1984:
Luna, Helga, and Oriana were sitting on the couch in the living room. "Gone With the Wind" was being shown on TV and they were watching it while three-year-olds Drak, Frankie, and Howler were playing nearby.
Drak had a "Hot Wheels" car and was making motor noises while rolling it along the edge of a desk.
"Vrrrrrrrrrr-neowwwww!" He got to the end of the desk and made it blast off and then ran around the room, making the car swoop and dive as if it were an airplane.
Howler was on his hands and knees on the floor beside the desk. He had other cars and was rolling them through a loop-de-loop on a track set. Drak stopped in front of him and spun around and around with his car.
Howler looked up at him and said, "Dwak, caws don't fwy!"
Drak stopped spinning and glared at Howler. "They could!" he snapped.
"Shh! Boys! Play nice!" Luna scolded.
"Yes ma'am," Drak and Howler said together.
Drak sat down on the floor and put a couple more pieces of track together.
Frankie had gotten bored with the cars long before and was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, watching intently as the story of Scarlett O'Hara and her beloved plantation in Georgia gradually unfolded. Every now and then, he would repeat a line that one of the actors had just said.
The nursemaids were passing a box of tissues amongst themselves.
"It's so sad," Oriana commented, wiping a tear from her eye. "She's gradually losing everything she ever cared for."
The movie came to the last scene and Scarlett said, "But Rhett, whereevah shall ah go? Whatevah shall ah do?"
Rhett said his famous line to Scarlett and Frankie immediately repeated it, "Fwankwy my deaw, I don't give a d---!"
Luna and Oriana screamed and Helga deftly scooped up Frankie and carried him out of the room under her arm.
"What'd ah do?" Frankie squealed as he was carried up to his room for bed.
Present day:2001:
"After that Frankie took on that accent for some reason," Howler said to Kittie.
"Interesting," Kittie replied.
Howler and Kittie had spent part of the afternoon playing mini-golf and were now taking a walk downtown. Howler soon noticed a familiar looking shopfront.
"Hey! It's Aunt Portia's!" he said excitedly. "I didn't realize we were out this way."
"Who?" Kittie asked.
"My Aunt Portia," Howler said, "That's her shop over there. Come on. I'll introduce you."
They crossed the street and headed towards a door that was adorned with mystic symbols. A plaque, hung beside the door, read "Portia Talbot: Fortune Teller".
Howler opened the door and he and Kittie entered a dimly lit shop. The only light came from several flickering candles situated around the room. There were zodiac and star charts decorating the walls, and shelves displaying odd curios. In the middle of the room sat a round table, draped in a black cloth, with four chairs sitting around it. On top of the table was a brass stand holding a large crystal ball. At the back of the room was a doorway, covered by a beaded curtain.
A woman's voice, with a thick Romanian accent, came from the back room. "Mees Portia vill be vith you een a moment!"
"It's me, Aunt Portia!" Howler said.
Seconds later, a woman with olive toned skin, long brown hair, and hazel eyes emerged through the beaded curtain. She was wearing an off-white peasant blouse and a colorful, ankle-length skirt. Around her neck was a golden coin necklace and tied around her waist was a red fringed shawl.
"Kayveen!" she said when she saw Howler. "Vhat a surprise!"
Kittie looked at Howler. "Kevin?" she asked.
"Howler's actually more of a nickname," Howler explained. "My nursemaid called me that as a kid and it kind of stuck."
"Kayveen vas hees Grandfather's name," Portia said, "Eet's a perfectly good name. They shouldn't have changed eet."
"They thought Howler fit my being a werewolf better,"
"Vhatewer," Portia said, "Vell dear nayphew, vhat breengs you by today?"
"Well, we were in the neighborhood and..."
"Ve?" Portia interrupted and looked at Kittie.
"Yeah," Howler said, "Aunt Portia, this is my friend, Kittie."
Portia's face fell. She looked back at Howler and asked, "Keetee? Keetee...Dred?"
Howler was a little unnerved by his aunt's expression. "Um, yeah. She's the one who's been helping the guys and me, remember?"
"Dreds are notheeng but trouble, and no nayphew of mine ees going to refer to von as hees friend!" Portia snapped. She turned to Kittie and shouted, "You! Geet out!"
Kittie started to leave but Howler stopped her. "Kittie, wait. Aunt Portia, you don't understand."
"No, Kayveen, you don't understand!" Portia snapped, "Dreds are not to be trusted! Your Great-Great-Grandmother found that out the hard vay!"
