The Dastardly Decadence of Crime Brulee [preview]

Chapter 1 - Prologue & Scene 1

PROLOGUE

Well hello there, you at home.

If you’ve landed here, it’s probably because you’ve an interest in the ongoing exploits of a one Crime Brulee, the renowned and reviled dastardly villain and fat-enthusiast extraordinaire. More straightforwardly, it no doubt means you, yourself, share the turn-of-the-century icon’s proclivity for plush, overfed bodies–either your own, or your lovers’. It matters more to some than others.

You must already know the story of our intrepid antiheroine’s greatest heist. You know, with the island, and the auction, and the destruction of Marge Maas and her entire shady company? And Rob Way’s daughter? You know, Rob Way, the golfer? And who could forget all that food, and all that flab?

But what if I told you there was another world, where it all happened differently?

In clicking forward, you agree to witness glimpses into this alternate reality, all curated by yours truly, and made possible with the marvels of modern technology and a bit of well-concealed spy equipment. Prepare to learn the answers to questions you might never have thought to ask, like, what if it had been Moira Way who headed up the mission that would take down CorpQuest International?

What if it had been Connie Conway who went undercover as a banquet waitress amongst the ranks of Abundance Catering’s experts in service and discretion?

These answers may surprise and enlighten you, but at the very least, I hope they delight more than they disgust.

As for who I am? I could tell you, but that would come with the risk of altering your timeline…and perhaps even your waistline.

And we wouldn’t want that…

Or would we?

Like I said, it matters more to some than others.

***

1. THE UNLIKELY DUO PREPARES TO DEPART

***

All in all, Kurt Kaufskey would tell you he’d had better days.

He’d certainly had worse ones. Like the two years he’d spent in captivity in the basement chemistry lab of his old gig at the US Heroics Division, drugged barely conscious and wrung dry for his secretions of truth serum. That hadn’t completely derailed his life, though. Sure, he’d gained two hundred and someodd pounds while hooked up to Uncle Sam’s feeding machine to keep him at the caloric surplus that activated the full potential of his power set, but eventually, rescue arrived in the form of Crime Brulee and her coterie of thieves, whose friendship had given him a whole new perspective on life. After joining forces with them, he found he actually really liked being a professional burglar. Until recently, he’d had no complaints about his time habitating in the bunker under a casino that served as their base. He still had his mobility, and Connie had tons of literature saved to the hard drive of her laptop to reassure him that unless anything started hurting or not working right, his health was likely in no immediate danger from the weight gain. And that was the thing: forcibly fattened though he may have been, he found, after some contemplation, that he didn’t mind the extra weight. Enjoyed it, actually. In fact, the idea of putting on even more gave him this spicy forbidden thrill.

Which would have been fine, if not for his new budding relationship with a fellow VA rookie.

Shadow Puppet was once the Division’s most promising recruit of the year in the greater Blackwater City area, until she was captured by Crime Brulee and company after a fight that broke out during Connie’s theft of a priceless artifact Under the influence of truth serum, she’d confessed a good deal of Division secrets, but even more interestingly, admitted to being in lust at first sight with Kurt. Which was lucky, because the serum was his semen. Like, it was semen. He really didn’t feel great about that, and he got nothing out of knowing what the people the VA interrogated were forced to drink, but he supposed it was better than letting Whirlpool punch information out of them with her fists encased in blocks of solid ice.

It had taken quite some nudging, both from Moira, the shadowmancer who’d joined up for protection knowing that the Division wouldn’t take her back after her capture, and Connie, who’d been encouraging Kurt to go after what he wanted with reckless abandon ever since he’d hopped on her payroll, for them to start dating. He’d been nervous. Spritely, gym-bunny blondes with impressive heroic records in the newspaper didn’t date fat nerds recovering from extended hostage situations. Except when they did.

And then it all fell apart.

‘So Connie says you’re getting fatter on purpose–?’

‘I mean, that’s a way oversimplified–’

‘So it’s true? How can you do this? Think about your health, think about us! Our future! Do you want to have a heart attack?’

‘Connie says heart attacks are like shark attacks, you hear about them way more often then they actually–’

‘CONNIE’S NOT A DOCTOR!’

Her words still echoed in his head.

At the end of the argument, she had dealt him an ultimatum: either ‘stop this nonsense at once,’ or lose her.

So now they were those two coworkers who dated and broke up and still had to see each other awkwardly at the workplace.

He was at his desk, in his room, reading Voltaire with the shot of whiskey Connie had asked him to opine upon as a possible new staple for the safehouse (though he suspected she just thought he needed a drink), when Moira came knocking at his open doorway. Catching her silhouette in his periphery, he turned in his reinforced swivel-chair to face her.

“Kurt, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“You’re rescinding your ultimatum?” he ventured, as slim as those odds were.

She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t, the timbre of her insincerity tripped his lie detecting powers like the bang of a gong.

“I get it. You think I’m a nutcase. What can I do you for?”

“The problem is Connie,” she went on. “You know that company that’s absorbing all that embezzled money from all over the world that her sister tipped us off about? They’re holding a retreat on some uncharted island and this idiot found my research on the staffing company that’ll service it. She got herself hired and plans to go in alone, masquerading as a banquet waitress, and try to steal what she can steal.”

Kurt’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Just her, against a whole island full of–”

“Aristocrats, world leaders…it’s a suicide mission,” Moira nodded. “So I’m going in after her.”

“And you’re telling me because…”

“I made a few phone calls, did a little hacking, and it turns out this whole vacation package is aimed at feedees and feeders. I bought two tickets out of the VA account; if I don’t want to get hit on by a bunch of unhinged fa–”

“You need me as a prop.”

“That’s not–!” she began to protest.

“But it kind of is, though?”

“Yeah, but you make it sound so ugly.”

Kurt sighed. “Can I just say something?”

“What?”

“You broke my heart.”

She scuffed her foot against the ground.

“But I’ll do it for Connie.”