THE SCENE OPENS TO PANDEMONIUM. A roaring crowd is observed by all within the NEW viewership whose eyes are concurrently adhering to their television the soft soothing glow of their television sets.
Their eyes are locked and unblinking. Their minds are subdued; ready to be force fed information conveyed to them upon the waves of the very air they breathe. Unlike the previous gathering which this throng of coach vegetables witnessed circa two weeks prior gone are the chants in unison. Now the crowd converged upon the locale of the Killer Champion’s home/theater/cathedral only cheer. A few snippets of sentence can be caught here and there by the trained ear. However, for the most part, the entire conglomerate of devout’s voices have amassed into a single thundering continuous bellow which have effectively drowned out all other sounds which may have flirted with our ear drums had they not been so overwhelmed.
“My brothers and Sisters, it is almost time!”
A voice is heard which seemingly emanates from somewhere above our present position. In order to seek out the genesis of this celestial voice the camera pans upward.
Up.
Up…
…and up some more.
“Lift up your hearts to Placebo so that you may join him on his travels!”
Our view has now transcended ground level and now we gaze upon the rooftop of our resident Andorran’s domicile. It sticks into the sky piercing it as a knife carves through soft flesh. Here we are caught off guard but a sight most peculiar. Doc Placebo, standing with Erica to his left flank; the couple are dressed to the hilt in elaborate dress attire. The champion choosing to wear his Killer Championship over his shoulder. His right hand rests on the surface of the status symbol. The orator inciting the crowd is Matthew of the Placebo Youth. He stands in his gray cloak while clutching a megaphone which he is using to great effect on the mob massing beneath. However these are NOT the details you notice first, the single most eye catching object tethered to the roof would have to be the gigantic ZEPPELIN, it hangs a few inches over the roof defying the late Sir Isaac Newton.
ShaTTeR!
A wine bottle is hurled against the hull of the metallic airship by the Omega Lord himself, Doc Placebo. The bottles vintage is cast upon the surface of the zeppelin… Placebo wipes his hand upon its surface and offers it up to Erica.
Doc Placebo,
“Wine?”
Erica,
“Mmm…”
Attending to the Doctor’s fingers sopping with a combination of wine and her newly added saliva Erica goes about removing each and every drop of celebratory drink from the Omega Sin’s digits. She bites down a little drawing a bit of blood which is just as eagerly consumed as the alcoholic beverage it has mixed into adding a copper quality to the snack. The Andorran winces just a little at the invasion of incisor into flesh. He looks at his fallen Queen.
Doc Placebo,
“Let’s go.”
Finishing up Erica extracts just a little more of Doc Placebo’s blood before surrendering the hand once more to its owner proper. She nods in agreement and together the two enter the zeppelin via a wooden staircase ascending to the hovering flying machine. Minions proceed to untie the ropes which tether the Zeppelin to its stationary aerial dock. As the two disappear into the levitating man made device Matthew once more addresses the clamoring devout whose ravings can be heard even here almost 15 stories into the sky.
“HE RISES! SING PRAISE TO OUR GOD, DOC PLACEBO!”
“SING!
PRAISE!”
The crowd erupts into an even greater frenzy as if their roar before was naught but the eye of the storm and now we are being hit with the full gale force of their tribute in vocal form. As the ropes are cut the air ship begins to lift from its perch and is beckoned into the sky. The scene fades and the sounds of cheering subside, a score of balloons are set free by the devout below, some are sliced through by the zeppelin’s forward facing propellers as the scene fades to the ship’s interior. Placebo stands by a window regarding those below. Erica is still licking her lips, her tongue wisks away a small morsel of her Master’s blood away from just under her lip. Placing a hand on the glass the Omega Sin addresses an unseen audience.
Doc Placebo,
“Standing here in my airship, the Elysium. I look down on the world from upon high.”
Doc Placebo,
“You might say, what a fucking arrogant sod this man is; standing from atop Olympus observing the many serfs of the world as they go about their lives.”
