PowerhouseAmanda

As the merry margarita concoction starts to froth it begins to drown out the mirthful laughter of DD, White Owl starts to strain against the leather that binds her. Keeping one eye on the toy fish flopping off the scale- White Owl eases her weight against the leather, first the leather around her ankles, then her calves. The leather does seem to have some give perhaps expanding in the liquid slush… Suddenly White Owl hears something over the whine of the churning blades below her. A knocking... faint... She stops to listen. Maybe she imagined it. She now has a little space around his ankles and can move his calves against the binding. Knock Knock Knock! She hears it again. Now that is unmistakably a different sound. But where is it originating from? Behind her. She strains to look. Is is DD looking to taunt him some more before he meets his fate? What a loser, White Owl thinks. But no... who is that? The margarita mix has quite the frothy head on it and it has started to ride up and obscure parts of the glass but through the haze and struggling as she might against the straps... is she imagining this?? How the heck?? "Hello White Owl!” Power Princess says as she whirls around to the front of the giant blender, springing into White Owl’s view. "A tad dramatic aren't you, Owlie? If you wanted to meet up for some girl time and drinks you could have just texted me" she says with a grin, apparently completely ignoring the dire circumstances White Owl is encased in. "Power Princess- What are you doing here? And where’s Powerhouse?” "Sorry you’ll have to make do with me- Powerhouse is out for the count recovering from a nasty head cold curtesy of Baron Chill. So I’m flying solo- ya could be a little happier to see me you know!” PP grins and winks in White Owl’s direction. "I want to say I am happy to see you, but I'm not 100 percent sure that is true." White Owl says continuing to struggle and recounting the sidekick’s history of incompetence. "Aaawwwww, why not? Well, I am happy to see you. ...In all seriousness I do owe you and you seem to be running out of fish." Power Princess says as she observe the third to last toy fish dangling from the contraption. "Noooowwww how does one turn off this merry mixing machine?" She starts to circle the blender but notices that there doesnt seem to be an off switch. "Diabolical, Doctor! You do do that voo doo that you do so well. No off switch!" With that White Owl starts to truly struggle against the leather, a bit panicked. Her ankles and calves are seemingly able to be slipped free but the numbness of the frozen liquid is beginning to take its toll on her extremities. "Ahhhhh here's the answer. Hold on my feathered friend, I apologize in advance if you think I am giving you the cold shoulder but I assure you this is a warm welcome disguised as a glacier." “What on earth do you mean-“ White Owl’s question gets quickly answered as Power Princess starts poking buttons as she lifts the lid and centers the ice tube into the blender. Giant cubes start to descend, splashing White Owl with frothy margarita. "What are you doing??? Are you adding to my troubles???" She shouts. "Patience, precious…” One after another the giant ice cubes descend into the mix, getting closer and closer to the whirling blades but raising the level ever closer to White Owl’s wiggling chest. Power Princess starts to get nervous. There is a fine line between what she is trying to achieve and drowning her friend. Finally, she hears what she has been waiting for. A giant ice cube makes contact with the blades. She hears the hitch of the blade ever so slightly. Then another and another. The ice cubes are too large and start to jam the blades. The level creeps up to White Owl’s neck. It's a race to the finish!! Finally a loud clunk rings out as a particularly large cube firmly wedges itself between the blades and the bottom of the blender. "Finally!!" She yelps over the whine of the frustrated engine. Grabbing a workman’s ladder leaning against the wall produces an ivory colored knife from inside her boot and leans into the blender. "I gotcha I gotcha." She says full of glee at her success as she starts to cut the leather straps but she can only reach White Owl’s neck and torso. Will it be enough? she wonders... White Owl starts to wiggle the rest of her body out of the straps. As she leaves the last strap behind and starts to raise herself out of the blender the door bursts open revealing Doctor Deathtrap and his cronies!