"My Great-Great-Grandmother?" Howler asked.
"Yes. Mayny years ago she vas svindled by a mayn named Perciwal Dred!" Poria said and turned to Kittie, "Does that name mean aynytheeng to you?"
"My Great-Great-Grandfather was named Percival," Kittie said.
"Ah! So you admeet eet!" Portia snapped, "You are a decendant of that mayn!"
"Well it's not something I'm proud of, but, yeah."
"And you are a svindler!"
"No."
"What about your dad?" Howler asked.
"Now he's a swindler," Kittie said.
"No," Howler said, "I mean, haven't you been swindling him?"
Kittie thought a moment and said, "You're right. I guess I am kind of a swindler, aren't I?"
"Vhat are you talking about?" Portia asked.
"I told you, Aunt Portia," Howler said, "She's been helping the guys and me behind her father's back, and she's also my friend."
"I don't care vhat she's been doing!" Portia snapped, "A Dred's a Dred and not to be trusted! Particularly by you!"
"Why?" Howler asked.
"I show you vhy!" Portia said. She walked to the other side of the table, sat down in a chair and said, "Both of you, seet!"
Howler and Kittie looked at each other and sat down in chairs on the opposite side of the table from Portia.
Portia waved her hands over the crystal ball and said, "Vatch!"
Howler and Kittie looked into the ball. It clouded over for a moment. The clouds then swirled and parted to reveal a scene being played out as if in a movie.
A man riding a black horse appeared in the scene. He was wearing a dark purple cape and a big hat, decorated with ostrich plumes. The rest of his clothing was purple and in the style of the late 19th century.
The man rode through a wooded area and came to a clearing. A small wagon was parked in the clearing, and a lone gypsy woman was tending a fire.
"Good woman!" the man shouted in an English accent.
The woman looked up from her fire and said, "Yes?"
"Ah good!" the man exclaimed, "You speak English. Could you tell me how far I am from the nearest town?"
"The neareyst willage ees tayn miles een that direction," she said, pointing down the road. "Eef your horse ees sweeft, you should be there by nightfall."
"Excellent!" the man exclaimed.
"Vhile you are heere, veary traweler," the woman said, "vhy don't you stop for a momeynt and have your fortune told?"
"My fortune?" the man asked. "That sounds like a lark! I think I will."
He got off of his horse, tied the reins to a tree, and followed the woman over to her fire.
From the wagon, the woman produced a small table and a familliar looking crystal ball and stand. She sat down on a stool, held out her hand, and said, "I see all. Cross my palm vith seelwer and I vill tell you vhatewer you vant to know."
"Alright," The man said. He opened a money bag, pulled out a coin, and placed it in the woman's outstretched hand.
The woman closed her hand around the coin and asked, "Vhat ees your name and vhat ees eet that you vant to know?"
"My name is Percival Dred and...hmmm," he thought a moment and asked, "Will I ever rule the world?"
The woman placed the coin on the table, waved her hands over the crystal ball and asked, "Vill the mayn, Perciwal Dred, ewer rule the vorld?"
Clouds swirled within the ball as the gypsy gazed into it. "Ahh!" she said, "I see great theengs happening for you. You vill become wery powerful and rule over all of England."
"Just England?" Percival asked, a little disappointed.
"There's only so much von mayn can do," she explained. "Your decendants take ower from there and the Dred name vill become eenfamous throughout the vorld."
Percival rubbed his hands together and chuckled, evily. "I knew my plans would pay off, eventually! Well, good afternoon, gypsy woman. I will now take my leave."
Percival turned and started back to his horse.
The gypsy woman picked up the coin he had given her and looked at it, satisfied with her earnings until she got a closer look at it.
"Vait a meenute!" she exclaimed and stood up. "Thees eesn't a real coin!"
Percival spun back around. "Of course it is. It's from England."
"Eet's got your face on eet!" she yelled, shaking the coin at him.
"It's from my own personal mint," he explained, "You yourself predicted that I'd be ruling someday and, when I do, that will be the official currency."
"Eet's vorthless now!" she screamed. Her fingernail dug into the coin and she saw a piece of silver plating flake off. "Eet's not ewen pure seelwer!"
Percival got cocky. "Shouldn't you have 'seen' that earlier?"
"Oooooooo!!" she screamed. "Nobody makes a fool of Penelope Varga and geets avay vith eet! I curse you and the name of Dred!"
