduck spotted the Siren Belle making an escape with the loot and Alley-Kat-Abra’s wand. He could also see that Fastback, the Reptilian Rocket, was zipping in to rescue both Yankee Poodle and Alley-Kat-Abra from the clutches of the Belle’s mind-controlled minions. Exuding confidence in his carefully prepared defenses — specially designed lenses and a pair of earplugs — Byrd steered the Zoo Cruiser toward the fleeing villainess.
Unfortunately, the radio was still blaring loudly, giving away Rubberduck’s position. The Belle effortlessly sidestepped the incoming vehicle and fired a blast from Alley-Kat-Abra’s wand, narrowly missing the Cruiser. But Rubberduck’s piloting skills were second to none, enabling him to skillfully dodge the attack.
Just as the Siren Belle prepared to launch a telepathic assault on the Zoo Cruiser, she was unexpectedly hit by a star-blast from Yankee Poodle. Surprisingly, the Belle not only remained conscious but also seemed relatively unharmed. The star-blast somehow had the peculiar effect of amplifying her powers instead.
As Alley-Kat-Abra slowly regained consciousness, she looked over at Magic Wanda, still in the Siren Belle’s grasp, and used their psychic connection to convey her thoughts directly.
“Listen, Wanda, I genuinely apologize for snapping at you earlier. I should have put more effort into coming up with a clever rhyme. I shouldn’t have boasted about controlling you because, ultimately, nobody controls you except yourself! I took your assistance for granted, assuming you would always work for me. However, if it’s not too late, I would love for you to return and work with me as an equal partner.”
Touched by this sappy, yet surprisingly heartfelt apology, Magic Wanda began to fight against the Siren Belle’s grasp, determined to break free and return to Alley-Kat-Abra. But the Belle’s telekinetic powers held her captive, leaving her in a frustrating tug-of-war.
Luckily, the Siren Belle’s energy waned from the intense struggle, leaving her vulnerable to one of Yankee Poodle’s clever stripe-traps. Samantha Drake, realizing the urgency of the situation, started singing again, using her mesmerizing voice to control not only Fastback but every male on the ship. Unfortunately, Fastback was not protected by special earplugs like Rubberduck, leading him to fall under Samantha’s spell as well.
Under Belle’s control, Fastback, with his lightning speed, swiftly took advantage of the situation, snatching Yankee Poodle’s stripes and zipping them repeatedly around both Alley-Kat-Abra and Yankee Poodle. With the help of Magic Wanda, Abra managed to free herself and Rova from the stripe entanglement, making sure to express her gratitude.
Nonetheless, the diversion proved enough for the crafty villainess to escape, or so she thought. Rubberduck discreetly trailed after her once they landed the Zoo Cruiser. Magic Wanda swiftly froze all the entranced males with her trusty freeze ray, ensuring no one would be harmed. Well, except for Fastback, who used his unique powers to vibrate his way out of the ice block, which had the added effect of also breaking him free from Belle’s control.
“Much obliged to ya an’ yer wondrous wand, Miss Abra, ma’am!” Timmy-Joe Terrapin chipperly remarked.
Abra, ever honest, corrected him, “Actually, you saved yourself with those impressive ultra-sonic vibrations. I simply gave you an opportunity to use them. But I must say, there is a silver lining to Magic Wanda’s brief bonding with Belle…”
Annoyed, Yankee Poodle questioned, “And what might that be?”
“The silver lining is that Magic Wanda now has a mental connection with our enemy. That means we can track her anywhere, assuming Wanda is up to it,” Abra explained as her sorcerous stick led the fearless trio in pursuit of the villainess, like a magical bloodhound on a mission.