Chapter Text
When Sticky Washington and his friends defeated Dr. Curtain, they thought their troubles were over.
But oh, how wrong they were.
Decades later, Sticky found himself captured again, alone, helpless, and unsure of how he was going to escape.
He didn’t know who this woman was, or what she wanted with him, but during the weeks (months?) he’d spent as her prisoner, he’d learned several things about Dr. Wundergarten. He’d learned she was an evil scientist who wanted to rule the world. He’d learned that she and her accomplice were able to cause him more pain than Curtain ever could. But still worse than either of those two things, and most frightening of all was the joy she seemed to take in his suffering. She seemed to live for it, breathe for it, and relish every moment of it.
“Dr. Wundergaten!” begged Sticky, though he knew from experience that his words would do nothing to save him the pain, and yet he still would still try anything to make it stop.
“Please don’t hurt me!”
Dr. Wundergarten smiled villainously.
“Oh, but I’m afraid the pain is necessary,” she replied. “For you see, the entire design of this experiment depends on your suffering.”
“What experiment?” groaned Sticky. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
“I told you, Georgie,” replied Dr. Wundergarten sweetly. “My name is Dr. Wundergarten. I am going to take over this world, but first I’m going to need to make sure you and your little friends don’t stand in my way, given your reputations. And since it happens that you,” added Dr. Wundergarten, running her hand along adult Sticky’s stunningly handsome, yet bruised and bloody face, “are the ideal candidate for one of my little side projects, I figured I’d start with you. You should feel honored by the opportunity.”
Sticky looked disgusted.
Dr. Wundergarten frowned at her test subject’s apparent lack of gratitude.
“Believe me, I take no pleasure in your suffering,” she promised. “However, I cannot overstate its necessity and think it wise to remind you that there is no hope in resisting.”
But Sticky could tell from the smirk on Dr. Wundergarten’s face that she very much did enjoy his suffering.
“Begin today’s trials,” she ordered.
“Yes, my liege,” replied Dr. Wundergarten’s shadowy assistant, as they fired up the machine.
Sticky whimpered.
He still hadn’t quite figured out what the machine was doing to him. Biological experimentation, yes, but what sort and for what purpose, he wasn’t sure. What he did know was that it hurt, a lot. It left his body bruised and weak and was the worst type of pain he’d ever felt.
At first, Sticky had trembled and squired before the terrible machine. But as the sessions went on, he found that Dr. Wundergarten was right. The pain wasn’t enjoyable. But it did become familiar. Routine. Expected. Slowly, he learned the futility of resisting. Now when he heard the terrible sound of the machine, he didn’t fight or try to brace himself. He merely let his body go limp and accepted his inevitable fate.
His friends would never find him. This was his life now. This was all he had left.
“Very good,” said Dr. Wundergarten, observing the resignation.
“Let go of hope. Let go of all feelings. That will make the process easier,” she cooed as silent tears fell from Sticky’s face.
“Sticky!” yelled Reynie, barging into the room to rescue his friend.
“Ah, Reynie Muldoon,” said Dr. Wundergarten, turning around to face her old rival. “I’ve been expecting you for quite some time.”
Reynie stopped in his tracks, stunned by the familiar face.
“Sophie?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“It’s Dr. Wundergarten now,” she explained. “Welcome to the lab!”
“Reynie, you…you know this woman?” asked Sticky.
“Yes, she…I knew her, back at the orphanage,” said Reynie. “But…what is she doing to you?”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about Georgie,” said Dr. Wundergarten with a wicked grin. “Your friend is fine. I’m merely running a few simple experiments, and I’d be honored to have you stay and watch. It is so delightful to listen to his screams.”
“No. I’m here to stop you from hurting my friend,” announced Reynie. “And once I alert the rest of our friends that I’ve found you here, they’ll be on the way to stop you too. I’m sure you know that won’t be good for you.”
