Redd Ensign! and the Defenders of the Dominion!
CHAPTER 18: A SHADOW FALLS
The plaza in front of Chintzy’s, OGRE’s flagship mega mart, was a sea of people. The crowd, a vibrant mix of Royale City’s residents, buzzed with anticipation and a hint of tension. The makeshift stage was adorned with giant OGRE banners, and Prolix Beakenoff, OGRE's charismatic spokesperson, prepared to address the throng.
Prolix, decked out in a retro-inspired suit with wide lapels and flared pants, raised his arms to silence the crowd. His voice boomed through the state-of-the-art sound system. “Ladies and gentlemen, hip cats and cool kittens! We are gathered here today to celebrate the marvel that is OGRE, and the phenomenal advancements we bring to your everyday lives!”
The crowd erupted in applause, their enthusiasm palpable. Redd Ensign and Squire watched from the rooftops of a nearby building. Redd Ensign, with his scarlet toque pulled low, surveyed the scene with a mix of curiosity and determination. Squire, perched beside him, kept a close eye on the bustling plaza below. Soash had insisted Squire join Redd for the “strategic feng shui” of the rooftop view, though it was more likely that Soash wanted to mingle without his nephew around.
MONARCH agents were discreetly scattered among the crowd. Agent Banks moved with practised ease, her sharp eyes missing nothing. Merryweather leaned casually against a lamppost, muttering about how rallies used to have a proper sense of decorum. Machismo, exuding intensity, stood near the stage, ready to spring into action. Soash, resplendent in his yellow zoot suit, mingled with the crowd, his charm masking his ever-watchful gaze. Blake had cleverly disguised a newly invented jamming device inside a food cart that dispensed hot dogs. Rigid, pretending to be a customer and enjoy a hot dog, kept an eye on the stage while making occasional, discreet glances at Blake's setup.
Rigid raised an eyebrow as he bit into his hot dog. “Is it safe, sir?”
Blake shrugged, juggling a hot dog and a communicator. “Well, it hasn’t exploded yet, so that’s a good sign, eh?”
From their rooftop vantage point, Redd Ensign squinted and turned to Squire. “So, what’s the scoop from our agents down there?”
Squire, peering through binoculars and using MONARCH’s special sign language, began to interpret the flurry of signals. “Agent Banks says all clear so far, sir. But she’s keeping everyone on high alert. She suspects OGRE’s got something sneaky planned. Agent Merryweather’s reminiscing about the good old days when a trusty monocle and some intuition were all you needed.” Squire continued, interpreting Machismo’s enthusiastic flexing and thumbs-up. “Agent Machismo says the crowd’s getting lively, but nothing suspicious yet. He’s got his eyes locked on the stage.”
“And Agent Soash?” Redd Ensign asked, trying to suppress a smile.
Squire watched Soash’s dramatic gestures with amusement. “Uncle Soash is all about the good vibes and says he’s ready to jump into action if needed. Classic Uncle Soash.”
Squire glanced at Blake, who was still juggling his hot dog and communicator. “Agent Blake’s... well, he’s enjoying his hot dog and says everything’s fine so far.” He looked back at Soash. “Looks like I’m being summoned to join my uncle at street level.”
Redd Ensign gave him a thumbs-up. “Alright, keep me in the loop. I’ll stay up here and keep watch.”
Squire nodded and headed for the rooftop stairs. The stage was set, and the tension in the air hinted that the true drama of the day was just beginning.
Prolix took the stage, with Thorne delivering a grandiose introduction that did nothing to mask his disdain for the crowd. Messup, stumbling beside him, managed to make his way up the steps, only occasionally knocking into things.
As Prolix began his speech, his eyes swept over the crowd, landing on the scattered MONARCH agents. A smirk curled on his lips as he theatrically acknowledged them.
“Ah, BC’s top brass,” he said with a dramatic cough, his tone oozing with sarcasm. “I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence. I suppose there’s no far-out emergency waiting for you, like polishing the Vice Regal’s threads? Or maybe you’re just here to soak up some wisdom from the true master of persuasion?”
The crowd chuckled, though the laughter had a hint of awkwardness, clearly feeling the undercurrent of tension.
