The Kovenant: Doc Placebo
Midnight Snack
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…of a hand gently pulling upon a small brass chain attached to a tall simplistic lamp. Something is abnormal however as your eyes observe quite clearly a lack of color in the images which are now presented to you… in actuality the entire scene appears to be comprised of various segments of the grayscale. You note that you are once again within the metallic morgue located underneath the Kovenant Klub and within the sanctity of the Doctor’s underground stronghold and yet there are no hanging corpses in your view tonight, nay. There is another sight for you to behold within this chilling metallic morgue. Indeed Doc Placebo is seen resting within the confines of a decidedly plush chair sporting only one arm rest however this is not the oddest part image which your eyes are recording. The oddest sight which you behold undoubtedly has to be the Doctor’s attire of dress slacks, shoes, and a striped sweater. The chair does not appear to have been broken but yet it has been seemingly built in this fashion without both arm rests. The TPW Tag Team Title rests within the Kovenant member’s lap, the light from the nearby lamp dances across its golden surface as if it had been recently polished.
Erica, “Hmm… we have guests.”
The camera pans slightly to the left to reveal Erica whom is seen kneeling on a small frost encrusted pillow wearing a sixties style Herbert Sondheim Silk Velvet Cocktail Dress which appears entirely black and sports an equally black bow near her right hip. The young woman is kneeling beside the Doctor’s chair on the side where there is no arm rest allowing Placebo to pet his favored minion slave with his idle left hand while the camera begins to pan backward…
Doc Placebo, “So we do... Well, well, well... look at this farce. I thought for sure I’d be facing my tag partner for my first pay per view appearance but it seems you caused the upset victory. But then a win is a win is it not? I suppose some sort of congratulations is in order…”
Pulling his idling hand from caressing random strands of Erica’s hair the Doctor performs a small sarcastic little golf clap in the honor of Michael Bonds before resuming his prior activities. The camera which had been still panning backwards comes to a halt as it appears to have stopped within the innards of a television set which is facing the Doctor and Erica. The inside of the television set has been entirely gutted leaving only a few random unattached wires and the frame itself. You are now greeted with the image of the Doctor and his pet within the morgue framed by the image of the destroyed television set. Some of you might become instantly aware that this scene appears to be somewhat of a perverted parody of American family sitcoms such as Leave it to Beaver or All in the Family… except these classics did not sport scenes by means of several dangling meat hooks with frozen bits of cadaver still clinging to them in the background.
Doc Placebo, “Congratulations.”
Doc Placebo, “You have now received the honor of being in the position he would have been had he defeated you and it will be a position with which you shall soon become accustom, the position of defeat.”
Looking down at his title belt the Doctor frowns for a moment while he notices that a portion of his golden accolade does not reflect the light of the 40 watt bulb shining down upon it as brilliantly as the rest of its surface does. Sending a quick stern glance towards Erica the Doctor communicates to her his displeasure. Her eyes go wide as she notices the smudge on her master’s championship belt with astonishment. Hastily the young woman positions her self onto her knees so that she can tend towards the title with her most delicate instrument available to her; her tongue.
Doc Placebo, “As I was saying…”
Doc Placebo, “Mr. Bonds, I will look forward to our match at Conspiracy of One. I look at you and I see the epitome of the TPW, arrogance.”
Doc Placebo, “I see arrogance in your actions, arrogance stemming from a few minor victories over several of my compatriots. Amos I can understand, however Dahrkov is just getting his second wind, but I will not make excuses for them. Their losses are their own and yet their failures call out to me seeking vengeance and I shall grant it but I shall not do this action for them.”
Doc Placebo, “No, your blood will not be spilt for their sakes Bonds. It is not their calls for vengeance which wets my appetite to break you. But yes I do crave the sounds you will make as I punish you for your transgressions. And what transgressions do I speak of? Are they against the Kovenant? No, they are against TPW itself.”
Looking down at the work that Erica has been performing on his championship title the Doctor nods in approval while she works her tongue about the various ridges and plateaus which comprise the Andorran’s championship. With his left hand Placebo tickles Erica behind her ear inciting her attention while the Doctor produces a bottle of Heinz Mustard which he has appropriated from a nearby table filled with various condiments that had been just out of your sight due to the cameras angle only a few moments ago.
Erica, “Now your just messing around!”