“Oh yes,” laughed Dr. Wundergarten. “Yes, I’m very aware of the accomplishments of your little band of pathetic misfits. But I’m not afraid of your so-called ‘family’. In fact, I’ve taken the upmost care to ensure this lab is equipped to accommodate them all. Let them come. My experiments need more test subjects, and I’m always thrilled to have such enthusiastic and willing victims banging down my door.”
“I’m not afraid of you!” insisted Reynie. “You might have bullied me when I was younger and alone, but I have friends now! And we stand up for each other. Surrender now. We don’t want to have to hurt you.”
Dr. Wundergarten smiled.
“Oh, you always thought you were so clever, Muldoon,” she mused. “But please, spare me your sympathies. You don’t have to worry about hurting me. See, I’ve acquired a few allies of my own. Seize him!”
Reynie felt someone grab him from behind. It was Dr. Wundergarten’s assistant, a nefarious figure who had been hiding in shadows, their face obscured by a white robe, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Stop, let me go!” yelled Reynie. “Whoever you are, you don’t need to do this!”
“Sorry dear boy,” replied the mysterious stranger. “But I’m afraid I do.”
Reynie gasped. Even after all these years, he recognized the voice.
“Milk the milkman?” he asked.
“Indeed,” replied Milk, lowering their hood. “Though I am no longer a milkman.”
“But why?” asked Reynie, his voice trembling at every heartbreaking word, shocked to discover that such an old dear friend who’d once been so kind to him had betrayed him in such a cruel and terrible manner.
“You were giving milk to children in need! How could you leave such a meaningful life behind to work for someone so terrible? How could you give up being a milkman?” despaired Reynie.
Milk looked almost offended at his words.
“Do you think I ever wanted it to come to this?” they asked. “Milk was my life. My only passion. My only purpose. The highest and noblest of callings. No, I never gave up being a milkman. It was stolen from me. Stolen by the customers I once cared for, customers and an American public I once thought loyal, who flocked to the big chain grocery stores like sheep the second they began putting milk on their shelves. I came by the orphanage one day after you left to deliver my rounds only to be told my services were no longer required. Soon, that became the case everywhere and not just for me, but for all the brave milkmen and milkwomen of this country. We loved our customers, but it was clear that they held no such affection for us. When is the last time you’ve ever been to someone’s house and when they offer you a glass of cold milk and you say, “wow, this is really good milk” that they replied “thanks, I got it from my milkman”? Never. Because they’ve all turned to the corporations and supermarket chains funded by Big Milk and betrayed their fellow countrymen in the name of capitalism and greed.”
“Actually,” said Sticky. “It’s more because people don’t have conversations about milk that much. It’s not really a beverage of choice that people offer when they invite people over.”
“Another sign of how far our once great society has fallen,” lamented Milk. “No one offering a glass of cold milk to polite company anymore? It’s barbaric.”
“I don’t think anyone ever really did that, and not everyone drinks milk either,” observed Reynie. “Some people are lactose intolerant, like Sticky.”
“Which is why I feel nothing for his suffering,” declared Milk. “The lactose intolerant are the weaklings of our society, doomed to wander the earth with upset tummies or be denied the pleasures of ice cream. They are vile creatures that day-by-day grow bitter and resentful of the tasty treats the rest of us enjoy. These wretched outcasts threaten to destroy civilization as we know it.”
“Actually, most people around the world are lactose intolerant,” said Sticky. “Although only around 0-20% of people with primarily European ancestry are lactose intolerant and the rate of lactose intolerance among northern Europeans is as low as 5% in some places, that’s not due to lactose tolerance being the norm as much as it is a result of dairy farming in those regions. The reality is that the rest of the world, including southern Europe, has much higher rates of lactose intolerance, and although these rates vary by region, scholars estimate about 65-80% of people worldwide are lactose intolerant, which is most of civilization. We’re not outcasts, in fact, we’re actually the norm.”
“Faulty statistics, fake facts, milk-hating propaganda!” hollered Milk. “Everyone knows only 0.01% of the world is lactose intolerant!”
