Rubber Maid: Unstable

Someone Like You<br><br>�So,� the chief said,
looking at the assembled officers in the squad room,
�there we have it. A number of bizarre robberies, with
-- I hesitate to say this � seemingly impossible
entries. Doors locked, all manner of alarm systems, both
institutional and home, but regardless, the stuff was carried
off.� He paused, as a patrolman raised his hand in the
front row. �Yes, Kozinski?�<br><br>�What was taken?�
<br><br>The Chief scratched his head, and coughed. He seemed
almost embarrassed. He shuffled his feet, and shuffled
his notecards before replying, a final-throat
clearing before he began.<br><br>�Item 1: From a local
bank, five hundred thousand dollars � in
pennies.�<br><br>He didn�t look at the officers to see their
expressions. He felt the incredulity, like a wave. He shuffled
and coughed again.<br><br>�Item 2: From a private
residence � several large, jumbo-sized stuffed animals.� He
wouldn�t let himself be stopped this time.<br><br>�Item 3:
An industry-sized vat of chocolate syrup, from a
confectionry plant.�<br><br>�Item 4: From the local grocery:
an entire freezer case worth of Hagen-Das. Their
entire stock. And �� he puffed out a breath, relieved it
was over �� that�s all we know. No fingerprints,
fluids, or any samples of hair. The one possible clue is
this: the lab techs suggest the lack of evidence may
suggest some kind of plastic sheeting or surgical wear.
Booties to avoid footprints, that sort of thing. No other
ideas.�<br><br>He looked over the sea of faces again. It pleased
him to see they were being professional about this,
and not ridiculing him. �I won�t lie to you. It�s
bizarre, and there�s certainly not much to go on.
Nonetheless, a crime has been comitted. But I trust you�ll
follow all the usual procedures. And, with a little
luck, we can bring this to a close quickly.� His eyes
settled on the dark-skinned young woman in the front row.
�Detective Mord,� he said, raising his voice to indicate she
was being summoned, �could I see you in my office,
please? The rest of you are dismissed.�<br><br>Rhonda
Mord, the pliable policewoman known as Rubber Maid,
entered the Chief�s office and shut the door behind her.
�Please be seated,� the Chief said. His voice was
professional, and didn�t sound particularly hostile. The rubber
woman sat, while the Chief regarded her over the rims
of his glasses.<br>He raised a hand as he saw her
mouth begin to move, wishing to forestall all
questions.<br><br>�To put you at ease, Detective, you are not, nor have
you ever been, considered a suspect. I will admit I
did go through the usual process of elimination; no
sense being sloppy. I know you, Rhonda, and we�re both
familiar with your talents and off-duty pursuits. You�re a
good cop, your record is flawless, and I see no reason
to change that opinion. And, we both know you have
solid alibis for all the crimes in question. That�s not
why you�re here. I wanted you to know that.� He was
rewarded with one of her bright smiles, but also saw her
shoulders relax, ever so slightly.

I�m relieved,� Mord said. �It did cross my mind,
me being Rubber Maid and all, you would arrive at
the same conclusion I did. I could have committed
those robberies. The �impossible entry� isn�t all that
impossible for me.�<br><br>The Chief nodded. �Also, that�s
why I want you working on this case. Your insight
could give us some clues as to method. As to WHY �� he
shrugged. �That�s something else. I�ll give you a list of
the guys working on it. You�re reasonably well-known,
so we don�t need to be too hush-hush.� He passed her
a piece of paper, saying �You know all of them, so
there shouldn�t be a problem. Let me know if there
is.�<br><br>Rhonda�s head and elongated neck squeezed itself out of
the sprinkler spout, and snaked down to where
Detective Rushton Sparks was looking up at the
confectionary�s warehouse ceiling. He was unsuprised by the sight
of a woman�s head on the end of a forty-foot neck
half-looped over his shoulder. He half-turned from her,
looked at the long strand of ductile detective emerging
from the spout, without expression, and nodded. �I
think you�re right � is there something special I
should be calling you right now?�<br><br>Rhonda
stretched herself further, as a courtesy, eliminating
Rushton�s need to turn his head back and look at her.