Erica, “…but then I guess you want me to practice for Sunday…”
Doc Placebo, “My thoughts exactly. After Bonds you’re work is going to double after all!”
With those words spoken the Doctor squirts a few volleys of mustard onto the surface of his Tag Title when you notice that the particular condiment is the only object within the scene which is sporting a color other than the various shades of gray which has dominated the entire length of this production thus far. Erica begins to attend to the title while the Kovenant member turns his attention back towards the camera which is embedded within the gutted television set.
Doc Placebo, “Now, back to the topic at hand… what transgressions was it that I spoke about Bonds and why is it that I shall avenge my fallen allies? And why this odd black and white motif? Well those answers are forthcoming.”
Doc Placebo, “First I will answer the latter then the former. Look at everything you see about you; Dad’s favorite chair, minus an arm… the clothes reminiscent of an era long past, the Oriental rug sprawling beneath us. I’m sure television fanatics might remember each of these items bearing some resemblance to several old American family sitcoms.”
Doc Placebo, “But why?”
Doc Placebo, “Well, you have been the first to take note of my various eccentricities so I feel compelled for the sake of the remainder of the TPW to bring some light to my reasoning behind my actions.”
Doc Placebo, “This setting which I have chosen here is the setting for much of American culture today and even an outsider such as myself can see the influence of television on your day to day proceedings with ease. I however hail from another culture which is relative to me and my actions, it is one with which each of you shall be initiated… in due time.”
Now finished lapping up the mustard with the Doctor had so amply shot across the golden surface of his championship belt Erica looks up at her master as her job has been completed. Once more the TPW Tag Title shines brilliantly under the 40 watt light bulb even in this black and white setting. Unsatisfied with the time that has yet been put into the polishing of his Title the Andorran picks up a bottle of Heinz 57 Steak Sauce and proceeds to undo the dark gray tip of the bottle which loyal customers to the brand know to be in fact blue. Pouring the new condiment about the title soiling it anew Erica furrows her brow at Placebo and then goes back to work. Smiling the Doctor continues with his narration…
Doc Placebo, “And now to the latter… Bonds, I’ve been saying this since I’ve arrived. TPW is weak. The first thing I did when I joined this federation was destroy your Tag Champions and a former World Champion all in one night. That, as the Alpha Sin would say, is a ‘travesty my friend’.”
Doc Placebo, “A travesty it may be it is also the reality. And then came X-Dog… another ‘Champion’, and I use that word quite liberally.”
Doc Placebo, “Defeated in just over two minutes… most of that time mind you was spent as the referee checked in on our beloved GWF Champion to make sure I didn’t maul him too harshly. I not only crushed this man Bonds I frightened him to SILENCE with my first words spoken in his direction which I am certain to be true now that he no longer has to face me we have seen a multitude of X-Dog promotions placed on TPW airtime. All of which are devoid of any mentions of his humiliation at my hands.”
Once again Erica completes her assigned task and this time the Doctor wastes no time in acquiring a bottle of Hunt’s Ketchup which he quite liberally pours about the Tag Belt yet again while he continues speaking. The ketchup however also has its regular color of red like ever other condiment which the Doctor has used to defile his championship tonight. Yet as this new condiment impacts with the golden surface of the Tag Championship its latent golden color is restored as is the color in Erica as her tongue comes into contact with the championship belt’s quite slick surface. Various other bits of color begin to surface within the scene.
Doc Placebo, “How does this relate to you and why it is that I wish to hurt you more than any other competitor thus far? Simple. Each of these men I have faced thought for some odd reason or another that they had skill. Until they met ME.”
Doc Placebo, “And X-Dog? He completely fell short of the mark; my blood lust from my previous match has not been sated with such an easy win… so now… you must substitute. Do not disappoint me Bonds. Do not fall so short of the bar, the referee won’t stop me this time if you too fall short of my expectations.
Doc Placebo, “We only get one chance to make a good impression…
Doc Placebo, “…don’t fail ME.”
With his final words said and color fully introduced to the scene the Doctor whose fingers have been idly spreading about the ketchup that he poured on his title come to a halt as Erica begins to suck on them to remove any ketchup as they keep getting in her way. Looking down on his little workaholic the Andorran allows her to continue as she finishes cleaning his belt for a forth time tonight and he does not reach for yet another condiment although his eyes do divert for a moment and glance at the Tabasco Sauce but his head shakes “no” while the scene is slowly consumed into the darkness.