Marvel Mayhem

Chapter Twelve: Liberty Base

            Genevieve's eyes snapped open with a start. A faint glow in their pupils had dispersed after a few short blinks. There was not much she could remember before waking up to the tune of The System's "Don't Disturb This Groove" on a waterbed no less. Her body wavering on the flotation mattress did not help much for the intense headache she woke up with. Nonetheless, she made an attempt to sit up. Doing so, she quickly discovered the black silk pajamas she somehow got into. Surprisingly, they were just her size.

            From the pajamas to her surroundings, Genevieve's headache intensified at the lavishness of the room she was in. If the System was not enough of a 80s overload, the room's reminiscence to some type of love suite (complete with a working fireplace, a bar, an analog television set, a functioning jukebox that played the System's song, and a bear-skinned rug) surely was. Her first inclination at this eyesore of a scene was that she did send herself back to the 1980s; it was clearly the era that the room was established in.

            How did I get here, she thought.

            It was hard and painful for her to recollect anything before finding herself in this room and in a pair of pajamas that did not belong to her. All that she could manage to recall was a situation that involved Mindy and the Livingstons. But what was it?

            Suddenly, at the corner of her eye, she noticed an automatic sliding steel door open, permitting the entrance of an old, thin-looking man of average height with slicked back salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a black suit and sunglasses. He danced along to the System on his way over to the bar. He almost entirely seemed not to have recognized the fact that Genevieve was there, at least not until he slightly turned his head to the left.

            "Oh! Excelsior!" He exclaimed in a voice that was very energetic for his age. "How ya feelin', kid?"

            Genevieve dodged the question with one of her own: "Who are you?"

            "Agent Stan. I've been caretaker of Liberty Base for well over fifty years. It didn't used to be this swankin', I can tell ya. The two young agents that used to be stationed here practically transformed it into a love lounge."

            Genevieve smirked, her eyes surveying the atmosphere once more. "Obviously." She then winced in pain, clutching the sides of her head. "Ooh! My head! How the heck did I end up here?"

            Stan was a bit bashful in answering that question. "Well, uh...it's not exactly a very 'PG' story, if ya know what I mean." Genevieve shot him an unnerved look at his questionable description. "Erm...well...let me put it this way: you've seen the movie Splash, right? It's probably before your—"

            "Yes. I've seen it. What's your point?"

            "Well, uh, you remember that scene when Daryl Hannah was butt-naked at the Statue of Liberty?"

            Genevieve nodded suspiciously. "Yeah?"

            "Well...replace Daryl Hannah with you and, uh, that's how you ended up here...only you were unconscious at the time."

            Genevieve, shocked and embarrassed by this, hid her face beneath her hands and muttered, "Oh, god."

            "I just thank Him for gettin' to ya before the authorities did." Stan followed this with a chuckle. "I don't think I've seen so many different varieties of cameras flashing at your bare behind. I wouldn't log into your Twitter anytime soon, that's for sure."

            Genevieve shook her head, her face still hidden. "Please stop."

            "Sorry. If it's any consolation, this base is sixty miles beneath the surface of Liberty Island. Plenty of necessities to get you through as long as I've been here. You'll never have to worry about showin' your face – or butt – in public again."