Doc Placebo,
“And you would be right. I would be arrogant if that were the case.”
Doc Placebo,
“But I don’t need to stand here to peer down upon you.”
Doc Placebo,
“Do I?”
Peering from the window the Doctor notes an odd sight; a Minion dangling from the Zeppelin by means of a rope tied about its ribcage. The minions had apparently cut the ropes work with haste as they tied themselves to the airship with a knot which they apply to the body after wrapping the ropes about their individual ribcages. The knot is called the bowline; usually reserved for rescue workers this knot allows many of these minions to stow away by dangling from the airship by means of their own ingenuity and sense of urgent dependency.
Doc Placebo,
“Hm…”
Doc Placebo,
“Back to the point at hand… no, I do not need my Elysium for ego. This airship will become the mobile headquarters for the Illuminati and from where I shall deliver my word beyond the borders of my town.”
Doc Placebo,
“But as you know Too Tuff and King Cobra I have looked down upon both of you. It will be an experience all too new for Mr. Crippler and Mr. Daye.”
Doc Placebo,
“Taking a page from the majority of my competitors books it appears I am to do nothing but endless prattle. Not too long ago I listened to Mr. Crippler speak endlessly on and on and on.”
Doc Placebo,
“The man just will not shut up. Half way through… or at least what I thought was have way through this endless rant about “if” and “what ifs” and who could win my title I decided to go make myself a sandwich… much to my dismay upon my return with said sandwich you had still not yet shut up.”
Doc Placebo,
“I was quite disconsolate… however, the sandwich, my savoir, got me through the tough times.”
The Andorran native counts at least six Minions dangling from the bottom of his airship. They begin to list back and forth at the will of the four winds as the Elysium ascends higher into the sky and begins to accelerate towards its cruising speed of ninety miles per hour.
Doc Placebo,
“Avarice can be seen a mile away. The images of my title and a title you are not even yet directly in competition for as of yet which served as an introduction to your greedy little dialogue belies your weakness.”
Doc Placebo,
“You’re star struck.”
Doc Placebo,
“You just can’t hold it in, the thought of being a champion, of being in the ring with those such as I?”
Doc Placebo,
“You want that component in your life right now. It’s a missing piece that has been gnawing at you and now dances upon the surface of your brow for all to see. You even went on about titles you held in the past.”
Doc Placebo,
“You are PATHETIC!”
Doc Placebo,
“It is an obsession, its WEAKNESS, and this flaw will be your DEFEAT!”
Doc Placebo,
“I am going to perform a quick public service announcement for my opponents who are educationally challenged.”
Doc Placebo,
“You did not earn this title shot, I GAVE it to you.”
Doc Placebo,
“Don’t believe me? Reread the press release.”
Doc Placebo,
“…”
Doc Placebo,
“Read.”
Our Killer Champion chuckles to himself ever so slightly.
Doc Placebo,
“Perhaps it would be best if I recite the key words to you. ‘Doc Placebo has just announced that he’ll be putting the Killer Title on the line’…”
Doc Placebo,
“Don’t you get it? Management doesn’t think you’re even worth this title shot, it was a gift from me because that’s what REAL champions do.”
Doc Placebo,
“They defend, no matter the cost, no matter the threat…”
No longer paying attention to his rather long winded soliloquy the Doctor returns his gaze toward the many Minions dangling down below. One Minion has begun to spin uncontrollably and unleashed a torrent of vomit from within his turbulent stomach. That vomit travels into another minion splashing undigested material and stomach acids about a second slave in thrall to the Omega Sin.
Doc Placebo,
“…and I am a REAL Champion, this audience is at an end, good night.”
The scene does not slowly dissolve or fade from our sight. We are quickly and without ceremony shown the proverbial door. Our observation into the heavens on board the Zeppelin Elysium is brought to an abrupt close with nothing but a flash straight to black and then to nothingness. Our welcome is no longer applicable.
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