�We�re colleagues. That�s it. No change.� Her voice
softened. �Does this bother you?�<br><br>�Nope. I�ve seen
freakier things after a bad bean burrito and chunky
five-alarm chili at midnight. No alarms on the sprinkler
system, so I guess you�re right. I think we are done
here.� He paused, pacing slightly, Rhonda�s neck draping
around his shoulders and dragging like a living fur
stole, or feather boa. �Wish I could figure out the
fingerprints, though.�<br><br>Rhonda drew back slightly. �Hold
on, I�ve got a theory about that too.� She stretched
the rest of her body through the pipe like
toothpaste, until her shoulders and upper limbs popped free,
swelling to their normal proporations. She held an elastic
hand in front of his face, palm up. �See my hand?
Watch.� She concentrated, and her hand became smooth,
featureless. Her fingerprints and the line of her palm, were
neatly erased. Sparks prodded it curiously. �Still feels
like flesh, though. The lab boys thought it was
plastic. Or at least, they said it had properties that
looked like plastic.�<br><br>�That,� Rhonda said, �I
can�t help you with. Let me get down.� Her neck and
torso coiled itself into an upside-down Slinky, and she
relaxed, letting herself slip through the pipe, bouncing
with an audible SPROING, and popping back into her
proper shape, and onto her feet in the same motion. She
grinned and bowed, throwing her arms wide. �Ta-da!�
Sparks was still unmoved. <br><br>�Tell me Sparky, have
you got no sense of wonder at ALL?�<br><br>�That�s
what my mother tells me.� <br><br>They headed for the
car.

The Woman In Red<br><br>In the car, Sparks
suddenly stiffened, reaching for the radio. It crackled.
<br><br>�Calling all units, calling all units. We have a hostage
situation at the top of the Caoutchouc building at the
corner of West and Fulmont. I repeat, there is a hostage
situation at the top of the Caoutchouc building, West and
Fulmont. The suspect is described as a woman, Caucausian,
5 foot 7, hair black and cut in a pageboy, eyes
blue. Suspect appears to be wearing some form of red
full-body latex catsuit. She does not appear to be armed.
The hostages are a busload of twenty schoolchildren
ages five to eight, twenty all told. They are
unharmed. SWAT is en route to the situation. Calling all
��<br><br>Sparks and Mord looked at each other. Mord, behind the
wheel, nodded to the unspoken question. �That�s two
blocks away. Let�s punch it, Sparky. Let�s see how Ms
Fetish Freak deals with the REAL long arm of the
law!�<br><br>Sparks, pressed back in his seat from Rubber Maid�s
acceleration, was too busy hanging on for dear life to
respond.<br><br>SWAT had cordoned off the area under the building, and
the reporters and all-too human rubberneckers had
been pushed back a respectable distance. Mord, costume
covered by a trenchcoat, and Sparks flashed their tin,
moving forward to speak with the SWAT commander. When
asked the questions about demands, the squat,
barrel-like man shook his head.<br><br>�There�s a ransom
demand. To be paid in FOIL-COVERED CHOCOLATE COINS, and
MONOPOLY MONEY. She says, if the ransom isn�t met, she�s
sending one of the kids down to the pavement. It sounds
nasty.�<br>He lifted a phone to his ear.<br><br>Mord and Sparks
locked eyes �Do you think �?� his gaze
said.<br><br>�Absolutely.� her eyes responded.<br><br>�HEY!� boomed a voice
from somewhere up in the clouds. It didn�t sound
amplified electronically, but it carried well, despite the
distance. �THE FIFTEEN MINUTES ARE UP, LITTLE PIGGIES, AND
YOU DON�T HAVE MY CHOCKIES AND PAPER MONEY! I TOLD
YOU THIS WAS GONNA HAPPEN � KID MEETS PAVEMENT!
