The trouble with neighbours

– “Bongo, we have some serious trouble. Can you help us?”

The mayor of Millenium City looked expectantly at the hulking, long-armed creature in front of him; trying to hide a lingering unease. The mayor was a traditionalist – superheroes should wear spandex and have capes, with a straight posture looking really heroic. But the …person… in front of him was very far from it – a big clown with a movement pattern that reminded him of the Librarian from Unseen University. Well, at least if the Librarian had been a real creature and not a fictional character.

– “Will look into it boss. There might be some collateral damage though, my Qularrese is a bit rusty. Once when I tried to order a veggie Qularr pizza I ended up insulting the restuarant owner’s daughter and… but never mind. I will do my best”.

Bongo headed off along the streets,  jumping and running on all four at the same time.

The Qularr quarters in Millenium City was not always that popular, but with the continuous investement into entertainment complexes by various Qularr corporations had caused a boom and now everyone wanted to either hang around or live near the Qularrs. At least until today.

It is still not clear what has caused the riots, with Qularrs smashing everything non-Qularr in the area. Bongo started to ask the local Qularrs he ran into, but it was a bit difficult to make sense of what they said – Mill-something or Anilli-something.  They did point down the road a few blocks though, so Bongo headed off in that direction.

He wore his Real Hero badge, which kind of gave his presence some kind of official status. Which meant that everyone wanted him to help with something. If it was not finding a cat, or find some toy gun for a kid, then it was finding some losy items for a tourist and helping some locals carry around stuff, solve a crossword or a sudoku or give some gardening advise.

After a bit too long sequence of a bit mundane tasks he ran into Ironclad. Not quite the clientel he usually hang out with (those gladiator types become quite annoying after a few beers), but the big…”thing”..Ironclad had put up was kind of interesting.

– “It is a ghetto blaster!”, Ironclad announced proudly.

– “Those damn Qularr pulled out most of the cords though, so I have to re-assemble it again. But man, wait until I put the music back on. It is hooked up directly to our Media Center in our apartment and I can remote control it from here! This is sooo cool!”. Ironclad almost purred with joy – although thinking of a person of Ironclad’s posture purring is almost a recipe for Stomach Unrest.

This might be it – the Qularr are known for a quite exquisite taste in music in general, but with people like Ironclad you never know what might pick their fancy.

– “So, Iron my man. What groovy sound is on your playlist today?”.  Bongo tried to not sound too eager to get the answer.

– “Oh, I am going through some of Defender’s playlists right now. He has some wicked oldies in there! He is home now, he can probably set up some of your favourites if you pay him a visit.”

Defender has chosen the playlists?!? The man that had been banned from most music cafés and night clubs in the city and was the majority of the city’s DJs “most hated list”? That Defender?! Bongo smiled, this was going quite well.

Bongo ran..ehh..jumped…or something right into the Champions building. The lobby was a mess. Bongo checked the apartment list. Defender and Ironclad – 3rd floor. A few quick jumps and Bongo was outside the door – it was open.

There was some rumbling and noice. Bongo noticed a few unconscious Qularr in the front hall, with a painful expression on their faces.

– “Hey, Defender, are you there?” Bongo shouted.

– “Huh, who is that? I am in the living room” the answer came back.

Bongo headed in, but was startled by the high-pitched sound that came out of the speakers in the living room.

– “What the *&!% is that?” he shouted, clasping his hands over his ears.

– “Ohh, that is Milli Vanilli! I found every song they med and a few covers as well on Spotify and I have set up a playlist with them!  Cool huh?”

– “Are you crazy!? Do you understand the havoc you are causing by playing that in the Qularr quarters!? And how could you let Ironclad hook up a Ghetto Blaster to play this as well?”

– “…uuuhh..eeehhh…it was his fault!”. Defender pointed to the man in a black exoskeleton that just walked out of the kitchen, with four beers in his hands…claws…something.

– “What are you talking about? It is your music, I am just here for our regular Dr. Destroyer afternoon. Turn on the TV, the Dr is on any minute now!”. Black Talon looked a bit miffed, but put down the beers on the table by the sofa and flung himself into the nearby armchair, almost breaking it.

– “It is Dr Destroyers fault, he placed the music here to drive the Qularr crazy!”. Defender looked very small and did not keep his eyes still on anything for more than a fraction of a second.

Bongo sighed. “So you are blaming the issues here on a daytime TV psycologist? I cannot say I like Dr Destroyer’s shows with all that end of the world or rule the world crap, but that is a bit thick, don’t you think?”

Bongo tried to straight up a bit and walk with a slightly noble posture (which was a strech), like he had seen in those Poirot movies.

“First of all, that…music…is coming from your media center and your apartment, which Ironclad had hooked up to his ghetto blaster. How would you explain that Dr Destroyer, or Black Talon for that matter could come into your place and set up this things without your approval or knowledge?! It does not make sense!”

“Second, your taste in music has been proven again and again to be a bit lacking, while the Qularrs have shown again and again what really good music is all about. No wonder they are rioting on the streets. This has to stop now.”

Bongo ran across the living room ans smashed the Media Center to pieces. Then he followed the cords leading out of the window to Ironclad’s ghetto blaster and cut them in two with a swift move.

Bongo pointed to Defender. “You might want to be somewhere else while this cools down – Canada, the desert – I don’t care. I will talk to the Qularrs and try to smooth things out. You should have known better when you moved to the Qularr quarters. Talk about pissing off your neighbours”.

Bongo jumped out of the building and headed off where he expected the mayor to be. All in a days work for a Real Hero. Why did that old lady look a bit weird at him? Oh crap, he had forgotten about that other cat…

(end of story)

Note: In my mind there was a flaw in the logic of the story in the Champions Online tutorial zone, which inspired to write an alternate story for fun. I promise I will buy Defender a beer next time I meet him in game, no hard feelings eh?