“Oh good she is coming too..” “Right on schedule, get the lights on, I want her to get a full view of this.” The intrepid White Owl stirred slowly, the knockout gas that had rendered her unconscious dissipating from her system as the sequence of events that transpired before her nap flooded her memories. “Doctor Deathtrap!” “In the flesh, White Owl,” the tuxedo clad villain said with a small grin, “You come snooping in my facilities I can only expect that you are here for the full experience.” Doctor Deathtrap was renowned amongst the criminal underworld. A self-proclaimed performance artist, he earned millions of dollars manufacturing and selling ridiculous contraptions to the various costumed villains, eccentric mob bosses, and mad scientists who wanted to take out a nemesis in style. Rarely did he make himself present in front of a hero, much preferring to let the individuals he sold his wares to take care of things. His appearance could only mean that White Owl had gotten too close to his operations for comfort. “I suppose I should be flattered you are taking time out of your busy schedule to chat Doctor, don’t you have a rock to crawl under around this time of night?” The Doctor let out a mirthless chuckle, “I always have time for a test dummy my dear, and you do make a lovely dummy at that!” As the villain did his gloating at her expense, Owlie took a look at her situation. From what she could see she was trussed up tightly to a pole in the center of an oversized glass container. The pole was not attached to the floor of the container but rather suspended in the air by a pulley system. Heavy duty black leather straps held her fixed to the pole at her ankles, calves, knees, thighs, torso, and neck.. Her arms at her sides she could barely move an inch.. Most likely due to the gas still leaving her in a weakened state. And her precious belt was missing around her shapely waist! “What exactly is this DD, a fishbowl? I think you may be missing the sharks or the piranhas..” White Owl said trying to stall for time as she noticed the Doctor pulling out a remote. “This was something that was supposed to be used for Cinco De Mayo for some rather crazy characters in San Diego but i could always use a live test run to make sure its foolproof.” Click. Two large tubes came lumbering into view and were posed directly over the container. With another click both tubes spewed out ice and margarita mix respectively! Doctor Deathtrap watched with calculating mirth as his captive strained and pulled at her bonds to escape as the ice and booze filled her container rapidly. The fright of the quickness of the trap should have her trying as fast as she can to escape and if she couldn’t escape now- she wouldn't make it past the next phase. An intern made furious notes over his shoulder as they enjoyed the show. Her eyes clearly showed the panic as the ice packed in around her ankles, legs, waist.. She seemingly had seconds before she was completely submerged and yet it stopped just as it got to her hips.. “What’s the move here Doc? Run out of hooch?” “Oh you wish, you really are more a silly goose than an owl!” Click! “But a simple drowning is beneath me, for it to be a true trademarked Deathtrap we need a little more spectacle!” That click activated a large black lid descending from the ceiling, only space in the center for the pole to slide through it as it latched onto the rim of the glass container. Simultaneously to White Owl’s horror, the floor beneath her and the concoction opened up revealing several large and razor sharp mixing blades! “It’s a blender!” The masked maiden explained in realization! “Ahh you finally see the POINT!” The Doctor finally allowing himself to let loose, “Fortunately you are held aloft a few feet above it by the pole you are on! But rather unfortunately, the weight holding you up are these-” And with another click a light displays a flat mesh net containing a multitude of toy fish. “These toy fish are meant for cats.. The villain who ordered this intends it for El Gato, they are also remote activated and once they are they shall begin to flop around, one by one falling off their netted perch and reducing the overall weight which I’m sure will cause a… Drinking feeling for you mwahahaha!” “Well played Doctor..” White Owl said slowly processing her peril.. Brain and heart racing as she tried to think of something she could do.. “High praise from a heroine like yourself, but as you mentioned I am a busy man. I have to have a meeting with Ned Noir, he wants to actually DROP a house on Powerhouse, what a concept! I’d suggest taking a gulp of that margarita before you die.. Liquid courage and it is a rather delicious brand, the mercy of me not gagging you! Toodles!” And with that two clicks of that universal remote and the blades beneath White Owl began to churn at a furious rate, frothing the liquid- and the fish began to flop.. At once the pole she was stuck to began to wobble from the movement and destabilization of weight.. COULD THIS BE THE END OF WHITE OWL? WILL DOCTOR DEATHTRAP HAVE SUCCEEDED WHERE HUNDREDS OF FAILED? AND ON THE VERY FIRST TRY?