“No, they don’t, because that’s not true and nowhere close to being accurate!” protested Sticky, but Milk wasn’t done yet.
“And if the lactose intolerant had it their way, we would all be drinking oats and soy and almonds!” they accused.
“I won’t force you to drink anything!” objected Sticky. “And even if I wasn’t lactose intolerant, there are plenty of other reasons people don’t drink milk. Some people are vegan, others just don’t like the taste.”
“How DARE you mention the V word in my presence!” cried Milk. “Vegans are the only thing worse than the lactose-intolerant. They claim to be the saviors of the environment, they claim to be an “ethical” people, but just look at Dr. Garrison. A vegan and a potato-sack wearing villain who hides underground like a coward.”
“How do you know about Dr. Garrison or her veganism? Also, using her or any one person for the basis of your entire argument is a faulty generalization,” protested Sticky, but Milk would have none of it.
“Nonsense. My reasoning is perfectly logical and demonstrates that I have put up with the sorry state of this society for far too long,” Milk declared. “That’s why I decided to do something about it. Dr. Wundergarten has offered me a marvelous opportunity to change the world.”
“How is working for an evil scientist going to help the milkmen?” asked Reynie.
“Because,” explained Dr. Wundergarten. “When I rule the world, my first order of business will be to get milk off the supermarket store shelves and reinstate the milkmen, appointing Milk here as the head milkman of all milkmen, worldwide.”
“It will be the greatest honor of my lifetime,” said Milk proudly. “At last, I will have the crown that was promised me by my birthright as the great-great-great-grandchild of Melvin Milk, the first milkman to ever live. Doctor Sophie W. Wundergarten shall rule the world, and I shall rule the milkmen. At last, I will ascend to my throne as the prophecy foretold. My reign shall be one of justice and regrowth. I will heal the world with calcium. I will single handedly destroy osteoporosis.”
“That’s not how that works!” protested Sticky, but he was lactose intolerant, so Milk ignored him.
“Yes. Milk will have the milkmen, and I will have everything else,” declared Dr. Wundergarten. “But best of all, I’ll have my revenge on you, Reynie. And your little friends too.”
“My friends didn’t do anything!” protested Reynie. “You don’t need to hurt them. This is between you and me. Let Sticky go. Take me instead.”
“Reynie don’t do this!” yelled Sticky.
“Oh, but I’m afraid I do need to hurt your friends,” countered Dr. Wundergarten. “You see, Reynie, when you outperformed me on all those fancy tests they gave us at the orphanage, you were given special opportunities, the chance to take a test to join Mr. Benedict’s elite team and save the world, and from there several more wonderful and coveted doors opened for you. But for me, a penniless orphan? I had nothing. No offers of college admission and not a dime to afford it. Until one day, in the depths of my bitterness and desperation, I was approached by an organization of like-minded people that offered me a way out. They called themselves the Secret Institute of Nefarious Individuals Seeking Training to Exact Revenge.”
“S.I.N.I.S.T.E.R,” noted Reynie.
“Yes,” said Dr. Wundergarten. “They didn’t name their organization like that on purpose, but it’s kind of cool that it worked out that way, isn’t it? Anyway, they were the ones that took me under their wing. They allowed my hatred, frustrations, and bitterness to grow and fester into something greater, something beautiful. A contempt for all mankind, a distain for ethical principles, a near-complete loss of all humanity, and best of all, what earned me the highest praise from my professors, an instinctual talent for causing pain and suffering accompanied by a cruel and sadistic enjoyment of it.”
“That’s awful!” exclaimed Reynie.
“No,” corrected Dr. Wundergarten. “It was fulfilling, and it was what allowed me to grow beyond you, Reynie. They offered me an education, and I majored in resentment with a concentration in physical and emotional torture and a minor in marine biology (though that was mostly for fun) and then I went on to get my PhD in villainy and vengeance. I have spent decades using my degree to orchestrate the perfect revenge. A revenge that takes everything that you took from me away from you. Not only the opportunities that were denied me, but also the friends I might have had. Milk, my most trusted advisor and ally, won’t you do me the honor of finishing our good work?”
