The Order’s Compound - Location Unknown…
15:12 - The Blob’s Ante Chamber…
Buzi, Abaddon and Abishag stand mindful watch over the unconscious Doctor Summeroff. The Doctor lies at the foot of the Chilean Blob’s tank – various electrodes that are hooked into the Tank are attached to the Doctor’s head. A computer shows the sleep patterns of the doctor are highly engaged – as if in a dream state.
“There”, one of the Order’s sleep scientist’s remarks, pointing to a spike in the graph displayed. “He has made contact…”
Abaddon nods.
It did appear the Doctor was communing with his watery master.
In the tank, the bio-mass of the Blob quivers slightly.
Summeroff, for his part, stands in his dream in front of the burning wreckage of what used to be an arena of some kind. All around him – Flames. In the distance, the burning rubble of homes, trailers and businesses.
A catastrophe had happened here.
Summeroff walked beside the wreckage and then he saw something…
It was himself.
Unconscious.
“What is this”, he asks himself.
“Another time. Another place”, a voice answers.
Indeed it was. It was Mount Vernon. The site of this week’s Friday Night Clash 4.
Only the place was In ruins - and it seemed the source of this ruin had come from the Tom Tiny Lister Memorial Arena.
“Witness”, a voice says and then all the images come.
23:17 – The Great Hall…
“I saw it all”, Summeroff says as he opens up a bottle of Brother Janus’ finest vintage. It was a wine made of the finest grapes – a blend of taken from the fields of France, California and from the Wine Growing regions of Southern Ontario. A hidden treasure to be sure. Infused in this wine was just the right amount of the Blob’s essence.
“Delicious” Buzi says as he samples the Beverage.
Janus, also at the table along with Abaddon and Abishag, smiles in agreement.
The light here is dim. Only the flicker of the great candles gives light by which to see. The only sounds are the sips of the vino and the far away echoes of large doors opening and closing.
As such, when Summeroff does choose to speak, he sounds louder than he really is.
“Do you believe the Blob can transverse both space and time, my friends?”
Buzi nods but isn’t sure. Abishag is doubtful but hides it. Abaddon is also skeptical. Janus – who was among the most spiritual of an already spiritual order – believes it fully.
“Well he can”, Summeroff says, “Whilst I communed with our watery savior earlier, he showed me a warning…a vision…an alternative reality concerning Mount Vernon and the Tiny Lister Arena. We must be carefull my friends for what he showed me was terrible. In this other reality, the Lister was blown up…there was death and destruction everywhere! The toll was catastrophic! The citizens of Mount Vernon all perished! Buzi – in that reality, you were already dead – taken out by an assault on the compound itself…Abishag - not long before the destruction of Mount Vernon, you escaped a siege on Detroit…I saw it all – the Arena in flames as troops stormed the ring…you escaped through the sewers and into the Detroit River…none of that matter though…what matters is the fate of the Lister arena and the town it resides in…The Blob advises caution for a bad energy surrounds the place…”
“It sure does", Abishag says with disgust, "…UOW has given me Jeremiah Vastrix as my tag team partner in this bizarre main event…Doctor – I’m not sure I can stomach carrying that insufferable crackpot. Look at last week and how badly that Scotsman brutalized him…”
“Yesssss…him…” Summeroff says with disgust remembering the assault at that haggis eater’s hands. “Well they say Vastrix’s cybernetic eye just might be operational again by the time the match begins. Perhaps it will give you both the advantage you need.”
“I don’t need any cybernetic eyes to help me…the Blob is all I need. He is my sword, my shield…my strength…”
“Yessss…he is that, isn’t he?” Summeroff says smiling at Abishag, happy that the man has once again fully accepted the Blob as his guiding light.
Abaddon interrupts, “I am hungry…a light snack would have been nice…I find the service of the Culinary class less than adequate these days…”
“Indeed, they will need to be spoken to on this matter”, Buzi says, his own belly requesting a midnight snack.
“Gentlemen, patience. The new servant is still in training”, Summeroff says and snaps his fingers.
