From:	Doctor Doom <JCH8169@*****.TAMU.EDU>
Subject:	Goetterdaemmerung! Part II
Date:	Sat, 14 May 1994 00:52:04 -0500

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The older man merely smiled. "Greetings, my dear Count," he said, his tone
overly pleasant. "I must congratulate you; few opponents have provided me
with quite so much inconvenience or diversion."

Trilo and I both went for our respective weapons, anticipating battle, but
Doom's held his arms out as though to hold us back. He barked in a commanding
voice, "NEIN, er ist mein!" We resumed our positions as Doom nodded slightly
to Ganz and said wryly, "'Twas the least I could do, given the circumstances."

"I particularly liked your use of Powerhouse as a pawn in your vain attempt
to put me into checkmate."

"Vain attempt?" Doom retorted incredulously. "You are /here/ are you not?
Further, as to Powerhouse, I prefer not to consider him a pawn, rather a
scalpel, to surgically remove your various minions."

"The exact metaphor is irrelevant," Ganz shot back, his tone getting colder.
"Whatever the interpretation, I am the victor, and I finish the game." Ganz
extended his palm to his bodyguards, who placed within it a chrome pistol.

We all prepared to react to this threat, but Doom just sadly shook his head.
"How you disappoint me, Ganz," he said quietly. "Let us finish the game,
but
let us do so /as men./" Doom's hand was now resting on the hilt of his sword.

Ganz regarded him quizzically, finally finding his voice, "Chivalrous to the
last, eh, Doctor? Very well, I shall kill you with the very archaic ways you
hold dear!"

Unexpectedly, a third party entered the scene, emerging from the brush between
the two men: a black man of about average height but solidly built. His
movements were fluid, almost predatory, as he approached the pair facing
off in the clearing. Aside from his impressive physical build, the other
remarkable features were that his clothes were blackened and burnt in several
places, and he sported a particularly large sword in a scabbard across his
back. Ganz's countenance had instantly changed his mask of pseudo-amiability
to obvious irritation. "Powerhouse," he muttered under his breath.

The newcomer apparently derived considerable pleasure from Ganz's sudden
discomfiture, and commented wryly, "Surprised, Ganz? I followed you here
with my trusty ol' BMW Blitzen. Gotta little cooked, tho' . . . but you
didn't really think I'd let you get away without saying goodbye, did you?"
His speech, much to my surprise, was marked with a pronounced English accent.

Ganz didn't respond, choosing instead to glare at the black man, almost as if
he were willing him to melt underneath his seething gaze.

Doom, however, betrayed no surprise at the newcomer's appearance. "Herr
Powerhouse," he said. "So pleased you could join us. I must commend you on
your efforts of late; your performance, as it has been related to me, was
superlative."

"Thank you, Doctor, but my business isn't quite over yet." he said, taking a
step forward.

Ganz, whose expression had drifted from irritation to anger, looked as though
he were preparing to launch a protest when Doom cut in. "Herr Powerhouse,
please, this has evolved into a private matter."

Powerhouse gave Doom a quizzical glance and then paused. Perhaps reconsidering
he said, grinning, "Oh, no . . . you don't understand. I wouldn't dream of
interfering, I'm just gonna make sure its conducted fairly."

Ganz, by now, had acquired a monosword from one of his henchman, and stood
ready. Doom was quietly reassuring his wife, who seemed unenthusiastic about
his going into battle following his confinement. Trilo inquired as to whether
or not he wanted to doff his coat and medals for combat. Doom replied in the
negative. "I won them in battle; I shall wear them in battle," he reasoned.

Doom stepped forward, sabre drawn, and saluted his opponent with an elegant
flourish of his blade.

Ganz chuckled coldly. "Always the same . . . always that bizarre stolid
Prussian chivalry, even when intermixed with imperious sabre-rattling."

"Some still guard the sacred fire of Honor, and when has Mankind experienced
greater need for such values than during these chaotic times?"

"They are archaic values of a bygone era. You know, it is a pity it came down
to this . . . with your obvious talents, consider what we could have achieved
together."

"You defile and denigrate all which I hold dear, Ganz. You worship at the foot
of the modern idol, Mammon. An alliance betwixt our respective forces is
inconceivable, as you would seek to corrupt me -- to be the Mephistopheles
to my Doctor Faust."

"Only owing to your stubborn cleaving to outmoded ideals! You have your
beloved Empire, but think of what other empires could have been built . . .
TRUE immortality!"

"Immortality exists only in the memory and hearts of others . . . and in one's
progeny. Although I swear that my House and bloodline shall outlive yours!"

It was Powerhouse who cut in this time. "Gentlemen," he said. "And I use
the
term loosely (glancing at Ganz, who suppressed a scowl), we are here to /fence/
with swords, not words."
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