With a new name comes new great powers.. With great powers come great responsibilities! (Your responsibility of course trying to thwart me. 😉) Look forward to taking all you villains down!

On the outskirts of town, there was a massive outdoor storage unit on the verge going out of business. At least two hundred separate containers housing the personal effects of individuals and families who had not the room to keep it in their homes but simply couldn’t part with it. It was on an early weekday morning, so early the sun wasn’t even out when Penelope York, detective drove up to the complex in her vintage automobile (a 1936 Cord 81- Beverly-Hyman for those car junkies keeping score at home.) She had worked long into the night on the trail of some shadowy criminal network, one that she had been on the tail of for months now but finally had some clue to follow. It happened in a dive bar as she confronted a rather portly and sauced employee that Penelope had gotten the drop on. Percy McBratney, deep in his cups, was a noted henchman for hire and had been spotted fleeing the scene of one the recent string of jewelry heists conducted by this organization. Waiting for him to get up from his barstool to use the restroom, she quickly followed and grabbed his arm with a firm twist behind his back. He howled in fright and pain as she applied pressure pushing him up against the wall. “I’ll talk. I’ll talk!!!” he sputtered, bringing a smile to the sleuth’s face. “Well, do so quick chap and you may make it back to last call with your arm still in it’s proper socket.” With a trembling hand, he fished out a key from his coat pocket and passed it along.. “H-here, it’s where the stash is Honest!” The key ring also had a scrap of paper in which was scribbled on it- Superior Storage #4040 “Thank you kindly for your help. I’d suggest not following me, it wouldn’t be very good for your health.” she whispered with as much menace as she could, on a small level enjoying being able to menace a pushover like this.” She released her hold on him and made a beeline for the door, not a moment to lose! It was about a ninety minute drive to the storage unit and Penelope slowly drove down the rows of units looking for the right number.. “4036… 4036.. 4040. Bullseye. She pulled the car to the side and stepped out. It was dead quiet out in the countryside, the gravel of the road crunched beneath her boot heels. Cautiously, she looked up and down the pathways seeing not a soul.. She made her way over to the storage unit, jingling the key out. The key made short work of the lock and she let it fall to the floor. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle of the container and lifted it up with a heave. To her shock- the container was almost completely empty! Save for the support column in the center, an electric lantern illuminating the empty unit, an antique piano and a string hanging down from the ceiling- eye level with Penelope. At the bottom of the rope was attached a yellow Post-It Note which read in black marker: LOOK BEHIND YOU :) At once a loud rattling could be heard as the storage unit behind her rolled open. Penelope whipped around just in time to see five men stepping out- 2 armed with pistols, 2 with coils of rope, and the one in the center clapping with a smug expression on his face, “Congrats Miss York on taking the bait, so glad you could make it!” Blast, outnumbered and those guns trained right on me she thought to herself, begrudgingly raising her hands in surrender. “No one get jumpy now with those peashooters boys.” She quipped as they approached. The goons silently took their places- clearly well trained. The two with the guns stood diagonally in front while the ones with the coils of rope grabbed her outstretched hands and pulled them behind her back, tying her wrists behind her. They proceeded to lead her towards the support column and wrapping the rope around her and the pole over and over. “Well done I must say. I was not under the impression that peevish Percy was capable of faking me out into an ambush the way he squealed. And who may I say has the honor of capturing me like this?” “You don’t remember me!?” The man’s face turned violently red as his teeth gnashed together.. “You ruined my life and you don’t even remember me!” Penelope ever trying to keep a cool head quipped, “I’ve been at this for a while. Ruining scoundrel’s lives is my occupation. Perhaps you could fill in some details and jog my brain.” “My name is Bertram Sizemore.. You had just started out, I was running a lucrative operation working for Andrew Cunningham-“ Now that name rang a bell- Penelope’s career kicked off after that caper and seeing the heroin trade that Cunningham oversaw stopped dead in its dirty needle tracks. But he continued holding up some faded newspaper pages. “Headline read Amateur Sleuth Takes Down Drug Trade- Andrew Cunningham loses Empire” But I Took the fall for that.. Me! 20 years in the clinks with my name not mentioned till Page 5! I had to watch while the little whelp that caused all my misery became a sensation.” He took a moment to collect himself, savoring the moment.. “Twenty years gives a man perspective.. twenty years is plenty time to figure out the perfect way to take a lady of your stature down.” Her heart sank as she saw her car getting pulled in to the opposite unit that Bertram and his men came in from- she was hoping that it’s conspicuousness could have drawn suspicion. Bertram laughed watching her look on at the car. “That machine of yours is a beauty and in such good condition, must be killer on the petrol bill though, I’ll wait about a year or two and then fence it for a nice profit.” “And what exactly do you intend to do with me,” said Penelope already struggling and testing her bonds. “I thought long and hard about it. A woman whose dazzled headlines and made a name for herself, any death too big or splashy and well that’s another headline and I don’t ever want to have to see you after today.. but if I take care of you where no one will ever find you- well then you will just fade away into obscurity. So I purchased this storage facility to handle you personally and it is here you will stay.. forever!” By now the fiends had our fair heroine bound intensely to the thick column- ropes going from above and below her breasts working their way down all the way past her skirt digging into her tan stocking clad legs to her booted ankles. As she observed to her dismay all knots were tied off on the other side of the column- hopelessly out of reach!! With a snap of his fingers he had his goons wheel the piano over in view of Penelope.. “When you purchase a storage facility, you get all sorts of junk and rubbish from those who left their things behind in units. He went over to the piano running his hand along the top of it. “This is a genuine antique player Piano. Built to last, strong and sturdy. Metallic rolls placed in the center like so..”, he explains as he physically loads one in.. “and there’s no need for a pianist to play a fun tune!” One of the goons reached behind the piano and passed him a long spool of wire and the others began to roll the piano behind out of Penelope’s sight.. “Quite the novelty. But surely a subscription to Spotify is more practical..” she quipped, trying to stay calm and figure just what the devil this fiend was up to. “Yes but not as fun as one of these because I can’t do this!” He says from behind her before coming around with the wiring and looping it around the column loosely around our damsel’s throat! “The wire I’ve just played ring around the throatsie is connected to the player piano.. as the metallic roll spins playing it’s cherry tune, it will pull the wire tight towards it.. I’ve given plenty of slack for it to be a nice slow process but I’m sure as it comes around your neck, it will got from unpleasant to unbearable rather quickly.. slowly strangling you as a song dedicated to you plays.. Penelope began struggling mightily horrified at the prospect.. “You- You’re insane! Stop this!” “Stop this- I haven’t even started- don’t you want to know what song I’ve chosen? Hit it gents.” She couldn’t see but could hear the goons wind it up and the piano began to play a familiar ditty.. instantly recognizable- “Happy Birthday to you… Happy Birthday to you.. Happy Birthday dear Penelope.. You really are doooomed.” As she looked down she could see the wires dangling around her neck begin to ever so slowly contract.. panic set in- “Help! SOMEBODY HELP! Pleeas—MMPH!” Her shouts were quickly silenced by Bertram shoving the old newspaper clippings in her mouth and forced to stay in there as he ripped off several pieces of clear packing tape and smoothing them over her lips.. “Not that anyone is around for miles but.. what’s a good damsel without a sweet gag.” He sneers, the goons begin to file out.. “I’d say blow out your candles but from the way I’ve handled things you are just about snuffed. I’ll think of you every time I come by this way.” He steps out and snaps his fingers- the gate comes closing down and from the sound of metal on metal locked tight, leaving the bound birthday girl to her potential fatal end!