Squire, standing off to the side with his binoculars still trained on the stage, muttered under his breath, “Only a master of evil, Prolix.”
Just then, Soash appeared beside Squire, holding an OGRE brand ice cream. He took a tentative lick and grimaced.
“What’s going on up here?” Soash asked, with his usual flamboyant flair. “Man, is that fashion style dead? And what’s with this flavor? OGRE brand ‘Pressed Ham’? Yuck! The only thing worse would be if they started serving ice cream in plaid.”
Squire kept his focus on Prolix. “Uncle Soash, focus. We need to keep an eye on Prolix. This might be more than just a bad taste in ice cream.”
Soash waved his hand, the taste of his ice cream momentarily distracting him. “Oh, don’t worry, Squire. I’ll keep an eye on Prolix and his shenanigans. In the meantime, I’ll just have to endure this culinary catastrophe.”
Squire’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene. “Something doesn’t sit right, Uncle Soash. Look at those decorations—they’re even chintzier than usual for Chintzy’s. It’s like they’ve gone out of their way to be tacky.”
Soash, his attention momentarily diverted from his ice cream, glanced at the stage. “You mean that dreadful display? It looks like a bad circus tent. What’s the fuss?”
Squire pointed to the flags fluttering in the breeze. “It’s not just the stage. Those flags—look closely. The Canadian and British Columbian flags are all wrong. The colours are slightly off, and the patterns are misaligned. The maple leaf only has 10 points on it! They seem hastily put together.”
Soash wrinkled his nose. “Egads, you’re right! It’s as if they’re trying to make a statement by deliberately skewing the symbols of our heritage.”
“And the stage itself,” Squire continued, “it’s one of those ‘FlimsyStand’ brand factory-recalled models. Dangerous and unstable. It’s almost as if someone wanted it to collapse.”
Soash raised an eyebrow, his earlier charm replaced with concern. “False flags? Are they using these phony decorations and a shoddy stage to create confusion and cast doubt?”
Squire nodded gravely. “Exactly, Uncle Soash. It’s a setup. We need to keep our eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. This might be Prolix’s way of creating chaos or undermining MONARCH.”
Soash gave a final lick of his ice cream cone and grimaced again, his demeanour shifting to one of intense focus. “Very well. Let’s stay sharp and make sure we’re not walking into a trap. Our next move could be crucial.”
With that, Squire and Soash continued their vigilant watch, now fully aware that the event might be more than just a flashy display. The misaligned flags and precarious stage were clear indicators of a deeper scheme at play.
Prolix’s voice boomed from the stage, “You up there, the new and mighty hero of Royale City! Why don’t you join us down here?”
Redd Ensign glanced around, unsure if Prolix was addressing someone else. Seeing no other contenders, he decided to take the leap. With a series of acrobatic jumps, he landed on the stage with the grace of a gymnast.
Standing tall in his white tunic and red sash, Redd Ensign struck a heroic pose between Paradox and Oxymoron, who had manoeuvred their way to the stage. He tried to lighten the mood with a bit of small talk. “Quite the day for a rally, eh?”
Paradox, as always, responded with a twist. “It’s as bright as midnight and as dark as noon.”
Oxymoron, showing off his flexed muscles, added, “Perfect weather for a bit of organized chaos.”
Redd blinked, clearly baffled. “Uh, right. Well... carry on, then.” He turned his attention back to Prolix, who was now pacing the stage with exaggerated flair, clearly enjoying the spotlight.
Prolix launched into his diatribe, his voice dripping with charisma and a touch of hidden malice. “Royale City, my friends, has been shackled by the chains of an outdated monarchy for far too long! It’s high time to embrace a new order, a bold new vision that’s totally outta sight!”
The crowd, mesmerized, murmured in agreement, their faces glowing with enthusiasm. MONARCH agents, however, were momentarily thrown off by the crowd’s unexpected reaction to Prolix’s blatant anti-monarch rhetoric.
Agent Banks, her sharp eyes catching the shift in atmosphere, signalled urgently. “Blake, deploy your jamming device!”
