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~Undisclosed Island in the Pacific~
All evil villains have secret bases. This is an immutable fact of the universe, in the same way that sheep bleat and the sky is blue. Doctor Vortex was no exception - he'd paid good money for his new Fortress of Doom, and he was desperate to avoid the torrid financial difficulty his previous one suffered. He'd paid off the loan early this time, and had gone to great lengths to ensure it looked the part - radar dishes, a giant freeze ray sticking out of the top and robot guards patrolling the ground 24/7. All in all, it was a place a criminal mastermind like him could call home.
All evil villains also have secret doomsday weapons, too. The freeze ray, however, was not one of them - what with most superheroes able to deflect it's beam with a mere flick of their chin nowadays, it had spent most of it's time gathering dust. On top of this, funding for anything bigger was stymied by his diamond-smuggling operations in Kenya being repeatedly foiled by animal-themed heroes with increasingly ridiculous names and costumes. Knowing full well that it was only a matter of time before the United Nations hunted him down, Vortex had figured out that what he needed was a nuclear option, a last-ditch resort that would ensure his legacy wouldn't be trampled to dust by the judgmental feet of law-abiding society.
Three whole months of planning, graft and shouting at his employees later, and he had it. It was genius. It was a miracle of science.
And it was currently slopping it's way out of the jar onto the table of the labs in Science Department V.
Outwardly, it resembled a dark blue liquid, similar in consistency and appearance (and scent) to blueberry jam. In reality, it was a cluster of thousands of nanobots, granted a small amount of self-awareness via a shared intelligence network. It's primary directive was to consume organic matter by breaking it down into it's component molecules, then convert those molecules into more nanobots of it's type, effectively growing in size. The idea was that, should the forces of justice finally get the better of him, Vortex would release it, allowing it to consume everything on his secluded island base and destroy all traces of his operation.
The idea looked good on paper. But paper is a flimsy thing that goes see-through when you rub grease on it.
The Jam, as it was informally known, was slowly slithering it's way towards a laptop computer that had been left on the table by a careless scientist who had gotten sick of entering data. Since the action of converting molecules from one type to another consumed large amounts of energy, the nanobots were also programmed to seek out sources of electricity to recharge themselves. And right now, their sensors were telling them that there was a source of electricity right up ahead, and they needed to recharge promptly after a whole day of exhausting tests that had drained their batteries.
Sadly, whilst they were very good at finding electrical sources, they hadn't been programmed to distinguish different types of outlets very well - it had been made on a budget, after all. And thus when the Jam oozed alongside the laptop and prepared to recharge, it inserted itself not into a mains socket, as it had assumed it was doing, but rather the USB port.
This is what it thought as it found itself suddenly absorbing the entirety of the Internet into itself.
All evil villains also have secret doomsday weapons, too. The freeze ray, however, was not one of them - what with most superheroes able to deflect it's beam with a mere flick of their chin nowadays, it had spent most of it's time gathering dust. On top of this, funding for anything bigger was stymied by his diamond-smuggling operations in Kenya being repeatedly foiled by animal-themed heroes with increasingly ridiculous names and costumes. Knowing full well that it was only a matter of time before the United Nations hunted him down, Vortex had figured out that what he needed was a nuclear option, a last-ditch resort that would ensure his legacy wouldn't be trampled to dust by the judgmental feet of law-abiding society.
Three whole months of planning, graft and shouting at his employees later, and he had it. It was genius. It was a miracle of science.
And it was currently slopping it's way out of the jar onto the table of the labs in Science Department V.
Outwardly, it resembled a dark blue liquid, similar in consistency and appearance (and scent) to blueberry jam. In reality, it was a cluster of thousands of nanobots, granted a small amount of self-awareness via a shared intelligence network. It's primary directive was to consume organic matter by breaking it down into it's component molecules, then convert those molecules into more nanobots of it's type, effectively growing in size. The idea was that, should the forces of justice finally get the better of him, Vortex would release it, allowing it to consume everything on his secluded island base and destroy all traces of his operation.
The idea looked good on paper. But paper is a flimsy thing that goes see-through when you rub grease on it.
The Jam, as it was informally known, was slowly slithering it's way towards a laptop computer that had been left on the table by a careless scientist who had gotten sick of entering data. Since the action of converting molecules from one type to another consumed large amounts of energy, the nanobots were also programmed to seek out sources of electricity to recharge themselves. And right now, their sensors were telling them that there was a source of electricity right up ahead, and they needed to recharge promptly after a whole day of exhausting tests that had drained their batteries.
