After they'd reached their room they found out their room was dully painted he must dull shade of brown Horrible had ever seen. Outside the window the colors sparkled in the sunset, horribly contrasting with the roach filled dump that lay before them. He turned out hoping to get away from this room as fast as possible, he could afford a better hotel than this.
But waiting for him were the 'Porter's express. Born with teleportation power's they were the leagues messengers.
"Bad Horse Chorus ( Re-Reprise)"
We know accommodations
Leave much to be desired
You must complete initiation
Or else you're fired
Announce an invitation
To this town's undesired
To drag others
in evil along
We need another
And they disappeared.
"A Villain Song? This assignment was only for a couple of days. What does Bad Horse expect you to be BachTor Horrible." Moist asked
"That joke is painful on many levels. But as for me, I minored in musical theory in college. I a… was also a musical theatre geek. Though I'm not quite sure what they meant by "another" villain song." The Doctor responded.
"You mean you haven't even…" Moist asked. But he stopped himself. Villains and heroes were often hired on their entertainment value, but few of either side liked to acknowledge that they were "performing" crimes.
"Well if I'm going to get ahead on this. I better start on this song if we've got two days to convince the mass unorganized low-lives to become mass organized low-lives. Hm… what rhymes with 'evil'?"
Moist headed down to the hotel lobby hoping that they could possible switch to a room with a de-humidifier. This somehow led to him getting the number of the handsome desk clerk. But Moist was still left to sweat in the hottest moistest day in August.
In one of the bar's booths he spotted three figures holding newspapers as to disguise their faces. This naturally meant that they were obviously up to ….. good.
An advantage to being Moist is that people didn't pay attention to him. People didn't want to pay attention to someone who was plain and wet as a guppy. He casually leaned up to the booth pretending to read the special menus ( Shrimp Malfredo, man they were desperate). A quick glance indicated the trio consisted of a large black detective, a brown-haired chef (technically he knew this due to the scent of strawberries and flour), and a red-haired woman he was sure he'd seen somewhere.
"Dead-Girl ,are you sure we should be here? This place is crawling with villains who won't take kindly to a PI who probably have locked away somebody's cousin?" the black man said.
"Well, we need to find a villain so our best bet is to look at this town's villain hangout."
Dead-Girl huh… he'd probably seen her on the GUG profiles somewhere.
"Well none of us are exactly low-profile among criminals. Is there any way we can get someone here who blends in more?"
"Ooh, Aunt Lily. I mean my mom. She looks like a supervillain with that eye-patch and she comes here on Saturday nights for Karaoke."
"Brilliant, Chuck. Tell her to look out for a 'blond, blue-eyed Adonis whose voice can move even the most terrified of bystanders.' Wait a second…. Who wrote this article?" the piemaker said.
"Hannah Rosenberg. She's actually the super-fan who leads the Dr, Horrible fan-club. So much for 'fair and balanced reporting'. There's about a paragraph here about the actual murder. The rest is just gushing about Dr, Horrible's talents."
"I think Olive's a super-fan. She loves talking about the musical talents in Los Angeles., but all of them have names that Start with Captain, or end with Girl." that girl who must be Chuck said.
"Well let's just see if she has some info on this guy. I have a daughter to support now so I can't screw up this case."
The three left, kindly recycling their newspapers into a mostly untouched as they walked out the door.
Moist felt for the man but he wasn't going to let Billy take the fall for another murder. He'd known that the story the press had reported was bullshit. But, Billy had taken the credit for it, killing Penny, because he wanted to change the world? Because her death had put him into shock? Was it that he couldn't let it be a meaningless death? But, Horrible wasn't a killer. Moist was going to find out what was really going on. Starting with the story on page 2.
Olive was shocked to discover that the homeless shelter wouldn't accept her pies today. Niki Grace was over her head with the Guild and the
"We have a murder investigation on our hands Olive, feel free to drop these pies off later, but right now we're about to receive envoys from The Guild of Good."
"Just my luck that the corporate tool was murdered in this homeless shelter, also my irony. Well I'm a detective so can I go through? I'm very experienced at this."
She wasn't. Emerson usually handled physical evidence while she interrogated the people related to the case.
"Well you better hurry up Detective Snook. The Guild will be here in less than five minutes." They want everybody out before then."
Olive quickly stashed her pies back in her bag. She dashed to the burn marks which marked the scene of the crime, taking a few pictures, babbling about ballistics while aware of Grace, staring her down. Niki looked down at her clipboard, while Olive took this opportunity to dash to the kitchen. She stuffed the pies in the fridge hastily. Unfortunately her escape plan was thwarted when she realized that the back door was locked.
"Sugar" she exclaimed. Her only way out was the front door, but the Guild envoys had already arrived. She waited for them to leave but overheard a very suspicious conversation.