The creation of the scene forms within a series of brilliant crystals. Light refracts through them with great abundance and travels forth at a speed to which only it can equal. Our vision, limited as it is, increases as the camera angle pans backward allowing us to see that our eyes had been entreated to the visage of a large crystalline chandelier. Panning evermore backward we bear witness to a great hall. Its architecture is reminiscent of an older era; a time when vaudeville still held a proper grasp on popular culture. What we now see is an aged theater, its walls are refurbished, and its seats no longer vacant, each is taken with it's occupants head tilted downward at a reverent angle.
"AVARICE, PERVERSION, THE CORRUPT!"
"It's in the details! THEY'RE IN THE DETAILS!"
An orator's voice slashes through the antiquarian theater. Several individuals populate the theater's raised stage which are clad in gray hooded cloaks partially covering white dress suits. Wearing hoods over heads all figures upon the stage retain their anonymity save one; the orator. Center stage behind a wooden podium a solitary young man speaks and commands the attention of each and every individual within the great room. Beads of sweat have begun to collect on his brow as nerves clash with determination. He speaks onward.
"Those of us gathered here know me, but those of us who are 'new'... do not. My name, is Matthew, I am one of the Placebo Youth."
Matthew
"We are Doc Placebo's students, he teaches us in philosophy, sociology, music, art... the world."
Matthew
"Here, in our cathedral to the Doctor, the Omega Sin, we speak to you, the devout, and you... those still living within the social contract at home."
As Matthew speaks the camera begins to drift about. Listlessly careening about the make-shift cathedral our eyes never lose sight of Matthew as he continues undeterred and most likely unbeknownst of the cameras fickle attitude. Our point of view settles in its new nest, a private balcony far above the many staunch followers congregated here within this holy place.
Matthew
"And now to the matter at hand. It has come to our attention that there has been yet another shining example of the crumbing of today's society."
Shaking his fist at the crowd as he speaks Matthew's voice is still audible but is now slightly diminished by distance and altitude. New voices intrude upon the sermon being communicated...
"He's... amazing tonight... full of..."
"...Fire."
"Yess...."
The camera pans backward just a single foot, inching. Doc Placebo is revealed. Dressed in like apparel to Matthew sans the gray hood. A woman adorn in not much more than her signature short black dress kneels next to the fatal four way entrant. It is unclear why she has decided upon the floor as she does indeed have a chair which is now unoccupied territory.
Matthew
"...what kind of society allows this to happen? KIDZ pro Wrestling? Did not a single light bulb turn on above one of these parent's heads to tell them that Maybe... just MAYBE, little 12 year old Missy shouldn't be in the ring with 5 year old Timmy?"
Three heavily armed men dressed in trench coats flank the couple, none of them have chairs and none appear to have the inclination to annex the unused chair adjacent the Doctor.
Doc Placebo
"We have brought him up well, Erica... soon he will not need a teacher."
Erica
"Hmm... yes. But he isn't ready to leave the nest just yet."
A muffled cough. The Doctor's attention is diverted from Matthew's tirade as he acknowledges a figure at the entrance to his private balcony.
"Master... news of your match..."
Nodding to the interloper the Andorran Native exits the balcony. The camera angle stalks Placebo as he shuffles silently out of the balcony and into a large hallway. The hallway's architecture is just shy of gaudy as one would expect from a roaring-twenties vintage theater, a mural on the ceiling of the hallway depicts the ceaseless conflict of heaven and hell with man caught between the two immortal powers. Away from the ears of his flock the Doctor demands.
Doc Placebo
"What news."
Minion 2
You've been booked against three others. Daye, Eli Storm, and Imperius...
Doc Placebo, the Omega Sin analyzes his Minion. Although not the second Minion to fall in line with the Doctor's command he has risen to that rank amongst those who bow to his will... however, at this moment, Placebo senses there is more to this story than he has been made aware...
Doc Placebo
"Is that all."
Minion 2
...yes sir.
Performing a quick bow facing the Doctor the pitiful Minion scuffles backwards.
Doc Placebo
"IS THAT ALL?"
The minion's feet cease mid scuffle but it's back remains arched as if locked in a everlasting bow.
Minion 2
"...no sir. It's... just that."
Doc Placebo
"Just what?"
Minion 2
"In the company Sir... a few of your competitors are betting on who will win this Sunday... they don't even know your name."
Doc Placebo
"Go on..."
Minion 2
"They think someone else is wrestling in your place, someone named Night... they don’t seem to know you exist."
The Doctor's eyes widen and he becomes quickly aware of a strange feeling across his face as his muscles contort in a manner most unfamiliar; the facial expression of surprise. Dismissing the Minion without a word the Doctor takes his leave and returns to his balcony; Erica once more kneels by his left flank.
Matthew
"How could it have ever come as a surprise to any member of law enforcement within that great state that the very son of the owner of a professional wrestling organization which features children was a convicted sex offender?"
"HOW?"
Matthew's voice is heard as his sermon has continued despite the former Tag Champion's absence. Taking a single step the Doctor places his right hand on the railing of his balcony overlooking those seated below in the theater turned cathedral. He raises his left hand. Matthew's voice is silenced with but a gesture; he and those on stage fall to one knee.
Those seated turn to face their Lord, the Doctor Placebo. He speaks.
Doc Placebo
"Here in these walls. HERE you know."
His voice bellows from the balcony to the stage where every commanding syllable reverberates throughout the ear drums of his most loyal Placebo Youth.
Doc Placebo
"But outside? THEY FORGET! UWA has fallen, TNT has fallen, and in NEW..."
He pauses.
Doc Placebo
"...in NEW my opponents are apparently illiterate."
Doc Placebo
"Educationally destitute or NOT... they WILL learn my word... with THESE!"
The NEW Wrestler raises his two fists.
Doc Placebo
"If they cannot read between the lines, if they CANNOT EVEN READ THE CARD..."
Doc Placebo
"They will learn to read between the BRUISES THESE FISTS LEAVE UPON THEM!"
Placebo lets his fists hang in the air for a few moments. His anger poured into his congregation though the spoken word the Doctor, the God of those assembled, soaks in the rising applause and cheering of his flock; the chosen few who have already heard his word and found it to be good. A smile nudges its way upon the Omega Sin's lips as he steps backward once, twice, and then turns about facing the exit to the hallway where he and the Minion had spoken. His head turns halfway to Erica he speaks in her direction but not necessarily addressing her.
Doc Placebo
"And many Sundays from now, when my opponents look upon the scars I leave them they will say, 'these scars I received from the fists of God'."
With the rising clamor from the crowd assembled the Doctor's words could only be heard by Erica's feminine ears. His message conveyed the Omega Sin departs and disappears into the hallway aforementioned. Although his armed guard follows we do not as our paths no longer converge. We are left with his congregation cheering and chanting his name as the scene dissolves to white.
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