"A curse?" he asked, sarcastically, "Ooo! I'm scared!"
"You should be!" Penelope yelled. "You and all of your decendants vill be doomed to failure een your qvest to rule the vorld!"
"Is that the best you can do?"
"Eet's pleynty!" she sneered.
Percival rolled his eyes and turned back to his horse. "Curse. Hah!"
He untied the reins and started to put them over the horse's head when the animal reared and knocked Percival onto the ground. The horse then ran off in the direction opposite to where Percival wanted to go.
"The curse begeens!" Penelope announced.
Percival scrambled to his feet and ran after his horse as Penelope laughed.
>Clouds enveloped the scene and faded leaving the crystal ball clear again. The story was over.
Howler and Kittie were dumbfounded. They looked up from the ball at Portia.
"That geepsy voman vas your Great-Great-Grandmother, my Nana Peynny. She showed me that story on her deyth bed and gave me her creestal ball vhen I vas a young gorl," Portia reached behind her, took a small, wooden box from a shelf and handed it to Howler. "She also gave me thees, as a reminder neywer to trust a Dred."
Howler opened the box. Inside was a silver coin, slightly larger than a quarter. Howler took it out of the box for a closer look. Kittie looked at it as Howler held it up. On one side was the anagram, O.G.R.E.
"I didn't know O.G.R.E. existed back then," Howler said.
"Well, it wasn't much of an organization, yet," Kittie said, "It was just him."
Howler turned the coin over and saw the profile of the man that he and Kittie had just seen in the crystal ball. Howler read the words underneath the profile out loud. "First Bank of Dred?"
Portia looked at Kittie and said, "That ees vhy you and your entire family line ees cursed!"
"No wonder I had such a lousy childhood!" Kittie said.
"You know, I hate to say this, Aunt Portia," Howler said, putting the coin back in the box, "but, Percival had a point. Why didn't she see this? Even when she didn't notice it was a fake, couldn't the ball have told her?"
"Yes, eet should have," Portia said, sadly, "That vas her secret shame for the rest of her life. To be fooled so easily by such an ewil mayn."
"Maybe the ball wanted her to curse him," Kittie said.
"Vhat?" Portia asked.
"Well, I've heard of some really good psychics who say that they don't always see everything. Some of the information that they say they haven't seen, seem to me like it would have been damaging in some way to someone had they seen and told about it."
"That's not how the creestal vorks!" Portia snapped.
"How does it work then?" Kittie asked.
"Vhen someone like me, who has been chosen to use eet, actiwates eet and asks eet a qvestion, powerfool spireets are called who answer the qvestion."
"Are they good spirits?" Kittie asked.
"Of course!" Portia snapped.
"What kind of world would it be today, if my Great-Great-Grandfather had taken over?"
"Horrible," Portia admitted.
"Then, isn't it possible that the good spirits in there..." Kittie pointed at the ball, "were using Penelope, in a way to save the world from evil?"
"Which would make my Great-Great-Grandmother a hero," Howler added.
"Exactly!" Kittie said.
"That," Portia said, "ees the most rediculous theeng I ewer heard."
"Did she ever ask the ball why it didn't show her the coin?" Kittie asked.
"No," Portia said, "She blamed herself for the error."
"Then why don't you ask it now, then?"
Portia looked at Kittie with skepticism, then waved her hands over the ball and asked it, "Vhy didn't you show Nana Peynny the coin?"
The ball got cloudy as Portia gazed into it. The clouds swirled slightly and Portia's jaw dropped. "Vhat she said?" she asked, still looking at the ball. She looked up at Kittie and asked, "How did you know?"
"It sounds like something I'd do to my dad."
"Withhold information to prevent him from doing something,"
"Vhy?"
"Why are you asking me? You don't trust me, remember?"
"Fine!" Portia snapped, "I ask the creestal then! Vhat has Keetee Dred been doing and vhy?"
Portia gazed into the swirling clouds and saw her answer.
"You have been helpeeng the Drak Pack!"
"Like I told you," Howler said.
"You resent your father for treating you badly and tryeeng to torn you eento sometheeng you aren't."
"Yup!" Kittie said.
"Vait a meenute!" Portia exclaimed, "You svindled an entire creeminal school?"
"Oh yeah! I forgot about them!" Kittie said. "Guess who one of the founders of the school was."
"No! Not..."
"Percival...Dred!"
"Ha hah!!" Portia laughed and clapped her hands together. She grinned at Kittie and said, "I neywer thought I'd be sayeeng thees about a Dred, but, I like you!"
