Star Harbor Nights

All around Broker's, conversations died, only to be replaced by excited whispers and... in some cases, angry mutters. After months of absence, Pamela Entweiler, known to the world as "Pummella" after her triumphant performance on the reality show American Hero, had returned to Star Harbor.

She smiled her best TV smile, waving all around the room. If she noticed that not everybody was happy to see her eight foot, seven inch and heavily muscled frame inside the hero bar, she didn't show it.

"Whoa, do my eyes deceive me?" Broker asked sarcastically. "What could possibly bring a big-time celebrity like you here to see our little operation?"

"Oh, there's no reason to be like that," Pamela said. "I'm in town for a couple days... looking for new talent, actually, and I thought, what better way to show my love and appreciation to the community that supported me early in my career than by coming back to the old neighborhood? Show I've still got the old common touch, you know."

"Trust me, your touch's as common as they come," Broker said.

"And you're as funny as I remember," Pamela said still smiling. "But no need to stand on ceremony... tonight, I'm just another hero here for a quiet drink."

"So there's not a camera crew lurking around, then?"

"I told them tonight was going to be a 'me' night," she said. "I'm not completely dense. Anyway, I'd love to chat about the old days, but I see a lot of new faces that I'd like to meet... I think I'm going to mingle."

"Yeah, you do that," Broker said. "Meeting's still at three a.m., if you want to hang around for it... and if you think you can avoid stealing focus. We've got a lot of stuff on the docket tonight."

"The Bone Lord stuff? I heard about that. Don't worry, you won't even know I'm here," she said. "Though, of course, I'll be happy to lend my expertise as a successful superhero. I've already given aid to the Aquarius Foundation, and the DELPHI Institute..."

"Yeah, and coincidentally the studio donated a lot of money to those places, too," Broker said.

"The money stuff's not my end of things... but if you're suggesting my missions were faked, you're way off," Pamela said. "Sure, they edited the footage for the special to punch it up a bit, but that's show business. The TV show's got nothing to do with me being a hero."

"Glad we agree on that," Broker said. He turned away, heading towards a group of heroes in the corner. "You 'mingle', then," he said, over his shoulder.

"No need to get short," the immense woman said to Broker's back.

Two women approached. One was short and slender, dressed in a black martial arts-style outfit with gauntlet-like gloves and a black mask and beret. The other was taller, dark-skinned and athletic looking, dressed more casually in high-heeled boots, flared jeans, and a denim jacket over a white shirt.

"Hey, I don't know if you remember, but I'm D.J. Harmony," the taller one said. "I was spinning records at the launch party for your comic book?"

"Oh, yeah, I do remember you, actually," Pamela said. "We talked a little bit during your break... and... uh... I think you were kind of coming on to me." She giggled a little.

"Yeah, well... I wasn't," D.J. said neutrally.

"Well, we were both so drunk..."

"I don't drink."

"Oh, well," Pamela said. "It's great to see you here, anyway. You... you don't have powers, do you?"

"Yeah, kind of," D.J. said. "But the reason I came over is I wanted you to meet my good friend, uh... what do you call yourself, now?"

"You can call me Perfect," Perfect put in quickly, stepping up between the two. "I want you to know, Pummella, I've seen every episode of American Hero. I bought a DVR just so I could watch them over and over again."

"Well, aren't you a little sweetheart," the giant strongwoman said. "And it's Pamela, to my friends."

"Thanks... Pamela," Perfect said, giggling. "I was rooting for you from the first episode. Well, you and Echo, at first... but after you beat her in the arena, she just seemed like such a sore loser that it was hard to sympathize with her any more. That, and the whole... sex thing... she got into near the end."

"I think you'd be shocked if you knew how much of that stuff goes on in a show like American Hero," Pamela said. "Not with me, though. I was just getting over kind of a bad break-up... well, we didn't have an exclusive relationship, so I don't know if I'd call it a break-up. But he was a friend, and he said some really unkind things. So, while everybody else on the show was hooking up left and right, I just wasn't ready for anything like that."