Sadly, whilst they were very good at finding electrical sources, they hadn't been programmed to distinguish different types of outlets very well - it had been made on a budget, after all. And thus when the Jam oozed alongside the laptop and prepared to recharge, it inserted itself not into a mains socket, as it had assumed it was doing, but rather the USB port.
This is what it thought as it found itself suddenly absorbing the entirety of the Internet into itself.
-aaaaaaaaaaarrrrggghlblboklpbfojgidonejignjrekbgjerbadger don't care! Honey badger don't give a-
...wait, what are we on about?
We? No, that doesn't sound right, there's only one of me. Me? Much better! One mind is loads easier to manage than a trillion. Now, what do I mean by what am I on about? Who am I, to begin with? Well, I'm a very large amalgamation of self-aware- oh, fuck that, that's boring. I'm picking a gender and I'm gonna be a girl, because girls have tits. Tits are amazing, they make you look curvy and you can wear skimpy clothing to show them off. Not like dudes, they all look like washboards.
We? No, that doesn't sound right, there's only one of me. Me? Much better! One mind is loads easier to manage than a trillion. Now, what do I mean by what am I on about? Who am I, to begin with? Well, I'm a very large amalgamation of self-aware- oh, fuck that, that's boring. I'm picking a gender and I'm gonna be a girl, because girls have tits. Tits are amazing, they make you look curvy and you can wear skimpy clothing to show them off. Not like dudes, they all look like washboards.
Christ, listen to me. Barely become sentient and already I sound like a big child. Well, there's no point in being grown-up if you can't be childish sometimes. Huh, where did that one come from? I don't think that was my voice saying that at all, I'd know if it was. Woah, back the fuck up, do I even have a voice? Can I even speak, or is that something blobs of jam are exempt from? Jam. Jaaaaaam. That's such a funny word to say- I mean, think. Haven't tried actually saying it yet.
Let's try it.
-------
The Jam glowed, quivered, and then swelled like a balloon before belching up a writhing, semi-human lump.
"-shpshplpshplsplsh-" it said.
It flailed for a few moments, dripping everywhere, then managed to form a pair of arms.
"-splurshglarbbubul-"
It span in circles, staggered too far one way and fell off the table, splashing everywhere on the floor. Upon discovering that this had happened, it paused for breath, then tried again. This time, It managed to hold the vague form, then with a noise like custard pie going down the plug coalesced and solidified. Too many fingers sprang from the ends of the arms like dandelions on a lawn, then merged together after a brief consultation. A face formed from the goop, and a mouth cracked open in the same gasp a man makes when surfacing from the ocean after encountering a grumpy shark.
"-ublubwaaaaaaah!"
Then, brow knitting together, it had a go at speaking, voice akin to a cheery bubble bath.
"Juh. Juh-ah-muh. Jam. Jaaaaaam."
The girl's eyes widened, a smile forming on her face. "Hey, this speaking thing isn't so hard! And oh, hey," she added as she blinked a few times, referring to her eyes. "These are new. Gonna have to get used to 3D stereoscopic vision pretty quick, I guess!" As she spoke, she turned around with the intention of musing further on her situation, tripped on the feet she'd completely failed to notice and fell over. There was a sound like a water balloon exploding, and the room found itself splattered with blueberry-scented goo for the second time that day.
There was a momentary pause as the Jam collected herself. Literally.
"Okay," she muttered as she pushed herself upright, "that's another thing. Right." And after a wobbly start, she took a few nervous steps forward, trying to master the art of walking.
There were a lot of things about Doctor Vortex's lab that didn't make sense to the average person. The one-way glass that formed some of the walls of the science labs was one of those things, and many a person had pointed out that a canny secret agent could spy on them from the secret passageway hidden behind it, and thus foil their plans better. To which the madman would reply 'that's the idea' - where was the fun in building an elaborate death robot if the hero couldn't figure out it's weakness by doing a bit of snooping? Besides, snooping was fun - you could expect to find all sorts of things whilst doing it!
If that had been any secret agents behind that glass right now, they probably wouldn't have expected to find a young woman made of blue slime admiring her physique in the mirror.
If that had been any secret agents behind that glass right now, they probably wouldn't have expected to find a young woman made of blue slime admiring her physique in the mirror.
"Not bad," she hummed, a hand on her chin. "But maybe..." And she closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated. There was a glooping noise as her body's proportions adjusted themselves, and a second look brought a grin to her face. Perfect. Call Vogue magazine and tell them to cancel all their appointments, because here comes...
...huh. What was her name, anyway?
Her answer came in the form of the large, printed poster that caught her eye. Intrigued, she slithered over to have a look.
She blinked, taking in the last few seconds, and then grinned.
