The Kovenant: Doc Placebo
In Transition
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Your eyes are met with the image of a pen repetitively striking the surface of a piece of paper attached to a clip board. On this paper your eyes are privy to a series of scrabbling, random notes, and what appears to be an incomplete grocery list. The camera pans backward slightly to reveal a young woman whom has come to be recognizable to the fan base of two federations thus far. Resting on her knees and dressed in casual business attire the attractive black haired beauty tentatively continues to tap her ballpoint pen against her clip board. Her eyes are locked on the piece of paper clipped to this board as she studies it intently before speaking…
????, “Well… what did you expect?”
????, “I don’t know… I suppose being set in opposition to some has-been was passable for a debut however, sheer, utter, complete, inexcusable… iNComPEeNCE?”
A flailing hand comes into view on the edge of the camera which had centered itself on the kneeling feminine clip board wielding form in business attire while the camera reasserts itself slightly to her left flank permitting you to observe a man in his early twenties laying on his backside on a long couch resembling something you might see within the vicinity of a clinical psychologist’s office. While one of this man’s arms was flailing about wilding in an expression of the man’s pure aggression his other hand fumbles over a blue ice pack covering his face. Moving the pack about his forehead trails of water spread about the man’s face from a thick layer of condensation which has formed on the outside of the icepack. Moving the pack about you are soon able to spy a glimpse at the man’s facial features which are easily recognizable to any fans whom have followed the United Wrestling Alliance or True Profession Wrestling… accompanied by his favorite diminutive pet Erica he is Doc Placebo.
Erica, “What are you talking about now?”
Doc Placebo, “You don’t know? Do you?”
Erica, “…No?”
Doc Placebo, “Hmm…”
The Andorran native wrestler removes the ice pack from his face which is now glistening with droplets of condensation following his quizzical remark. On the sofa he turns towards the kneeling woman examining her while her eyes in turn follow suit studying his every move. Still unsure of where the Doctor is attempting to lead the conversation she continues to probe further into his motivations…
Erica, “What am I supposed to know?”
Doc Placebo, “Shouldn’t it be obvious? The source of my anguish, my discontent, my annoyance… you of all inhabitants of this rock meandering about our solar system should have known that it would not be due to such a substandard opponent.”
Erica, “Then what is it that could be bothering you? The Kovenant just got here and…”
Doc Placebo, “Ah AH! That’s IT!”
Erica, “That’s it? That’s what?”
Doc Placebo, “Think about it, we just got here… debuting… AGAIN. TPW failed to provide us the competition we sought. The first day we were there the Kovenant netted the Tag Team Championships.”
Erica, “And now here we are again, in another new fed… literally another NEW fed actually… and your worried that…”
Doc Placebo, “I’m worried that this place will simply fail to provide us with the meat we so desperately need to grind. UWA failed us but at least they supported us for over a year… TPW failed within a month. Now… in this ‘new’ place I’ve already begun to bear witness to the rise of intellectually challenged.”
Doc Placebo, “Just look around… at least two learning disabled wrestlers think there is a James Rampage instead of Ramage… maybe it’s supposed to be an insult… but it doesn’t even make sense like that! It’s like they can’t even read the names on the card! Donny Downfall has some sort of pet name for the Kovenant that still doesn’t make sense while another has the misconception that by some chance Rubeus Dahrkov has me on his beck and call?”
Smiling Erica playfully nibbles on the end of her black ballpoint pen which was no doubt made in the newly self proclaimed nuclear power of Korea. Playfully Erica scoots over towards Placebo’s side and kneels closer to his couch while the Kovenant member reaches out to her, his hand mingles with her hair as he samples its delicate texture while strand after strand slips through the digits of his caressing left hand.
Erica, “So that’s what all this brooding is about? You think they think Rubeus is our leader?”
Doc Placebo, “And you thought I was truly depressed about my competition?”
Erica, “Well… you did have me worried…”
Doc Placebo, “And for that I cannot lay any blame on you… after all just look at the competition TPW laid at my feet… and now NEW sends this fodder in my general direction?”
Erica, “Look Doc… I know what you saying; I mean I can see where you’re coming from. Rubeus did you a favor taking care of it for you and Cosmos. It’s just because you don’t like to talk to all that filth in that arena… look at them! What can you possibly expect from a company that employs someone calling himself Mostasteles?”
Irritated at the mention of his opponent the Doctor quickly rises from his previously laid back position while in conjunction with this sudden movement Placebo grasps the thin layer of flesh encased cartilage which is one of Erica’s ears. The young woman flinches minutely at this sudden strike while her eyes flutter shut as the European wrestler applies pressure between his thumb and forefinger pressing his fingernails into the delicate layer of feminine flesh eliciting a brief gasp from Erica inhaling a small amount of precious oxygen. Taking in the savory sensation rippling throughout her body originating from her suffering ear while the Doctor pulls her towards him speaking into her ear in a hushed voice…
Doc Placebo, “Please… do not speak his ‘name’.”
In an equally hushed voice with her eyes only half opened and pain still throbbing throughout her ear Erica responds.
Erica, “…Why?”
His shoulders lowering with a sigh the Doctor releases the ear of his tentative petite Minioness who nudges herself closer to Placebo’s legs rubbing up against them like an affectionate cat begging for another tasty treat.
Doc Placebo, “Because… it’s simply put… stupid.”
Erica, “Well… yeah… is it even a word?”
Doc Placebo, “He ripped the name off some old CD Title that I found lyrics for after I had some of the slaves run a background check on him.”
Erica, “WAIT…. You mean this guy is going around talking about all these thugs representing some purely commercially driven cultural trend and he even has the gall to take his name from some album… and then act like he needs to get back to his ‘gangster roots’ when he’s nothing but a carbon copy?”
Doc Placebo, “That appears to be the essence of it, yes…”
Erica, “That’s pretty…”
Doc Placebo, “Tasteless?”
Erica, “…Cute…”
Erica, “…So…”
Doc Placebo, “What do you think of Nostradamus?”
Erica, “Nostradamus?”
Doc Placebo, “Yeah, for Mostasteless’ new name.”
Erica, “It’s not original either…”
Doc Placebo, “Oh well… maybe Shadow will be better… he can’t be more disappointing than Nostradamus after all…”
The scene begins to dissolve as the Doctor once more runs his finger through Erica’s jet black hair. Piece by piece of the scene is consumed and replaced with only darkness. As each piece of the imagery before your eyes is annexed by the shadows you are able to witness the Doctor and his mistress leave the vicinity of the camera’s angle through the remaining fragments of the scene before you are left in nothing but the dark.