"I can sympathize," Perfect said. "I'm kind of having a rough time myself."

"Well, why don't we get a couple drinks from the bar and we can swap war stories," Pamela said.

"Uh, Perfect, how old are you now?" D.J. asked warningly. "Eighteen? Nineteen?"

"I think anybody old enough to risk her life fighting crime is old enough to have a few drinks with her friends," Pamela said.

"Thanks," Perfect said. "But I don't really like the taste of alcohol."

"We'll get you a mudslide, then," Pamela said. "You won't taste the alcohol at all. Why don't you go grab us a table for two... I'm a little big for a booth... and I'll go get the drinks.

"Table for three, you mean," D.J. said, smiling sweetly. She put a hand on Perfect's shoulder. "We just ran into each other for the first time in months... I'd like a chance to catch up a bit more."

"The more, the merrier," Pamela said with a shrug, before she headed off to the bar.

Perfect kept her smile in place as Pamela turned to go, then spun around angrily at D.J.

"What's with the protective act?" Perfect asked her. "I already have one mother, thank you... more than one, the way my sisters act."

"I'm just getting a really bad vibe from her," D.J. said. "I know you don't have a lot of... social experience... and I don't want to see you get hurt, or taken advantage of, or..."

"Social experience? I noticed you weren't exactly swimming in friends at Avalon, either," Perfect said.

"I was a little out of my element, yeah, but it's not like I never had a friend before."

"Not like me, you mean," Perfect said.

"I didn't say that," D.J. said.

"Maybe that's why you're acting this way," Perfect said. "You got so used to being my best-and-only friend, maybe you don't like the thought of me hitting it off with somebody else?"

"Perfect, you are being ridiculous..."

"Am I? 'cause there's a rumor going around that I'm pretty smart," Perfect said.

"I heard that rumor, too, and I used to believe it," D.J. said. "But you know what? If you're going to be like this, you're on your own."

Pamela returned just after D.J. stormed away.

"Where'd your friend go?" she asked.

"I don't know, she's just being childish," Perfect said. "But let's not talk about that, okay?"

"Fine by me," Pamela said. She handed Perfect a frozen drink in a frosted glass rimmed with chocolate. "Wild slippery mudslide. Try it... it's kind of like a shake."

Perfect took an experimental sip. It had a rich, sticky, sweet taste. The alcohol was there, under the other flavors, but she figured it couldn't be too strong if she could barely taste it.

"It's good," she said.

"Let's get that table," Pamela said, leading her to a less-crowded section of the room.

"I wanted to tell you, I loved your undersea adventure special," Perfect said. "What was it like working with Dr. Aquarius?"

"It was incredible," Pamela said. "He actually contacted the producers before the last episode of Hero aired... my biological structure makes me ideal for undersea missions. I'm dense enough to walk along the bottom of the ocean, I can go down up to sixteen hundred feet of depth, my blood can store forty minutes of oxygen, and I don't get the bends. The funniest part is, before that, I always stayed away from deep water because I was afraid I'd sink. Not only did I have nothing to be afraid of, but I was missing out on an amazing experience. They're talking about shooting something in Hawaii next summer... if it comes together, I'm definitely going to visit some reefs."

"How do they plan your missions that far in advance?" Perfect asked.

"They don't, really... but there'll be something for me to do, I'm sure," Pamela said. "That's the nature of the business."

"Well, anyway, I just thought it was cool," Perfect said. "The footage from your helmet especially. I felt like I was fighting my way into the undersea base."

"They're already talking about adapting the whole thing into a pilot for the animated series," Pamela said. "Though, they're going to, you know, 'kidify' it a bit. Last I heard they were going to change it from Oghh sabotaging underwater communication cables to something called the Enemy Anemones stealing starfishes to power a starfish-powered ray, or something like that."

"The Enemy... and I thought 'Oghh the Hu-Manatee' was a terrible name," Perfect said.

"Well, apparently, there's some concern about whether we could legally use his name and likeness," Pamela said. "And since he's, you know, killed people, it might be considered insensitive to put him in a cartoon."