Howler smiled.
"For you," Portia continued, "I change the curse."
"You will?" Kittie asked.
"Yes. As long as you are helpeeng the Drak Pack, eet von't effect you as much. To be completely reed of the curse you must marry and take your husband's name. But, eet must be true love. No goeeng out and geteeng married just to geet reed of your name."
Howler looked at Kittie and smiled. "That shouldn't be too hard."
"Vhat?" Portia asked.
"The ah...Drak Pack part," Howler replied, nervously.
Portia looked at him, skeptically.
"Um...Kittie," Howler said, "Why don't we go finish our walk and let my aunt get some paying customers?"
"Okay," Kittie agreed, standing up. "It's been nice meeting you, Miss Portia."
"Likevise, Keetee," Portia said. Kittie walked away from the table and Portia whispered to Howler, "Just a friend, eh?"
Howler smiled, nervously.
"Just be carefool," Portia warned.
"I'll see ya later, Aunt Portia," Howler said and left with Kittie.
Portia sighed and shook her head.
Howler and Kittie stepped back out onto the sidewalk.
Howler looked at Kittie. She was giving him the same skeptical look his aunt had just given him. "What?" he asked.
"Nothing," Kittie said. "Your aunt's interesting."
"Yeah, I know," Howler agreed.
"You wanta meet one of my relatives?"
"Who?"
"My grandfather.
"Your mom's dad?"
"No. Grandpa Dred."
"You're kidding,"
"Nope," Kittie said, shaking her head. "He's living at an old-criminal's rest home a few blocks from here. We could walk there."
"Does he know about the Drak Pack?" Howler asked, concerned.
"Dad has told him about you guys," Kittie said, "But he wouldn't be able to figure out who you are since you aren't in monster form. He can't see all that well."
"Okay. Let's go."
Kittie led Howler down the street.
"You know that scene your aunt showed us must have happened right before my Great-Great-Grandfather met Vampira," Kittie said as they walked.
"Vampira?"
"Yeah," Kittie said. "The story I heard was that he was chasing his runaway horse during a business trip in Romania when it suddenly got dark out. It started to rain and he found an old, run-down castle and went inside to dry off. He started a fire in a fireplace and fell asleep in an old chair. He woke up when she almost bit him. He was scared at first but she had some highly evil qualities so he asked herto join him. She traveled back to England with him, much to my Great-Great-Grandmother's disgust, and became the first member of O.G.R.E. other than him."
"Wow!" Howler exclaimed. "There wasn't anything between Percival and Vampira, was there?"
"Oh no," Kittie reassured, "He wasn't young and attractive enough. She goes for guys like...well...like Drak."
"Drak?" Howler asked.
"Yeah," Kittie said, "Remember that poster I told you about?"
Howler thought a minute. "Oh yeah! Now I remember! Should Drak be concerned about that?"
"If he doesn't want to be tricked into joining O.G.R.E., yeah."
"What? How?"
"There's an oath you have to sign."
"Did you sign the oath?"
"No. Someone named Catherine DERD did though,"
Howler snickered.
"Ah, here we are," Kittie said.
They were outside the gate of a large ominous looking brick building.
"It's a criminal's rest home?" Howler asked as Kittie opened the gate.
"Yes," Kittie answered.
"No one else in there knows the Drak Pack, do they?"
"Only in monster form," Kittie reassured. "Dad figured you guys wouldn't go in there any other way."
"Okay," Howler sighed.
They walked up to the front door.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Kittie said, pausing at the door. "Try to agree with him or he'll hit you with his cane."
"Thanks for the warning," Howler said.
Kittie led Howler through the halls of the rest home until they got to a door with the name "Neville Dred" on it. Kittie knocked and opened the door a crack. "Grandpa, are you decent?"
"Catherine, Is that you?" a voice came from the room. "Come on in and visit dear."
Howler followed Kittie into the comfortable looking room. An elderly man with snow-white hair was sitting in a wheelchair. He was wearing a dark blue robe and had a tartan patterned blanket covering his lap. A long cane with a gold knob handle laid across the arms of his chair.
"It's good to see you, Catherine," he said, squinting at Kittie through thick spectacles. "You don't come to see me often enough."
"I'm sorry, Grandpa," Kittie said, pouting, "I've been busy."
"Well, at least you visit me more than that son of mine," Neville added. "Catherine, is there someone with you?"