“With pleasure,” said Milk, about to flick the final switch.
“No!” yelled Reynie, running forth to save his friend, only to be stopped by Dr. Wundergarten.
“Oh no you don’t!” she hissed. “This is the end of the line for you Reynie. You’re going to watch your friends suffer and perish one by one, slowly and painfully, their bones snapping and breaking as I slowly destroy their bodies. Then you will finally understand everything you took away from me!”
“Sister? Reynie?”
Dr. Wundergarten and the others turned to see kind Sophie, small, weak, and fragile, hobbling into the room, a horrified look on her face.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
“No reason that concerns you,” replied Dr. Wundergarten sternly, but with an unmistakable hint of worry and affection in her voice. “You should be in bed. I’ll take care of this.”
Kind Sophie didn’t answer but knelt next to Sticky, gently holding his face in her hands.
“What’s going on? Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice shaking, as tears fell down her kind and compassionate face.
“Sister, why are you hurting this poor noticeably handsome stranger?”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” insisted Dr. Wundergarten. “It’s only going to upset you. Go back to bed.”
“She’s doing it to get revenge on me,” explained Reynie. “Because I was the child in the orphanage given special opportunities instead of her. Sticky is my friend, and she wants to hurt him to get back at me.”
“Is this true, sister?” asked kind Sophie, shocked that even her sister would be so cruel to someone so handsome for such a terrible reason.
“No,” snapped Dr. Wundergarten, glaring at Reynie, before turning back to her sister.
“I’m doing this to save you!”
“Save her?” asked Reynie.
“Yes,” said Dr. Wundergarten. “My poor little sister, weak, frail, born with so many illnesses, including a rare form of brittle bone disease, osteogenesis imperfecta. The doctors couldn’t find a cure for her ailments and thanks to the opportunities denied me, I couldn’t go to medical school. But I learned something else. A way to get the perfect revenge. You see, Reynie, by stealing my only opportunity to help my sister, you doomed me to watch the only person I love die slowly in front of me. Now, not only can I offer you the same honor, but I can even give it to you in the exact same way that I’ve experienced it my whole life. This machine, given to me by my new friends, allows me to put your friend through the same pain and damage my sister suffers. The data I’ve collected from these little experiments might be my last chance of possibly coming up with a cure. And once I’ve eliminated your pathetic society and conquered Earth, I will enslave the world’s scientists, forcing them to work tirelessly, examining every single aspect of the data I’ve collected and conducting whatever additional experiments they must until they find a cure for my sister, by any means necessary.”
“How could you do this?” gasped kind Sophie, horrified by the suggestion, as she backed away from his sister.
“I’m doing this for you!” insisted Dr. Wundergarten, taking a cautious step towards her.
“Because I love you!”
“No…” cried kind Sophie. “No, sister, please…if you loved me, then you would stop, you have to stop this!”
“I won’t,” replied Dr. Wundergarten firmly. “I’m never going to stop. Not until I fix you. This is for the best. You have to trust me.”
Kind Sophie didn’t answer her. She walked back towards Sticky and knelt next to his trembling body, gently holding him to ensure Dr. Wundergarten wouldn’t risk turning on her horrible machine when her own sister was in the line of fire, while making sure she wasn’t holding Sticky tight enough to hurt the poor man more than he’d already been hurt.
“If this is what it takes to fix me,” whispered kind Sophie. “Then I don’t want to be fixed. I never want my pain to be the cause of someone else’s.”
Dr. Wundergarten looked heartbroken.
“But…you could die,” she gasped, tears falling down her own face.
“I know,” said kind Sophie sadly. “But better that I die than thousands die in my name.”
“No,” whispered Dr. Wundergarten, her once confident voice now shaky, faint, and desperate. “I won’t lose you. I can’t lose you.”
