The lift doors opened, and Lincoln stepped forward into the command centre of the 3dIM. It was quite a sight to behold. Computer consoles with many flashing lights and multi-coloured buttons stood before giant glass panels revealing the majesty of the cosmos, with the already large image of the Moon gradually getting bigger and bigger. In front of all that stood John Wilkes Booth, a sinister smile on his face.
“Welcome to my humble home, Lincoln.”
“Your home?” Abe raised an eyebrow. “You mean you live in here?”
“No, of course I don’t live here. I was being facetious.”
“Barely. You were just lying, really.”
“Oh, and of course that offends Honest Abe, doesn’t it? You never could get the hang of it, could you? The one thing you always found difficult. Unlike suspending our civil liberties!”
“Oh, this is about the Civil War again, isn’t it?” Lincoln raised his palm to his face. “Weren’t you the one just now talking about leaving things in the past? You guys lost! Get over it!”
“Bah!” Booth smacked a nearby wall for dramatic effect. “Well, the only thing you’ll be suspending now is yourself. In space!”
“From what?”
“Eh?”
“What will I be suspending myself from in space? I suppose I’ll have a rope attached to a nearby asteroid.”
“Well…maybe!” John stuttered.
“I really wish you’d think your mild threats through before saying them,” Abe rolled his eyes. “Frankly it’s embarrassing having such weak banter with an enemy.”
“Is that any way to talk to your arch-nemesis?” Booth spat at the stove-pipe-hatted hero.
“Oh come now, Booth. Really? My arch-nemesis? I knew you had an ego, but I had no idea it was so big.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I’m your arch-nemesis! I killed you, for God’s sake!” Booth raved.
“Please. My arch-nemeses are injustice, tyranny, cruelty. You barely measure up as a thorn in my side.”
“Oh come on! Those are just abstract concepts, they can’t be arch-nemeses. You’re just taking the piss!”
“You’re just jealous because you’re only a little man in a big evil pond. Why, if I had a stick with all the measurements of villainy on it, I’d beat you with the stick and tell you to stop wasting my time. Because you’re barely a threat, Booth. You could be a recurring foe, possibly, since you’ve bothered me twice you might just qualify, but nemesis? It is to laugh.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not evil enough for you?” Booth stomped his foot in anger. “I’ll have you know I’m one of the most evil men who ever lived! Four other men were supposed to join me that night, killing off important political figures to create a massive power vacuum. But who actually went through with it? And with the president, no less! Me, that’s who! How’s that for pure evil?”
He gave a maniacal laugh as if to prove it. Lincoln didn’t look impressed.
“A for effort, pal, but face it. You’re just a chump. A stooge. A lackey for this new evil masters of yours. Face it, as a villain, you’re really second rate. No wonder this sinister geniuses have you running around doing their dirty work.”
“Oh, is that what you think? You think I’m not an equal member of…”
Booth stopped himself just in time. “Oh, very clever Lincoln. Trying to rile me up so that I’d reveal the identity of my shadowy organisation. Bravo,” he clapped mockingly. “If only you were a better actor, I might have fallen for it.”
“I’m still twice the actor you were, Boothy!” Lincoln shook a fist. “I tell you, I’ve seen some horrible sights in my time. I’ve seen brother turn against brother, men subjected to cruelties beyond reason, people forced to watch their loved ones die. But let me tell you something, brother, that production of Hamlet you did…that was the worst.”
“Shut up, I was brilliant! I was called magnetic before we really knew what that word meant! But enough of this,” Booth snapped his fingers, causing the lights to turn off. The only illumination came from the sight of the Moon in front of them.
“What now? Are we going to have a romantic meal together?” Lincoln smirked.
“Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you Lincoln?”
“Well, as long as you don’t order oysters. I’m not that type of man.”
“That’s not what certain history books suggest, Mr. I-share-beds-with-men.”
“It was the most economically sensible option!” Abe snapped.
“Suuuuure. In any event, the reason I turned off the lights, was because I wanted the most dramatic reveal for my little weapon. Enter!”
A panel opened up behind Lincoln. He turned around, and gasped in surprise.
“No…it can’t be! That’s impossible! It’s…it’s…”
(Just as a sidenote, don’t you hate it when people interrupt the narrative of a story just to get attention? I know I do!)
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