"Yes, Grandpa," Kittie said. She went behind him and turned his wheelchair to face Howler. "Grandpa, this is my friend...Kevin."
Howler breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He hadn't thought of names.
"So, Kevin," Neville said, squinting at Howler, "You've come courting my Grandddaughter, have you?"
"Well...um...I..." Howler stammered, nervously.
"We're not that far into a relationship yet, Grandpa," Kittie said, rescuing Howler.
"Oh, I see," Neville said. He started poking at Howler with his cane. "Well, you'd better hurry up, young man! She's a lovely young woman. She could be snatched up right from under your nose."
Howler looked at Kittie. "I guess I'll have to take that into consideration." he said.
Kittie blushed.
"You do that," Neville said. "So, Kevin, what are you into? Other than my Granddaughter, that is."
"Into?" Howler asked.
"Your profession," Neville said.
"Oh, that," Howler said. He forgot who he was talking to and said, "Protecting the world from evil, mainly."
"What?" Neville snapped.
Kittie went deathly pale. Her legs buckled and she fell to her knees on the floor.
Howler thought fast. "Just kidding!" he laughed.
Neville burst out laughing. "You had me for a minute there, son! You've got quite a joker there, Catherine."
Kittie peeked over the back of her Grandfather's chair. "Yes, I do." she said, forcing a chuckle as she stood up.
"So, what do you really do?" Neville asked.
"Nothing much, so far," Howler said, "Just some petty crimes and such. I'm working up to the big stuff."
"Got ambitions, do you?" Neville asked.
"Yup!" Howler said, nodding.
"You want some advice?"
"Sure."
"Nuclear weponry,"
"Wha...?"
"The wave of the future, my boy! The threat of a nuclear attack can bring the world to its knees!"
Howler looked at Kittie. "Just humor him." Kittie mouthed.
"Yeah, I guess it would," Howler said.
"You should build one of your own," Neville said, poking at Howler again.
"I wouldn't know the first thing about something like that," Howler said.
"Don't worry," Neville reassured, "My Granddaughter could show you."
Howler looked at Kittie again. Kittie nodded.
"Okay," Howler said, slowly.
"Here," Neville said. He took a wad of bills out of his robe pocket and handed a couple of them to Howler. "Go get yourself some supplies."
"Er...ah...I couldn't take this."
"You going soft on me, boy?"
"Well, no..."
"Then take it!" Neville said and swatted Howler on the arm with his cane.
"OW!" Howler said and looked at Kittie again. "Told ya." she mouthed.
"If you want my Granddaughter someday, you're going to have to have some ambition," Neville said, poking with his cane again. "Well Catherine, It's been nice seeing you again."
"Likewise, Grandpa," Kittie said.
"I'd like to take a nap now, Catherine. Could you turn off the light on the way out?"
"Sure thing, Grandpa," Kittie said and gave him a hug.
Kittie stood up and Neville Dred's head slumped down. In an instant he was snoring, heavily.
"Shh!" Kittie said as she and Howler tiptoed to the door.
Kittie flicked the switch on the wall. When the light was off, Howler noticed an eerie, green glow eminating from Neville Dred's face and hands.
"What's with his skin?" Howler asked as Kittie closed the door.
"Dad's first nuclear reactor kit," Kittie said.
"Ah!" Howler said.
They walked back to the entrance and went outside.
"He's a bit obsessed with nuclear weapons, isn't he?" Howler said when they got back to the sidewalk.
"Yeah," Kittie said, "He grew up during World War two and admired the villains of that era. Dad grew up on James Bond films and fell in love with lazer weapons. Grandpa insists they're a waste of time."
"James Bond?"
"Yeah," Kittie said, "His favorite is Goldfinger. When he's in a bad mood he takes out his video copy and plays the partwhere Goldfinger has James Bond strapped to the table with the lazer beam creaping up on him. He lets it play up to just before James escapes, then he rewinds it and plays it over and over again until he feels better. He also likes to say that line, 'No, Mr. Bond. Now you're going to die!'"
Howler started laughing. Kittie laughed with him.
When Howler calmed down, he handed Kittie the money that Neville had given him. "Here. I can't take money from your Grandfather."
"Don't worry about it," She said, "It's fake anyway."
"Fake?" Howler asked, opening one of the bills to look. The profile of the man he had just met was printed on it as well as the words "First bank of Dred".
"You should know by now," Kittie said.
"I know, I know," Howler said, "Never trust a Dred."
"Exactly," Kittie said and they continued on their walk.