“I think I understand now,” said Reynie gently. “Why you always took my milk money all those years ago. It was so you could give your sister more milk, because she has a bone-related disease, and the calcium in milk helps bone growth and development.”
“Yes,” said kind Sophie regretfully. “It’s true, Reynie. My sister never drank her own glass herself; she always insisted her bones were strong and that I needed it more, and then when I’d finish my own and hers, she always offered me another. When I asked where she got me the extra glasses, she always told me not to worry about it, and I’m sorry to say that I didn’t. And I’m so terribly sorry about what she did to you.”
“It’s not your fault, kind Sophie,” insisted Reynie.
“And it never did any good anyway,” bemoaned Dr. Wundergarten. “Even three glasses of milk a day wasn’t enough to help my poor sister.”
“Of course not,” said Sticky. “Milk will help your bones, but it’s not magic. A genetic condition as serious as that could require surgery; you need to consult with a doctor!”
“Perhaps your handsome and charismatic prisoner is right, sister,” suggested kind Sophie.
“NO, HE’S NOT!” yelled Milk. “Once I rule the world’s milkmen, you shall all be forced to confront the inevitably healing and restorative power of milk! Esteemed Dr. Wundergarten, my liege, I implore you, do not be swayed by the foul words of this lactose-intolerant peasant. One look at this man will tell you that he’s a liar. Look at his handsome face. You can’t possibly look that naturally and effortlessly handsome without drinking milk. He must have had some cosmetic surgeries.”
“Actually, Sticky really is naturally handsome,” said Reynie.
“He is very beautiful,” agreed kind Sophie.
“Aw, come on guys,” said Sticky modestly, blushing handsomely while Milk tried not to vomit.
“But really you should listen to him because he’s a doctor,” explained Reynie. “Sticky has a real MD, several PhDs, and a mind full of encyclopedic knowledge. He knows what he’s talking about. We can help you.”
Dr. Wundergarten scoffed.
“Right. As if you would ever really volunteer to help me after all I did to you.”
“I would,” said Reynie. “Listen, Dr. Wundergarten, I know you care about your sister. I know that underneath your desire to bully and hurt people, that you’re a good person, or at least, you want to be. You want to save your sister; you want to do the right thing! But this isn’t the way. You’ve hurt me. You’ve hurt my friends. So have a lot of people, and if there’s one thing that I’ve learned through all that, it’s that forgiveness and love are always better options than revenge and bitterness, and that no one is beyond hope or redemption, including you. But even if you aren’t interested in friendship or being better, even if you still insisted on beating me up and hurting my friends, I would still offer to help you because kind Sophie is my friend, and I care about her too. I care about everyone.”
“Liar,” hissed Milk evilly in Dr. Wundergarten’s ear as they glared at Reynie. “Do not fall under the spell of his flowery words and silver tongue, my liege. He is a traitor who would break bread with vegans and the lactose intolerant, who holds hands with the capitalist oppressors of Big Milk who put the hardworking milkmen and milkwomen of this once great nation out of work and on the streets. He is no longer the sweet and innocent child who purchased milk from my cart that I once smiled upon with kindness and compassion. He has made himself an enemy of the milkmen and thus an enemy of all that is good and pure. Beware of his deception. Beware of his vile trickery.”
But Dr. Wundergarten was moved by Reynie’s words.
“Please listen to him, sister,” whispered kind Sophie.
“Can you…can you really help her?” asked Dr. Wundergarten.
“Yes,” said Sticky. “I promise. I’ll do anything, just please…please let me go.”
“Yes, please sister,” begged kind Sophie.
Dr. Wundergarten sighed.
“Very well. Release him,” she relented.
“Release him?” cried Milk. “But what about our plans? Our partnership?”
“Dissolved,” replied Dr. Wundergarten. “I have found another way to help my sister. Your services are no longer required.”
“But…but you need me!” insisted Milk. “Your sister’s bones are weak. She needs calcium and healing that only milk can provide!”