BYE-BYE, KIDDIES!�<br><br>Shrieks from the crowd. The SWAT
team tensed up, shoving back the people attempting to
crowd in. Rubber Maid gave a surreptitious neck
stretch, trying to peer through the smog and smoke, but
even at fifteen feet she could see nothing, trying to
spot a falling body she could get to and cushion, but
still, there was nothing.<br><br>The SWAT commander
gulped a teary, choked �No,� and stared at his useless
phone.<br><br>All sound, all motion ceased. People strained to see,
to hear, faces the colour of cheese. Then they heard
it.<br><br>Sparks frowned. �Does that sound like�giggling to you?�

Rhonda curled around and stared. She�d heard him
quite well. �Yeah, it does.�<br><br>They all heard it
then. It WAS giggling.<br><br>Two young children, a boy
and a girl, descended through the clouds. Their
cheeks were distorted by lollipops the size of their
chubby fists, and they popped the damp sweets from their
mouths every so often to fall into each other�s arms and
giggle.<br><br>They were cradled in what looked like a swing,
supported on long ropes of what looked like � Mord noted
this with PARTICULAR interest � red latex. As the
chair passed her, she saw it was formed of a pair of
hands, fingers interlaced, and inflated to larger than
normal size. She felt the click of connection in her
cop�s brain. She swiveled her elongated neck, and
stared down at Detective Rushton Sparks. They might have
been alone; everyone else was in awe, watching the
cheerful, happy, and quite healthy children descend in
their living chair.<br><br>�Tag,� Mord said lightly,
�she�s it. Care to bet it�s some other elastic freak
doing this?� Rushton smiled, half-relief at the
children�s safety, half cop-on-the-hunt, and shook his head.
�Not at those odds. You get your OWN freak on, and
bring her in, Detective.�<br><br>As Rhonda shucked the
trenchcoat with ease, and began to bounce and spiderwalk her
way up the side of the building, she heard the
woman�s voice drifting down. It sounded mock-sad, and had
a manic energy running through it.<br><br>�THERE!
THERE! YOU SEE WHAT YOU MADE ME DO? WE WERE HAVING SUCH
FUN UP HERE, BUT NOOO, YOU PARTY-POOPERS HAD TO
DECIDE THEY�RE BEST WITH MUMMY AND DADDY DIDN�T YOU? RUN
ALONG KIDDIES, AND HAVE A GOOD LIFE NOW! THE REST OF US
ARE GOING TO STAY UP HERE, AND HAVE FUN. I STILL WANT
MY CHOCKIES AND MONEY THOUGH, OR I SEND ANOTHER KID
HOME TO A DULL LIFE WITH THEIR PARENTS!�<br><br>Rubber
Maid found herself pacing the retracting arms as she
zipped up the side of the building. They were completely
covered in the red latex-like substance; not even nails
were visible. It was a pretty close race.<br>Snapping
like a rubberband, she flattened herself like a sheet
� the air currents at the top were were stiff,
compared to the calm formed by the building�s bulk, and
glided herself to an abrupt landing.<br><br>The kids all
sat together, like they were at a school assembly.
They weren�t bound, and many of them were also sucking
on lolipops, or eating Tootsie Rolls, or ice-cream.
She noted tubs of Hagen-Das were stacked up in neat
rows and thought �So that�s were the stuff all went.�
Almost neat rows � several were mired in a melting slush
of ice cream that dribbled in sticky pools on the
roof. Some other children cuddled up to a selection of
large stuffed animals. And a series of cloth bags, from
which pennies were spilling.<br><br>And then, there was
the woman. Neck to toes in bright red latex, pageboy
hair dangling blackly around her neck, her back to
Mord. Mord whistled, and the woman�s head swung round,
neck stretching not unlike her own, to stare at her.
