TF (two-dimensional)
The best part of being a super-villain, Patricia thought as she looked admiringly at her reflection in the mirror, was the clothes. Definitely the clothes. Well, that and the myriad money-making opportunities, of course.
But man! She stared at the lilac pleather catsuit she wore, at how it clung to her every curve (and she did have curves), how damned shiny it was. The black boots with their flat heels, the short black gloves that would hide her fingerprints, the black belt around her waist that hid a variety of tricks. She liked. She liked a lot.
With a big grin on her face, she went for the final touch. The lilac eye mask. She pulled it down over her eyes. Perfect! No one would recognise her now. No one ever did recognise a super-villain with an eye mask on, no matter how small it was.
She was ready. Ready to start her new career.
All she needed was a super-power.
Oh, and a name.
*
“A name?” Vanessa leaned back in her chair and pretended to consider. “How about the Bumbler? Or the Pink Pussycat?”
Patricia stabbed out her cigarette and motioned for two more drinks at the waiter. “C’mon, Ness, tale this seriously.” She paused. “Why the Pink Pussycat?”
“Because knowing you I’m sure you’ll have a catsuit, and I’m sure it’ll be pink.”
“Lilac, actually.”
“Ah-hah!” Vanessa smiled in triumph and picked up her glass of wine. “I notice you didn’t ask ‘why the Bumbler?’”
Patricia lowered her voice. “Look, Ness, I didn’t invite you here to indulge in witty repartee. I need some contacts. I’ve done you plenty of favours in the past, now I need one from you.”
“And what makes you think I’d have the contact you want?”
“Mostly because we both know you’re one of the best damn accountants in the underworld. Investing cash for super-villains is what you do best.”
Vanessa raised an eyebrow, but her mouth quirked in a smirk.
“Besides,” Patricia added, “I kicked Tim in the balls when I caught him cheating on you.”
“That you did,” Vanessa acknowledged. “You’re right, I owe you. Well, I might know a mad scientist or two, at that.” She opened her bag and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here. She’s expecting your call.”
“Thanks, Ness!” Patricia beamed. “I’ll repay you for this.”
“You can start by ordering me another drink,” her friend said, hoisting her empty glass. “And … maybe showing me your catsuit.”
“Okay. But I’m not calling myself the Pink Pussycat.”
“Spoilsport.”
*
“Now tell me,” the woman with the eyepatch said in a heavy accent, “vhy you vant to be a super-villain.”
Patricia shifted in her chair. Her catsuit squeaked. She’d showed up at what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, to be ushered through to an amazingly elaborate lab. Run by this woman, of indeterminate age and nationality. Who she thought had died a few years ago, actually, when the Black Baron had been defeated by the Red Scorpion. Man, that had been a downer.
“Well, Dr Kessler,” she said, “first of all, there’s family reasons. My aunt was Lady Python, remember her?”
“Ah! Of course! How is she now?”
“She’s doing well. Out in Florida now. Can’t turn into a snake any more, of course. So I feel I’d be carrying on the family tradition.”
“Ah. Other reasons?”
Patricia considered. “Well, it’s mostly outdoor work, which I enjoy. I like being my own boss. I’ve always been into martial arts. It just seems like work that would suit me, you know?”
Dr Kessler smiled, a not altogether pleasant sight. “Plus you get to wear catsuit at verk.”
“That’s a plus too.”
“Okay then. You been to college?”
“Degree in mathematics.” Which had been of no use whatsoever, except introducing her to Vanessa.
‘Good. Develop logic sense. So, you look nice and strong, but you don’t mind if I run some tests? Check your suitability?”
“That’s fine.”
“Good, good.” Dr Kessler nodded and leaned back in her chair. “Actually, I might have deal for you. I give you power, you give me share of takings. Twenty-five per cent first year, 10 per cent second and third year. Plus, you do some light henchman work for me. Just a couple of times a year.”
Patricia nodded. Her eye mask slipped slightly over her eyes. “Sure. Only … what power?”
“Vell, I know scientist been doing work on trans-dimensionality. He make big breakthrough. So, I steal his invention.” Dr Kessler looked straight at Patricia. “You be my guinea pig, huh? Invention never been tested on people. But it verk.” Probably, she added silently.
Patricia nodded, even though she had no idea what Dr Kessler was talking about. “That’d be great.”
“Okay then!” Abruptly Dr Kessler stood up. “Ve test fitness, then, if everything okay, we put you in machine. You get super-power. Follow me.”
“Absolutely.” Oh wow, it was going to happen! She was getting a super-power! She grinned as she surreptitiously pushed her eye mask back in place.
“Oh, by the vay, what are you calling yourself?”
Patricia blushed slightly. “Uh, well, at the moment it’s the Pink Pussycat.”
Dr Kessler smirked. “Oh honey, we can do vay, vay better than that.”
*
Three injections. They hadn’t told her about any freakin’ injections. Apparently it was to enhance her body to accept the changes to her molecular structure, or something. All Patricia knew was she’d almost fainted when she saw the syringes.
Okay, that was over now. She was in the middle of this crazy chamber, her body being subjected to all kinds of weird radiation. She didn’t have any hang-ups about nudity, thank heavens. Not that Dr Kessler and her two female assistants were paying any attention to that. Although, Patricia did kind of wish she’d shaved her legs.
“I think we approaching the yellow level,” Dr Kessler announced. “You ready, Ms Patricia?”
Ready as I’ll ever be, Patricia thought. “Shoot!” she called out.
“Okay, then. Three … two …
And something came over her. As if something was leeching out of her. Her …
Her third dimension.
Something was happening to her molecules. She could feel her face, her breasts, her body …
Flattening.
She was flattening.
She glanced down at her legs, which looked like they were deflating.
Her stomach, usually pretty flat, was getting even flatter.
Her vision changed slightly, losing a little of her peripheral sight, although not as much as she might have thought.
She giggled at the thought of her ass withdrawing on itself. An image of someone trying to have sex with her in this condition popped into her mind and made her laugh out loud.
How was she standing up, anyway?
She hadn’t noticed the devices had shut off until the door to the chamber opened. One of Kessler’s scientists.
“Uh, miss, how do you feel?”
Feel? She felt …
“Fantastic!”
*
Thank God for all those hours at the gym, Patricia thought as she landed lightly on the top of the bank. Word was a big deposit of cash had been made this afternoon. Well, it wouldn’t be there much longer. She’d had a trial run of a few minor break-ins but this was going to be her first big haul.
With a thought she activated her 2D ability. She felt her body slowly sinking into itself from both sides until she was basically a life-size photo of herself, just a millimetre thick.
Dr Kessler had explained what was happening to her, how she was forming a temporary dimensional vortex around her body. Patricia didn’t care. She just cared that it worked. Every time she did it, it got easier, too.
She launched herself into the air and her paper-thin body floated down in a light breeze. She thanked heaven her eye mask hadn’t slipped down before she changed.
She landed perfectly, just where she’d wanted. Outside a door that would have been impenetrable to most people. Not her.
A crack under the door. She slid herself along the ground, then began to move into the tiny space.
Apparently with a little effort she could make herself even flatter. She’d look like an image projected onto the ground.
Patricia grinned. Look out, world. Flatgirl is coming!
Or … maybe Flatwoman would be better? More grown up?
She’d ask Vanessa when they met for drinks tomorrow.