“No, she needs physical therapy, medication, and a doctor!” protested Sticky.
“Silence, you lactose-intolerant fool!” scoffed Milk, but they could not change Dr. Wundergarten’s mind.
“It’s over, Milk,” she insisted. “I’m not taking over the world, and consequently, you’re not taking over the milkmen and creating an evil milk empire. Just because we suffered doesn’t give us the right to make others suffer. This is for the best.”
“You ignorant uneducated problematic fools have no idea what a powerful enemy you’ve made!” threatened Milk. “The rivers of your lands that might have run white with milk will soon run red with blood! Your descendants will curse the day you made an enemy of the milkmen!”
“I think this might be an overreaction,” suggested Reynie, but Milk wasn’t done yet.
“Silence!” they shouted. “This is a perfectly stable and normal reaction to having my destiny denied. You have no idea what was at stake for me. A chance to reclaim my birthright and bring honor to my family name. And even greater than that, above all else, the chance to win back the affections of Maren, my ex, who has divorced me for the seventeenth and a half time, dragged me to court, and taken the last of my inheritance through alimony payments, and worse still, taken custody of my prized milking cow, Betsy! But rest assured, after beholding the majesty and cruel oppressive power of my evil milk empire in all its glory, it will only be a matter of time before Maren comes crawling back, lured by the irresistible temptation to rule by my side.”
“You know Milk, there might be a way to get Maren back without creating an evil milk empire,” suggested Reynie.
“How so?” asked Milk.
“Well,” said Reynie. “You mentioned that the milkmen’s troubles began when supermarket chains took over the milk distribution. My friends and I know a man named Nicholas Benedict who can help you solve that problem.”
“The very same Nicholas Benedict who destroyed the prison industrial complex?” asked Milk, intrigued by the proposition.
“Yes,” said Sticky. “He can help you reclaim milk production and distribution in the name of the milkmen which will hopefully be enough for you to bring honor to your family legacy and win back Maren.”
Milk shed a tear as their heart, once as cold as a glass of frozen milk, softened at Sticky’s kind words, warming like a glass of warm milk.
“You would do that…for me? Even after everything I just threated to do to your friends?”
“Of course,” said Reynie. “That’s what love, mercy, and forgiveness are all about. We make mistakes, we forgive each other, and we get better.”
“Also, this is a T rated fic in a fairly G rated fandom,” added Sticky. “You can’t really have thought the author was going to let you get away with that much explicitly described violence, can you? We’re pushing the T rating as it is with those earlier descriptions.”
“I suppose you’re right,” conceded Milk.
“Then that settles it,” declared Dr. Wundergarten. “If you agree to help cure my sister and give Milk the justice that the milkmen deserve, then we will release you.”
“Deal,” said Reynie.
And so, the nefarious Dr. Wundergarten and Milk the milkman were defeated by the power of love and friendship.
Milk led a revolution against the supermarket chains to reclaim the production and distribution of milk for the milkmen once and for all. It was a revolution that Nicholas Benedict was more than happy to help lead, as he’d been looking for something to do ever since successfully destroying the prison industrial complex. These actions caught the attention of Maren, who was impressed by how courageously Milk stormed into the office of the CEO of the top grocery store chain in the city and bravely and heroically tasered him and his staff relentlessly until they agreed to relinquish milk production and delivery back to the milkmen. Unfortunately for Milk, Maren would file for divorce again just three weeks later after Milk accidentally spilled a glass of milk on Maren’s favorite dress. They say there’s no use crying over spilled milk, but in this case, poor Milk did cry, and they immediately began plotting another evil scheme to impress and win back Maren.
Meanwhile, Sticky got kind Sophie the right medications and physical therapy, which greatly improved her condition. Dr. Wundergarten used her minor in marine biology to pursue the peaceful career studying sea critters and became world renown for her award-winning podcast “Sea Life with Sophie.”
And they all lived happily ever after, the end.