Bright red lipstick that matched her outfit. She looked
almost surprised.<br><br>�Police,� Mord said quietly.
�Let the kids go. You�re under arrest for theft, and
endangering minors.�

The woman scratched her head with an elongated
finger, and frowned. Mord noticed the manic sparkle in
her blue eyes � clearly she was psychotic, but,
judging from the way she�d �released her hostages�, not
necessarily psychopathic. �Endangering? What do you mean?
They�re perfectly safe. Look.�<br><br>Rubber Maid saw the
edges of the building were covered by a wall of thin,
semi-translucent, red, stretchy stuff. Her vault and glide had
taken her over it with ease, so she hadn�t noticed.
More than high enough to prevent the kids from falling
over it, but � she poked a rubbery finger into it, and
was surprised at the amount of give, but not
convinced. �Doesn�t look safe.�<br><br>The woman smiled.
�D�you know anything about polymers, or polymer
compounds?� Her voice, though manic also sounded authorative.
Mord reminded herself that insane didn�t mean
unintelligent, either.<br><br>�No.� Rubber Maid
admitted.<br><br>�Then don�t worry about it. Trust the Unstable
Molecutie � it�s safe.� Another grin. �I was waiting for
you. I was kind of hoping you�d show up.�<br><br>�You
know me,� Mord deadpanned. Great, my own supervillain
nemesis, she thought. And her own elastic�s
LOOSE.<br><br>�Sure!� The Unstable Molecutie said, hands moving
animatedly. A glob of red, rubbery substance had formed
between them, and she was passing it unconsciously from
hand to hand, then bouncing it like a ball. �You�re
The Woman From Glad.�<br><br>Mord�s jaw dropped. �I
beg your pardon?�<br><br>The woman pouted. �I was
sure that was it.� She shook her head, and waved a
hand distractedly. Then she snapped her fingers, thumb
and hand inflating. The ball splatted limply to the
roof and stuck there. The sound more like a popping
balloon. �Got it!� She cocked her hand like a gun,
pointing at Rubber Maid. �Tupperware Broad. THAT�S
it!�<br><br>�Nuh-uh,� Rubber Maid said, shaking her head. �Try again.�
She was grinning in spite of herself. The woman�s
manic humour was infectious.<br><br>�Saran-Wrap Lass.
GOTCHA!� Two balloon-pops this time. A grin. Mord
suspected she was unconsciously stretching her mouth, to
grin that WIDELY. �Tell me I�m wrong!�<br><br>�Okay ��
The woman leaned forward expectantly. �You�re wrong.�
She literally laughed when the woman�s jaw sagged all
the way to the roof. �Enough with the long face,�
Mord said, and slapped her hand over her mouth to
smother the giggle. Did I just SAY that?<br><br>�How
about I guess your name?� The woman shook her head
violently, neck twisting on itself like a spring. Her voice
gravelled, in an imitation of James Cagney. �Put bamboo
shoots under my fingernails, but you�ll never drag the
name Polymer out of me you dirty
rat!�<br><br>�Polymer!�

Mord tensed when she saw Polymer�s arms elongate,
and snake over to the children. Tendrils emerged, and
shaped themselves into earmuffs, fitting snugly over all
the kids�s ears. Polymer took a deep breath, and
leaned over her self-erected barrier.<br><br>�DRAT!� she
yelled. �Oh, SHOOT! DARN IT TO HECK!� Then she
straightened up, her arms retracting and releasing the
children. �Sorry about that. Can�t have the kids exposed to
bad influences, can we?� The Cheshire Cat smile
again.<br><br>�Um, okay,� Mord said. �Listen, that trick with the
goop you did?�<br><br>�Yeah?� Polymer looked EAGER,
Rubber Maid saw uneasily, like a young puppy
dog.<br><br>�Can you make a kiddie slide out of
that?�<br><br>�Sure,� Polymer said slowly. �But I got a better idea.