Blake, frazzled but determined, fumbled with the controls. “Alright, eh. Here goes!” With a push of a button, a jar of Saskatoonberry jam rose from the cart’s counter. A knife followed suit, and soon two slices of toast were plunked onto the counter.
Banks’s face reddened with frustration. She signalled back, “I meant a signal jammer, not actual jam!”
Blake, looking sheepish, muttered, “I told JIM DANDI that’s not what you meant. That hoser always gets me in trouble!”
Meanwhile, the crowd, now fully entranced, swayed and chanted in unison with Prolix’s words. The hypnotic energy was palpable, and MONARCH agents were struggling to maintain their focus.
“Agents, something’s not right,” Banks signalled, her urgency clear. “We need to get to the stage, now!”
Merryweather, still muttering about bygone values, flapped his hands in exaggerated motions. “In my day, a rally had decorum! Move forthwith!”
Machismo, his muscles bulging with readiness, shouted, “Let’s rumble, brothers! Oh yeah!”
Blake, dropping his hot dog in a comical flurry, scrambled toward the stage. “Time to show these OGRE clowns what MONARCH can do, eh?”
Squire watched the agents gearing up to rush the stage. He tried shouting to Redd Ensign, “Sir, MONARCH is moving in! They’re going to stop Prolix!” But the crowd’s hypnotic chanting drowned out his voice. Determined, Squire raced to find Soash, who was deep in conversation with a lady who was under Prolix’s spell, oblivious to the danger.
Prolix, catching the commotion, grinned with satisfaction. He turned toward Redd Ensign, revealing a gleaming medallion that spun with mesmerizing patterns. “Redd Ensign, man, you’ve got to protect me from these traitors! MONARCH’s totally flipping on you!”
Despite the medallion’s compelling pull, Redd's sense of patriotic duty struggled against Prolix’s commands. Prolix raised the silver medallion high and chanted, “Behold the gleaming silver round, let its hypnotic sway astound. Your minds are light, your will is bend, like puppets on strings, you'll descend. Gaze upon this silver prize, and heed my words, to your surprise.”
Redd's eyes fixated on the medallion, a strange compulsion taking hold of him. Prolix’s voice echoed in his mind, dripping with persuasive charm and a hypnotic insistence. “Do your duty, Redd Ensign. Protect me from those groovy folks who want to bring me down!”
Amidst the mounting drama, Redd Ensign, fully captivated by Prolix’s hypnotic rhetoric, stepped forward. His usual exuberance was replaced by a glazed-over demeanour, his vibrant energy subdued. As Soash finally approached the stage, he faced an unexpected barrier: Redd Ensign, now an impromptu bodyguard for Prolix.
“No further, citizen!” Redd declared, his voice resonating with an unfamiliar, authoritative edge. “You shall not disrupt this messenger of vision!”
Agent Soash, who was usually unflappable in his arrogance, momentarily faltered. His flamboyant feathered hat tilted precariously as he took in the sight of Redd Ensign, now standing as a stoic sentinel. Soash, momentarily disoriented, retorted sharply, “Redd Ensign, you nincompoop! Snap out of it!”
Redd Ensign’s gaze remained fixed on Prolix. In a dreamy, almost reverent tone, he replied, “Oh, citizen, we have been but ships passing in the night. Now, Prolix’s words illuminate the harbour. of understanding!”
Squire, watching the unfolding chaos from the sidelines, felt a pang of dismay. There was his hero, seemingly under Prolix’s spell, and it was deeply unsettling. He shouted urgently, “Sir, remember who you are! Remember British Columbia!”
As Soash and Squire made their way onto the stage, Redd Ensign, now under Prolix’s command, effortlessly picked them up—one in each arm. But before anyone could react further, a loud creaking noise filled the air. The stage, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment (both literal and metaphorical), began to buckle. For a split second, everything seemed to hang in the balance. Then, with a resounding crash, the stage collapsed under its own weight.
The street erupted into chaos, a cloud of dust and splintered wood enveloping the area. As the dust began to settle, the scene that greeted the audience was one of utter disarray. Redd Ensign lay amidst the rubble, his chest heaving, his face smeared with soot. His once-pristine sash was entangled with streamers, and the debris of stage props littered the scene. He looked around, expecting accolades, but instead saw mixed expressions of shock and disappointment.
