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Heat	By : Aspergirl Category: +G through L > League of Super Evil Views: 1940 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own League of Super Evil, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Heat
- 2-Changing the Game
- 1
- 2
In the living room, the TV was on but no one was home. Red and Voltar had donned shoddy costumes and they drove wildly downtown to get to the Cash or Dash studio. As they crept into the studio, Red Menace adjusted his blonde wig. “Voltar, what about Doktor Frogg? And Doomie?”
“Forget them,” said Voltar, dragging Red after him looking for a pair of empty seats. “Doomageddon is busy with his hump-a-palooza, and we can’t have Frogg drawing attention to us! We need him for Phase 2 of my brilliant plan: rigging all the games!”
Red thought about this for a moment, then replied, “That doesn’t sound very sportsmanlike.”
Seeing his big henchman’s interest waning, Voltar added, “…but this is a game show, not a sports show. So this is how we’re going to play.”
“Oh, okay. Ooh, ooh, what will I get to do?” asked Red, eagerly.
Voltar’s glowing eyes grew wide. “You will have the most important job of all. Posing onstage with the fabulous prizes that only WE will be taking home! Muhahahaha!”
Red giggled along with him until an usher strolled by and asked, “Are you having trouble finding your seat, ma’am?”
Before Red Menace could say something incriminating, Voltar jumped up and down and waved his arms. “Why, yes, my good man, we are. We were sitting down by the stage ready to play ‘Nickel and Dimed’, but the Mrs. here had to go to the little girls’ room.” Red giggled again and batted his eyelashes. “Care to help us?” asked Voltar.
The usher looked the two up and down. “Alright, come with me!” Quickly, Voltar jumped into the empty seat left by the balding man in the Hawaiian shirt, who was onstage losing at the current game. Red sat atop a tiny old man without noticing.
“Heh heh heh, pretty soon, that self-stirring coffee mug and that alarm clock that looks like Polly Barton will be mine.”
If Doktor Frogg had been in on Voltar’s latest project, he would have scoffed at first, but would have far preferred it to his fate as Doomageddon’s chew toy. The lab looked like a crime scene, which it was, moreso than usual. Frogg squeezed his eyes closed to try to block the incoming sensory overload. He did not want to see his exposed forearm stumps, hear Doomageddon’s panting, feel himself being torn. Why can’t it just be over? Frogg wondered. Time really did seem to slow down during times of extreme pain. This was comparable to the shock that overtook him the day he wanted to make a minor adjustment on a device intended to make people so dizzy that they would vomit uncontrollably. Although he still had his human hands, he never had much in the way of good luck. As he reached in to adjust the relays, he bumped the button to activate the spinning of the machine. Disoriented, he slipped and could only watch unsteadily as his hands were destroyed. Now, he was sentenced to another pain that he was unable to stop.
Even as the ordeal came to an end, there was no mercy to be had. Doomageddon howled once more, and Frogg, drowning in his own sweat and tears, could feel himself being filled with the demon seed. The liquid was hot, but seemed to become increasingly caustic, burning his insides. Frogg wailed. His body seemed to be falling apart; he was surprised that he did not collapse when Doomageddon withdrew from inside him.
Doomageddon’s claws were lodged so deep into Frogg’s back that the animal tore the wounds wide open to free himself again. He tossed his head and looked over his conquest. Frogg lay face down on the floor, motionless except for his uneven heavy breathing. An observer with a shred of empathy would have feared the worst, given the amount of bloodshed. The delicate man looked like a corpse. Doomageddon approached and placed a paw in the middle of Frogg’s back. He emitted a growly laugh, then reached down to lick the blood trickling from Frogg’s shoulder blades. Sweet and metallic in taste, just like Frogg himself. “Leave me alone,” Frogg gasped, crawling under his desk. Having gotten his fix already, Doomageddon trotted off for a satisfied rest.
After taking time to catch his breath, Frogg attempted to stand. It was difficult to fight the pain in his back and abdomen, but he needed to clean himself up and locate his spare claws. Once reclawed, washed, and dressed in a new lab coat, Frogg carefully lay down on his bed. If he lay on his side, completely still, the pain faded. Even though fixing himself up and replacing his claws restored some comfort, still too fresh in his mind was the sensation of Doomageddon taking his last sense of security away from him. He wasn’t even safe in his own lab. He pulled his blanket up around his face and shivered. There would be no sleeping any time soon.
By the time Voltar and Red Menace returned, Doomageddon was lost to deep sleep. Voltar came inside holding a 24-pack of toilet paper, each roll a different neon color. He couldn’t take his eyes off it, but he was still a little disappointed. “I can’t believe we ran out of time before we could take over the show. All I won was toilet paper… that would be perfect for TPing all the houses in the neighborhood! Think of it, Red Menace, citizens of Metrotown would tremble in fear of being hit by the League of Super Evil’s Technicolor TP!” He cackled, and the failed game show coup was forgotten. There were bigger decisions to make! He plopped down on the floor and tore open the package. “What color should I use first? Black would look really evil, but is that too cliché? Hmmm.”
Red was pleased with his winnings. Watching the Shop Without Leaving Home channel for hours at a time gave him an edge when he got his turn on stage. He had won himself a pair of bright pink Swippers, slippers with cleaning pads on the bottom. “Now I can leave a trail of helping wherever I go!” Also stashed in his uniform were gifts for Frogg and Doomageddon. It just didn’t seem fair to keep everything for himself. For Doomageddon, there was a 6-pack of Pupweiser. Red placed this next to a sleeping Doomageddon and smiled. “He’ll be so happy when he wakes up, just like the dog on the bottle.” On the bottle was a dog who looked so happy he could barely stand on all fours without toppling over, but this was lost on Red. Doomageddon pricked up his ears. He tossed the 6-pack into the air and swallowed it whole, bottles and all.
“I know better than to go into Doktor Frogg’s lab without asking. I’ll give him his Swiss Army Flash Drive later.” It produced many tools, more than Red could name. “He’s gonna love this. It’s so gadgety!”
Later that afternoon, Voltar was enjoying a relaxing bath, and Red Menace was working in the garden. Frogg peeked out the door to his lab, making sure the coast was clear. Doomageddon was flopped on the couch. If I can just get past him, maybe I can call for help. Get someone to take him away… Barely awake, Doomageddon sniffed the air. Frogg’s blood ran cold as he saw the hellhound rise to his feet and turn to face him. But instead of the usual bared teeth, the hellhound’s eyes were glassy and his tongue hung out of his mouth. He tried to walk in Frogg’s direction, but instead staggered back and forth like he was on a boat being tossed on the sea. “What’s going on?” Frogg asked, feeling a little dizzy himself, and wondering if that was part of the beast’s plan. But it was not. In seconds, Doomageddon crashed to the floor and gave grunting laughs as his legs continued to move. Frogg realized what he was looking at: an opportunity.
As quickly as he could, Frogg returned to his lab to put on his special headphones and a minion pair for Doomageddon. He placed the headphones on the animal’s head. The pain was still sharp throughout Frogg’s body, but there would be vengeance. “Ready for playtime, Doomageddon?” Doomageddon looked dizzily up at Frogg. “And I have just the thing to start us off,” Frogg cooed, holding up the flash drive and activating a fan of unpleasant looking instruments.
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