Grab my legs.�<br><br>Mord grabbed her legs,
reluctantly. Polymer giggled and wrapped her legs snugly
around her, encircling Mord from her neck to her ankles
in pneumatic coils, her feet tickling and wiggling
Rubber Maid�s ears, pinching her cheeks like hands.
�Cootchie-coo! Isn�t this fun?�<br>�Hey!� the pliant policewoman
protested, struggling to get her arms free.<br><br>�C�mon
kids,!� Polymer called. �Come have a ride on Auntie
Polymer! No pushing now!� She stretched herself as the
kids piled on, so they all securely fit, and had
secure �walls� to prevent them from falling off.<br>She
stretched her neck to Rubber Maid. �Grab the candy � oh,
never mind.� A HUGE hand scooped up the chocolates, and
passed them round. �Hold tight, now, kiddies!� A deep
breath. �And AWAYYYYY WE GO! WHEEEEEE!� Polymer�s torso
shot forward like a rocket, her elongated neck zipping
away like a falling Wile E. Coyote in a Warner
Brothers cartoon. Shrieks of laughter and pleased
giggles.<br><br>The ductile detective could have easily squirmed
free, but, she realised, that would have robbed Polymer
of a legitimate anchor point, and put the kids at
risk. Only one thing to do. She snapped her head
forward, like a head butt, and let her neck stretch with
the movement. She poured it on, putting every ounce
of her being into the stretch. She barely heard the
Unstable Molecutie�s �Howdy, girlfriend!� as she slithered
by.<br><br>Then her head broke through the clouds, and she saw
the crowds below them. No time for it. Her mouth and
lips pursed � then BULGED OUT into the form of a
megaphone.<br><br>�SPARKY!� Mord bellowed. �THE KIDS ARE COMING DOWN, AND
THEY�RE OK! GET THE SWAT BOYS READY TO TAKE THEM UP AND
GIVE THEM TO THEIR PARENTS! DO IT NOW!� She saw the
speck that must have been Rushton Sparks nod. Then the
clouds were rushing by her as her neck retracted.

 Loose Elastic<br><br> <br>Detective Rhonda
Mord rubbed and massaged her neck. The crowd was
beginning to break up, parents and children safely
reunited. Rushton Sparks looked at her with
concern.<br>�Does the Latex Lieutenant require assistance?� he
asked, tone light.<br><br>�Cute, though inaccurate,�
Mord said. �But I�ll be fine. Nothing strained, but
I�ve never done that so intensely before. Give me a
minute.� She blew air from her cheeks in a tremendous
sigh. �Any sign of Polymer?�<br><br>�De nada,� Sparks
said, and shrugged. �Looks like she got away. At least
we recovered the stuff, and no one was
hurt.�<br><br>�Yeah, I guess so,� Mord said. �But she worries me. She
wasn�t kidding when she called herself
unstable.�<br><br><br>The SWAT commander watched the rest of his team pile
into vans and pull away, then moved to his own,
private car. He moved to put his keys in the
lock.<br><br>�Well, THAT was FUN, don�t you agree?� came a voice from
nowhere.<br><br>His keys clanked to the pavement.<br><br>Something
squeezed up through the neck of his body armour and stared
him in the face. An attractive female face with black
pageboy hair, blue eyes, and dark red lips that pecked
him on the cheek. She regarded him
archly.<br><br>�You cops are always SOOO serious. All that
REPRESSION,� she cooed, as she unwrapped herself from his
body, becoming liquid, and flowing off of him. �Lighten
up. LIVE a little!�<br><br>Then, she was a puddle,
regarding him from the pavement. Her face rippled as she
grinned. �Oopsie. See ya,� and she began to flow away,
using the gutter of the pavement to increase speed.
Then, he saw a bright red ball puff into existance, and
roll sedately away at the kerb.<br><br>Then he heard
the CLANK, as the weight of his gun and nightstick
pulled his unbuckled and unzipped pants down around his
ankles.

END