Me vs. Count Vertigo

 

Marvel Comic's Count Vertigo

Ahhhh, so it comes to this.  The laying of a trap for the villain.  Will we be able to lure him in and finally destroy him once and for all?  That, my friends, is the million dollar question.  He’s a familiar enemy, Count Vertigo, as we’ve danced this little dance before.

My posse of Superheroes and I have learned a lot since our last meeting.  The Count is not coming for my good ear, at least not for now.  His intents are on complete destruction of the one he came for in the first place.  He’s not going to make it an easy defeat.  Digging deep, we’ve thrown every weapon imaginable at him and while he may slink away briefly, he comes swooping right back in with his evil villain laugh and “Ka-pow!”  We lose another battle.  I stand up, my army of heroes behind me, another weapon in hand, and “Bam!” knocked down again.  On occasion, I am taunted with what appears to be victory only to be reminded in the days that follow, that it was fleeting.  A little tease of what life would be like if the Count were gone forever.

This is the scene of my little pretend movie where you, the viewer, would be tense.  Eyes intensely focused on the screen.  Perhaps, yelling out, “don’t give up!” or “Get ‘em, girl!”  Maybe you’re the quiet type and while wringing a tissue through your hands, you’re saying to yourself, “this can’t end this way.  The good guys always win, right?”  In the movies, yes.  I imagine my life to be a movie for that reason alone.

I withdraw, go into hiding, rebuild the mental and emotional fortitude that will be necessary to finally, once and for all, have complete victory.  A meeting is necessary.  A meeting with my top advisor.  The man in the white lab coat cape and the matching shock of thick, white hair.  From behind his glasses, he says with a resigned tone to his voice yet a steely resolve, “it has come to this.  Odds are 90% that it’ll work, but there will be sacrifices to be made.”

“Sacrifices?” I ask. “What kind of sacrifices?”

He lays his comforting hand on my knee, leans in and begins to tell me of his plan.  He has defeated the Count on many occasions.  He has one more weapon to try.  One he almost never uses because he almost never needs to.  He’s that good.  There is great comfort to be had in that.  The plan, you ask?  Impatient, are we?

My humble hero in the lab coat has access to the chemical that Count Vertigo cannot stand.  A Kryptonite to Superman, if you will. I smile cautiously.

“Yes!” you yell, “use it.  Kick his tail!”  But remember, this comes with a price.  No victory is that easy.  This chemical will be injected into the very ear upon which the Count has already wreaked havoc.  There is serious irony here.  This chemical will continue the very same thing that the Count has already begun-destruction of the balance nerve.  This chemical may also further destroy the hearing nerve.

“Wait a minute, that’s what He wants!” Exasperated you sit back in your seat.  Who wrote this movie anyway?  What kind of plan is that?  Hang on, dear friend, hang on.  This is my little movie and like any good movie, I gotta drag things out.

Back to my meeting.  I take a deep breath and ask how such a seemingly absurd plan will help me.  Therein lies the beauty.  It’s a trap!  We will lure in the Count.  Upon the injection of this chemical, he will be drawn in and will not be able to resist one last battle.  He will likely unleash all that he has in his euphoric haze that the chemical will cause.  While he whirls and twirls and sends out his signals with his devious little electronic implant that cause vertigo, nausea, misery…the chemical will secretly be destroying him.  If all goes well, he won’t notice until it is too late.  I picture this scene to be similar to the scene in the Wizard of Oz when the Wicked Witch gets water poured on her.  “I’m melting…” and she disappears into a harmless steam swept away by the slightest breeze.

“Let’s do this,” I say without hesitation.  I lean back in the chair in our superhero headquarters, turn my head to the side.  My last vision a blur of a white labcoat and hair moving around the room, preparing the syringe.  I close my eyes, squeeze my trusty sidekick’s hand, as I feel the cool liquid seep in.  I feel it moving deeper and deeper.  Tickling, crackling, as it moves through.

The sacrifice has begun.  Will it be worth it?  Stay tuned to find out…