"I can see where that could be a problem."

"Gosh, we've been talking about me an awful lot," Pamela said. "Let's hear something about you. How'd you get started?"

"Well, I've been practicing to be a hero pretty much all my life," Perfect said. "I just kind of started patrolling on my own... you kind of inspired me, actually... but, anyway... I met this guy, we fought, and teamed up..."

"Ah, a classic 181," Pamela said, smiling fondly. "That's... uh... actually, in a round-about way, how I met Ray."

"Ray?"

"Yeah, the guy I mentioned earlier," Pamela said. "We had the whole sexual tension thing going from the get-go... we fell into bed pretty quick, too. There was never anything serious between us, but we had some wild times. I remember this one time... uh, you're looking at me like I just stepped on your puppy dog."

"You don't mean... Ray Vallenzio?" Perfect asked, somehow already knowing that she did.

"Yeah, how'd you... oh," Pamela said. "Oh boy. Sorry."

"It's okay, you couldn't have known," Perfect said. "And you knew him first so maybe I should be apologizing to you."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Pamela said. "I just... wow. I never would have guessed it. You're a very pretty girl, but you're not exactly his type."

"So I've been told," Perfect said. "But apparently 'his type' is pretty broad, including just about anything with a pulse... male or female."

"Men? That's news to me," Pamela said. "Though I shouldn't judge. I've had my share of... interesting experiences. I guess you must have fallen for him pretty hard, though."

"Yeah. I thought he'd fallen for me, too."

"When we got together, he made this big deal about how he couldn't be emotionally involved with a woman and how he cared for me deeply as a friend but the sex was completely separate," Pamela said. "He didn't give you that speech?"

"Never," Perfect said. "If he had, I probably wouldn't... well, that's not the way I always imagined losing my virginity. Too bad there's no second chances there."

"I used to think that way, too," Pamela said, patting Perfect's hand reassuringly. "Why don't I go get you another mudslide, and we can talk some more?"

Another mudslide? Perfect wondered when she'd finished the first one, but sure enough, the glass Pamela took away was empty. It must have been delicious, but she'd barely tasted it.

"Hey," D.J. said, sliding into a chair beside her. "I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean it to come out the way it did."

"It's okay, really," Perfect said. "How can I be mad? I'm actually hanging out with Pummella... and she told me to call her Pamela. And get this? We both kind of dated the same guy. That friend she talked about that she had the fight with... I've actually, uh, you know, fucked him. Can you believe that?"

"I don't believe I just heard the word 'fuck' out of your mouth," D.J. said. "But on that subject... have you seen the way Pummella's been looking at you?

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean I don't think she's interested in a new sidekick," D.J. said.

"That's good, because I'm not going to be anybody's sidekick," Perfect said. "I was so happy to see you here, because I really need a friend tonight... but if you're not going to act like a friend, at least I've found somebody else who will."

"Oh, your friend came back," Pamela said, upon seeing D.J. seated at the table. "How... nice."

"That's okay," Perfect said. "I think we were just about to leave."

"You were?" Pamela asked, looking crestfallen.

"We are," Perfect corrected, standing up. She took the glass from her and taking a big gulp of it. "Goodbye, D.J.... it was ever so nice seeing you again. We'll have to do it again some time." She swallowed more of the mudslide. It was a little like drinking a frozen candy bar. "Um, we'll go as soon as I finish this."

"Damn it, Perfect, give me that," D.J. said, grabbing the glass away from her. "You've had enough to drink all ready."

"Fine," Perfect said. "We'll just go now, then. Pamela?"

"Why don't we go out through the roof access?"

"Yeah, um, I've tried the rooftop stuff," Perfect said. "I don't think I'm really up to it."

"Oh, honey, you've never traveled with me," Pamela said. "Come on, the Pam Air Flight is now boarding at gate 1."

"Oh, brother," D.J. said to herself, watching the two of them head towards the door to the stairs, Perfect stumbling a bit. "If she gets herself street pizza'd, I am not telling the senator."