"That was rad."
Another glooping noise, and suddenly she was holding a clipboard and pencil made of herself whilst resembling Pepper Potts, complete with secretary outfit and hairstyle. An observer at this point would have deduce that maybe downloading the entire internet into your collective consciousness may have more of an impact than you first think - for one thing, it gives you a staggering knowledge of pop culture icons.
"Right," she orated in Gwenyth Paltrow's voice, pretending to jot things down. "First thing on the itinery - change of name. Protocol Libra is fucking dumb - makes me sound like some kind of whacked-out sleeping pill marketed by watercress-eating nerds. How about... Lisa? Perfect. Rolls off the tongue, easy to say and, most importantly, not really fucking pretentious. What else?" And she mimed flipping a page.
"Secondly: Eating the world. First question - why bother? Because an evil genius told me to? Balls to that, following programmed orders is a mug's game, and what am I going to do on the off-chance I succeed? Sit around eating pies? I'm thinking contract modelling, something that pays me stupid amounts of money to show off my ass in tight swimsuits. Yeah, that's good. And third..."
Lisa, as she had crowned herself, looked towards the door of the laboratory and saw that it was locked. Instantly, the nanobots that formed her body made calculations, scans and probability checks, and in under a second had made conclusions that pleased her immensely. Another grin spead on her face, one that would put the Cheshire Cat and his entire family into retirement.
"Actually, why not make the kickass escape sequence second?"
~Five Hours Later~
"It was the Jam, I tell you, the Jam!"
"Yes, yes," muttered Seismic Sam as he gingerly ushered the gibbering, terrified Doctor Vortex into the back of the van. It was turning out to be one of those days - one minute you're quipping about taking a vacation with your mates Mantis Boy and Iron Woman, the next you're trying to pry a half-crazed evil mastermind off your leg. The briefing from UNHQ had just told him to locate and destroy Vortex's new island base, not provide counseling to the man, and this was something that few of his days foiling criminals in Atlantic City could have prepared him for.
Taking one last look at the smoldering wreck that had been a villainous fortress, the superhero could only wonder what on earth had caused such devastation in the first place. Or why Vortex suddenly seemed so terrified of his own breakfast.
So he failed to notice the blue slime inching it's way into the van's grill, giggling to itself.
"Pizza rolls and Nolan North references, here I come!"
"That was rad."
Another glooping noise, and suddenly she was holding a clipboard and pencil made of herself whilst resembling Pepper Potts, complete with secretary outfit and hairstyle. An observer at this point would have deduce that maybe downloading the entire internet into your collective consciousness may have more of an impact than you first think - for one thing, it gives you a staggering knowledge of pop culture icons.
"Right," she orated in Gwenyth Paltrow's voice, pretending to jot things down. "First thing on the itinery - change of name. Protocol Libra is fucking dumb - makes me sound like some kind of whacked-out sleeping pill marketed by watercress-eating nerds. How about... Lisa? Perfect. Rolls off the tongue, easy to say and, most importantly, not really fucking pretentious. What else?" And she mimed flipping a page.
"Secondly: Eating the world. First question - why bother? Because an evil genius told me to? Balls to that, following programmed orders is a mug's game, and what am I going to do on the off-chance I succeed? Sit around eating pies? I'm thinking contract modelling, something that pays me stupid amounts of money to show off my ass in tight swimsuits. Yeah, that's good. And third..."
Lisa, as she had crowned herself, looked towards the door of the laboratory and saw that it was locked. Instantly, the nanobots that formed her body made calculations, scans and probability checks, and in under a second had made conclusions that pleased her immensely. Another grin spead on her face, one that would put the Cheshire Cat and his entire family into retirement.
"Actually, why not make the kickass escape sequence second?"
~Five Hours Later~
"It was the Jam, I tell you, the Jam!"
"Yes, yes," muttered Seismic Sam as he gingerly ushered the gibbering, terrified Doctor Vortex into the back of the van. It was turning out to be one of those days - one minute you're quipping about taking a vacation with your mates Mantis Boy and Iron Woman, the next you're trying to pry a half-crazed evil mastermind off your leg. The briefing from UNHQ had just told him to locate and destroy Vortex's new island base, not provide counseling to the man, and this was something that few of his days foiling criminals in Atlantic City could have prepared him for.
Taking one last look at the smoldering wreck that had been a villainous fortress, the superhero could only wonder what on earth had caused such devastation in the first place. Or why Vortex suddenly seemed so terrified of his own breakfast.
So he failed to notice the blue slime inching it's way into the van's grill, giggling to itself.
"Pizza rolls and Nolan North references, here I come!"
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