Sarcasmo's Scribblings

Monday, November 22, 2004

Hall of Mirrors

A little comic book style silliness, inspired by this post.

The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger strollied through the lush, tropical nature preserve that sheilded her hidden fortress from the eyes of evil; stopping on an overbluff to sit, watch the sunrise. She sat, stretched her legs, and poured herself some hot coffee from a stainless steel thermos in her pack. The sun crept slowly up from the horizon, stretching it's colorful fingers into the sky. The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger smiled as she sipped her coffee - this is what she missed most when they held her in the deepest pits of the demonic alien planet, the sun. Sure, they had given her powers, but they had taken everything else from her - her identity, her family, her freedom. Well, she had her freedom now - having clawed her way out of the depths of her hellish prison. When she got out, she saw the planets seven firey suns. That's when she knew she had defeated them, that she was free.

That was when she knew she had a purpose.

And that she would never miss a sunrise again.

Some would have consider the Earth's single sun a disappoint after the explosive spectacle of seven simultaneous sunrises, but for The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger, it was the most beautiful site in the universe.

Just as the sky threw off the reds and oranges or morning to cloak itself in its azure glory, The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger felt a sharp pain in her head. "Trouble," she thought as she squeezed her eyes closed, pushing back her fedora to press her red hands to her temples. She could see an amusement park, once grand, now worn and past its glory. Somewhere in it's depths she could sense the pain and confusion of dozens of patrons, their fingers coated in the powdered sugar of funnel cake, their souls sure of their place in the heirarchy of the world. "America," she muttered, "Coney Island." The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger whistled for her Firebrand, her flying Zebra. Soon she was miles above her beloved natural paradise, her coffee forgotten and cooling on the verdant forest floor.

Soon The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger was racing over New York, her long, thick braid whipping violently about in the wind. She tapped whispered something into Firebrand's waiting ear, and they set down by a Nathan's Hotdog stand. "Somethings not right, Firebrand," she said, looking around. It was a beautiful summer day, and yet Coney Island seemed deserted - discarded bits of cotton candy blowing by like tumbleweeds in the wind. "Where is everyone?" she wondered aloud."

Just then she heard a rustling sound behind her. She turned in time to see a small, hairy, blue demon appear in an unecessarily elaborate puff of grey, smoke. The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger blinked away the sting and stench of smoke and brimstone. "Jeffds," she said coldly, keeping her stance open while her muscles tensed to prepare to defend an attack.

"What are you doing here, Ranger?" The satanic Jedffs Warrior asked, his voice like a silky growl. He stood in front of a large atrium, which a wildly painted sign proclaimed 'Hall of Mirrors!. The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger could here a quiet weeping coming from inside.' "They stopped using animals in their amusements decades ago."

"Step aside, Jefdds," The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger demanded, slipping a fire disc from her belt, readying it as it ignited in her grip. "I'm going in."

Jefdds pointed to the Hall of Mirrors, grinning. "What's the matter, Ranger, need to check your makeup before I defeat you?"

The fire disc grew in intensity; and The gallant Twaoonsi Ranger skin illuminated as though she was burning inside. "I...SAID...STEP...ASIDE," she said, and she threw the disc. The world exploded briefly into flames...and then an unconcious, slightly singed Jefdds lay unconcious at the entrance to the Hall of Mirrors. The Ranger kicked his supine, smoking body as she ran inside the hall of mirrors.

The weeping was louder as she ran into the Hall of Mirrors. "Hang on," she called out. "I'm coming." Then she hit the mirrored wall, hard. When she stood, she found herself standing in the center of circular mirrored chamber. She systematically felt around the walls, and could find no exit. She could still here the weeping and moaning of many souls in torment; they seemed both at once near and far. She whistled for Firebrand, but instead of the familar pumping sound of Firebrand's wings, Jefdd's voice filled the air.

"Leaving so soon, Ranger? And you were so anxious to get in."

So. A trap. "What is this Jefdds? Some kind of game? Where am I? What I have you done with those people? Whatever it is, you won't get away with it."

"Relax, Ranger. It's just as the sign said, a Hall of Mirrors. A 360 degree hall at that. Look around you. I'm just giving people a chance to see themselves as others see them, as they really are. I can't help it if they don't like what they see.

" Look there. Look in the mirror. Did you know that duster coat made your rear end look so big?"

"My rear end is NOT BIG," the Ranger screamed, shooting a fire disc at towards the disembodied voice. The mirrors reflected the firey explosion so brightly she feared for a moment she would never be able to see again. She shook with anger listening to The satanic Jeffds Warrior laughter as her vision came back into focus.

"My dear," he said, still laughing - a deep, throaty, animal laugh. "There are things that don't lie: Mirrors, Scales, and I."

"What are you talking about, Jefdds?"

The room got dark around here - until there was just a concentrated beam of light on The Ranger. She could sense Jefdds very close to her - but could not see or touch him. His voice came quiet and close to her ear.

"You may kid yourself about your size, kitten; try to hide yourself under all those men's clothes, but we can see you. I can see you. I know how much you weigh. Shall I tell you?" Then he whispered a number in her ear, then added, "but your outfit makes you look twenty pounds heavier."

The Ranger's eyes grew round as she stared at herself in the 360 degree mirror, her hands working desperately to pull her clothes simultaneously tighter and looser - trying to make the image in the mirror match how she felt on the inside; lean, sexy, strong.
Did she really look this bad? All the time? Why hadn't anyone ever told her? How could her friends have let her walk around like that? She thought she looked good, especially for being a firey red freak.

Her eyes watered, and she could feel the moan rumbling in her stomach before it exploded from her mouth. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" She summonded all of her super-strength and banged both her fists against the mirror in front of her, shattering the mirrored room around her. She found herself face to face with a startled Jefdds in the middle of Coney Island - weeping men and women curled in the fetal position around them.

Before Jefdds had a chance to react, The Ranger was pummeling him, tears streaming down her face. When the authorities arrived, they had to pull her off of Jeffds. After he had been secured they told her she had been screaming; something about "unrealistic media-created body image" and "water weight." She couldn't remember anything but a blinding, debilitating rage, but her throat was sore, so she had no choice but to believe them. She whistled for Firebrand, and before she mounted she turned to the young Red Cross volunteer who was bewildered that all the affected park guests were so violently refusing his offers of food and hot coffee while they waited to speak the detectives. "Hey," the Ranger asked sheepishly, "hey. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," the Red Cross volunteer smiled, coming over with a donut and coffee and hand, clearly relieved someone was speaking to him civilly.

"Do you think...I mean," the Ranger asked sheepishly,"do these cargo pants make me look fat?"

The Red Cross volunteer shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "I - that is - I mean - I'm sorry m'am. I'm not supposed to answer questions about people's - I mean - you look fine to me - I - just - oh-god - please do hurt me - I'm just supposed to give people donuts. Do you want a donut?" He outstreched a shaky hand, offering the Ranger a donut, she good smell it's sugary glaze. It made her stomach rumble.

She felt her hand reaching for the donut and shuddered. "No, thank you," she said curtly. She mounted Firebrand and escaped into the sky. She promised herself that she would jog to the overbluff tomorrow. And she would start drinking her coffee black.


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    historical fact and may be "forward looking statements." Forward looking statements are based
    on expectations, estimates and projections at the time the statements are made that involve a
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