Issue #61

[mistconduct]

[Standing in Slevin's cabin is Chris, looking around his inmate's room, skeptical and full of doubt.

There's a door there that wasn't there previously.

Giving a suspicious look to it - who's to say Slevin didn't just get maintenance to prank him? - Chris walks over and opens the door.

Well, would you look at that.]


[The camera shuts off. Fifteen minutes later, Chris is standing in the middle of Slevin's bathroom, a boombox at his feet. He points to the camera, then back at himself. The boombox starts blasting out the ultimate 90s, MC Hammer hit single, U Can't Touch This.

In Slevin's bathroom, Chris starts doing the hammer dance. ]

My-my-my-my music keeps me so hard makes me say oh my Lord
Thank you for blessing me with a mind to rhyme and two hype feet
That's good when you know you're down
A super dope homeboy from the Oaktown
And I'm known as such
And this is a beat - uh - you can't touch

[You know that terrible dance move when a person grabs one of their ankles from behind, puts their spare hand to the back of their neck and shuffles around in a wild spasm?

Yeah. Chris is doing that. Except he misjudges the pressure put on his leg, pops the prosthetic out of place, and falls over.]

Comments

[routemistress]

Anywhere in the multiverse. Rorschach's New York, if you can't stand somewhere without bagels. But I'm a selfish old bag and I want you to stay 'ere, my darling.

[mistconduct]

I'm not leaving without Cassel, and Cassel won't leave without Needy graduating.

Does this mean I have to keep wardening?

[routemistress]

Either that or get demoted, and I'll break the limbs you 'ave left if you do summat that daft.

Any road, you've got the 'ang of it now, 'aven't you? You'll be brilliant. Even more brilliant.

[SO PROUD OF YOU CHRIS.]

[mistconduct]

Relax, I'm not gonna get demoted. That happens once in a blue moon.

Hah, jesus. Thanks, Iris, you're making me blush. Fuck.

...I don't even know what a second deal would look like.

[routemistress]

That's why I can make that threat and mean it, sweetheart.

Whatever you want. New legs. Immunity to emotion work. Ardly matters, does it? It's just a way of keeping score and carrying on the job in the end, isn't it?

[mistconduct]

...New legs isn't a bad idea.

Or powers.

Fuck. New legs or superpowers?

[routemistress]

New superpowered legs!

You've got a while to decide.

[mistconduct]

Holy shit, yes.


So wait. Does the Admiral kick you off if you can't come up with a deal?

[routemistress]

Nah, I've got no idea what I'll do when Ceres gets it together. Probably give it away, to be honest.

[mistconduct]

Wow. We're the laziest goddamn wardens. Can't even come up with a deal.

[routemistress]

Maybe I'll buy a planet. Set it up as a graduated inmate colony for everyone that doesn't want to go back where they come from.

Should I call it New Gotham, or does that strike a wrong note?

[mistconduct]

Call it Iristopia.

[routemistress]

...oooh, I like that!

There'll be gin fountains in the capital city and all. And a main square lined with statues of all the great barge wardens.

[mistconduct]

That went from mildly charming to fucking creepy in the span of .2 seconds.

[routemistress]

You could be right. I've got a place on Hyspero that's a giant stone version of me own 'ead. I don't even know 'ow much I must've 'ad to drink to commission that. I keep meaning to go back and blow it up.

Can I 'ave portraits of you all in the town 'all, though?

[mistconduct]

Wow. At least you're not bringing it back to the Barge.

Sure, but only if it's like a floor to ceiling thing. Like Henry VIII.

[routemistress]

I know.

Hmm. Aye, that'd suit you, you're starting to look a bit like old 'Enry.

[mistconduct]

Oh jesus christ, not you too.

I am not fat. I'm just. Getting a little pudgy. It's my summer weight.

[routemistress]

That only counts if you hibernate, darling. Anyway, don't worry about it, it's cute. I liked 'Enry a lot and all.

[mistconduct]

Ir-ussssss.

I'm not cute. I'm buff. Right? Tell me I'm buff.

[routemistress]

Buff as a big bear, so you are.

[mistconduct]

For fuck's sake. What's with you and hibernating metaphors?

[sssiiiiirrrrr]

You're going to drive them all back to their lives of crime.

[he loves you really boo]

[routemistress]

I'll provide boffer swords for the bar brawls. Oooh, and I'd better make sure it's got really good seas, 'adn't I?

[sssiiiiirrrrr]

Certainly if you've any taste for seafood.

[Gently being glib to avoid saying that he couldn't come to her planet, no matter how lovely it is.]