From the wreckage, Redd Ensign shook his head as if trying to clear his mind. With a weary sigh, he muttered, “By the waters of False Creek, that was quite the ride!”
Squire rushed to Redd Ensign’s side, desperately trying to untangle him from the wreckage. “Sir, are you alright?”
Redd Ensign, slowly shaking off the effects of the hypnosis and regaining his usual spirited demeanour, managed a reassuring smile. “Ah, mon ami! A minor hiccup in the grand tapestry of our adventures! But as always, we rise, dust ourselves off, and march forward!” He paused, trying to piece together the last few minutes but failing. “Now tell me, what happened?”
Before Squire could answer, Soash’s voice boomed over the crowd, filled with irritation. Whether it was the situation or a spot of dirt on his zoot suit that had him riled up was unclear. “Redd Ensign, what have you done? You've jeopardized everything we've worked for!”
The crowd murmured in discontent, their trust in MONARCH visibly shaken. Redd Ensign’s heart sank as he saw the disappointment and anger reflected in their eyes. For once, his usual optimism faltered under the weight of their judgment.
A shadow fell over Redd Ensign. He looked up to see Prolix, dishevelled and dirty from the collapsed stage, his smirk unmistakable. “Ah, Redd Ensign. The gallant fool. How noble of you to try, yet how utterly naive.”
Prolix turned to face the crowd, his voice smooth and dripping with persuasive charm. “Citizens of Royale City, is this the hero you put your trust in? A bumbling stooge who can’t even handle a simple shake-up? And what about MONARCH, the so-called champions behind him? Are they really capable of safeguarding our beloved city, or are they just as clueless as their front man?”
The crowd’s murmurs grew louder, uncertainty spreading like wildfire. Prolix looked back at Redd Ensign with a gleeful smirk. “You might have the heart of a hero, man, but you’re seriously lacking the smarts. Maybe it’s time to rethink who you’re putting your faith in.”
Redd Ensign, struggling with a sense of doubt, looked out at the crowd with an uneasy smile. “I... I didn’t plan for things to go like this,” he said, his tone wavering. He saw the disappointment in the faces of the citizens and felt his confidence waver. “Maybe I’ve got some things to figure out, after all.”
With a sigh, Redd Ensign turned away, his usual exuberance dimmed by the weight of his realization. “I guess even heroes have to take a step back sometimes. I’m going to... sort things out. Don’t worry, I’ll be back—better and stronger.”
He gave a half-hearted salute to the crowd, trying to muster his trademark optimism despite the uncertainty. “Farewell for now, citizens! I promise I’ll be back to set things right.”
As he left the scene, his steps were lighter but carried a hint of the self-reflection he needed to regain his true self.
Squire watched Redd Ensign walk away, a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes. He knew the city needed Redd Ensign, but the hero’s journey was far from over. Turning back to the remnants of MONARCH’s team, Squire steeled himself to confront their disappointment.
Prolix’s voice rang out one last time, “And remember, dear citizens, sometimes the grooviest threats come from within.” His words hung in the air, casting a shadow of doubt over the city’s protectors.
Soash, sensing Squire’s inner conflict, leaned in. “Ah, Squire, in the grand theatre of life, characters come and go. But the script,” he gestured grandly to the M.O.N.A.R.C.H. emblem on his bright yellow zoot suit, “the script remains.”
Squire, addressing Soash with newfound resolve, replied, “Sir, with all due respect, Redd Ensign may have his flaws, but he’s shown me what it truly means to serve and protect. I’ll remain loyal to MONARCH, but I’ll also stand by Redd. For King and Country!”
Do you know what’s better than being overwhelmed by the weight of the moment (both literal and metaphorical)?
Liking and subscribing to Redd Ensign’s adventures on all your favourite interweb hangouts—like this Substack!
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Until next time, Keep Protecting the Dominion!
– Shane Boivin, M.O.N.A.R.C.H. Historian
🔗 Click here for the website: boivins.ca
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