Monkey See Rilo Do!
Baghdad Bob, "...his coming will be like the apocalypse, nothing shall remain standing, not a single house, not a single brick! The Infidel Revolution shall be forgotten, just as all previous memory will become irrelevant upon that day."
Placebo contemplates.
Doc Placebo, "Hmm... agreed. Unfortunately we still do not know yet when he will return."
Baghdad Bob, "It matters not when, only that he does!"
Doc Placebo, "Once more I am in agreement... yet we must turn our..."
The Andorran wrestler's train of thought is interrupted by a series of chomping, grinding, and other indecipherable sounds. His eyes dart from his guest with whom he was engaged in conversation and settle quickly on something beyond our line of sight. Something outside of the scene which we are allowed to view. Panning backwards a table lined with exquisite snack foods of Spanish & French cuisine which had been just ever so slightly off camera. There stuffing his face with a mouth full of paella can be seen Manager Mike.
Manager Mike, "NO!"
Doc Placebo, "No?"
Manager Mike, a former franchise owner of a Barnes and Nobles located within Dulles International Airport. He made his jump to II when he began proactively promoting the Commumentalist Manifesto written by Nikolas Globe. Mike forces his hand into a bowl of shrimp and grabs a handful of the crustaceans. Pulling his hand free of the bowl Mike smiles as he observes his bountiful reward while his free hand pats his enormously overweight stomach in anticipation.
Manager Mike, "Yes."
Baghdad Bob, "No... yes... make up your mind!"
Manager Mike, "Already done!"
Forcing the entire handful of shrimp into his mouth at once Mike begins to chew the dead things, shells and all. He talks with his mouth open, spitting pieces of sea food absentmindedly about without care.
Manager Mike, "He'll show up when he wants to, it's what he's always done!"
Doc Placebo, "And we cannot hasten nor delay that arrival."
Baghdad Bob, "Then all we need do is wait and our enemies shall be cast aside like*"
Placebo raises his hand silencing Baghdad Bob. With that hand he then motions for another to approach. Erica does so, the TNT World Title is within her grasp. The pinnacle of TNT wrestling perfection glistens, its golden face is like a mirror, reflecting all that it encounters. She kneels before her former Master, holding up the title for his approval. Her eyes do not engage his... For a moment he gazes upon his reflection cast within element noted on the periodic table as a mere two letters; AU. With his left hand the Omega sin reaches behind Erica's ear and tickles her as if she were a cat.
Doc Placebo, "Good girl."
He whispers to her something we cannot hear... she tries to suppress a smile as Placebo begins running his hand through her hair sampling it's texture as he removes the World Championship from her grip. Now donning on his championship title, wearing it with his suit like a cummerbund... he is ready.
Doc Placebo, "As I was saying... it is time to address new business."
Erica, "Rilo."
The Doctor pats his little Minioness on the head in acknowledgement of her foresight.
Doc Placebo, "Yes, him."
Doc Placebo, "Imitation is the finest form of flattery... in that sense... Rilo must want to flatter me to the ends of the earth."
Baghdad Bob, "Oh?"
Doc Placebo, "That's right. In my first promo I vented my disgust for that paper weight champion."
Doc Placebo, "Now he seeks the same methodology."
Doc Placebo, "He knows me, yet he brings up my UWA World Title run? Even the fans know I'd amputate that footnote from my career had I the option... but like the little man he is he thinks I am to intimidate him with that accomplishment?"
Doc Placebo, "The UWA Title was meaningless when Rage had it... and therefore meaningless when I had it..."
Doc Placebo, "So if he then KNOWS... it follows that Rilo knows one simple fact."
The room is silent. Placebo continues to stroke Erica's hair. Although she remains at his side kneeling on the floor she edges slightly closer towards him.
Doc Placebo, "He's not better than me..."
"...he's not even better than HIMSELF."
The scene begins to dissolve piece by piece and is replaced with darkness. The absence of light. Soon the entire scene has been consumed by this ever growing darkness and all too quickly this audience is at an end. The curtains fall, the stage lights cool.