Chet – the Lift bridge operator they ‘recruited’ a few week back – steps out with a plate of bread, cheese and Prosciutto.
The brothers take their shares from the tray, all giving the evil eye to Chet for his tardiness in the matter.
“Chet, the food is to be on the table before we come for our nightly leadership meetings…is that understood?”
“Yes, Mr. Summeroff”, Chet says.
Summeroff stands up, grasps onto Chet’s head and without warning, grasps onto his tongue and pulls hard, tearing half of it at the root.
Chet drops to his knees and screams, blood flowing freely from the wound and onto the floor.
“Do not make that mistake again…am I understood?”
Chet nods his head in understanding.
“I’m not sure he truly understands…Abishag…drive the point home.”
Abishag slowly rises from his seat, wipes his mouth with a napkin and then makes his way over to the quivering servant.
“On your feet!” He hollers.
Chet struggles to stand, his head now woozy from the loss of blood. Abishag reaches out with his arm and Power bombs Chet onto the floor, knocking the man unconscious. Without being asked, two acolytes come scurrying into the room and remove the servant.
“With that unpleasantness out of the way, and given my message to you from the blob to be mindful of the negative energy that surround Mount Vernon…let’s discuss the upcoming match. Abishag – your point about Vastrix is noted. He IS an unworthy teammate…but I don’t see much better on the other teams. On the one team, it’s the Scotsman that assaulted me! Davey Boy O’Brien…I want that one to suffer…you hear? I want him to suffer…right before you administer the Blob’s essence to him…that way he keeps suffering…those who are blessed by the light…the essence revives…as it did for you last week Abishag…for those on the wrong side of his glory…the essence corrupts…makes you ill…I want O’Brien feeling as ill as he does under the grip of the worst kind of flu…but first you break his bones…I want him to PAY FOR THE TEMERITY of laying his hands on me Abishag…AM I CLEAR?”
“Yes, very clear”, Abishag says.
“The Blob demands vengeance!!” The Doctor says.
The others at the table voice their agreement.
“What about Kronin? His partner?” Abishag says.
“Haven’t you done enough to poor Kronin?” The Doctor replies with pity. “Poor, poor Kronin…”
Summeroff sighs and waves a dismissive hand, “Do just what is necessary and no more to keep him out of the way. It’s O’Brien I want to feel the full, unbridled wrath of the gelatinous god!”
“There’s also the matter of Baron Vendredi and Takuma Sato…” Buzi says, looking over the intelligence report the Order’s analytics department came up with.
“Yes. The Baron…again, haven’t you done enough to him? The Baron is an irrelevance…a product of a bygone time…speaking of which, did you know when the Blob showed me the events of one of the alternate time – in that world, the Baron was actually a formidable opponent – a wrestler of ability. Here, he is but a test subject – a shell of what he could have been. He is of no concern. Sato though…he continues to be a problem. We went along with his and Stricker’s foolish plan to stir up the locker room and cause dissent under the guise of worker’s right…of course, this was all a ruse. Those fools in the locker room – of which most are in this match – they all bought it hook, line and sinker. They gobbled it up like Pierre Poutine and Whale Jones at a buffet.”
They all laugh.
“As if I give two shit about worker’s rights and insurance…the only insurance policies WE need, my friends is downstairs in that tank!”
They all cheer and give praise to their watery master.
“PRAISE BLOB!” Summeroff shouts raising his hands to the air.
After a moment, they settle and the Doctor picks up his thoughts, “Takumi Sato…”
“It’s Takuma…isn’t it?” Abaddon asks.
“Yes, Takuma…whatever, does it matter?” The Doctor asks.
“Not to me it doesn’t”, Abishag says, “When I get my hands on that shit disturber, I’m going to Powerbomb him half way back to Japan. I’m going to smash him back to dust. The preferential treatment afforded to him will end. Perhaps when I’m done with him, I’ll send his carcass to McStrumps as a Christmas Present. He can string Sato up on his wall like a stringer of Christmas lights.”
“We will be giving no presents to McStrumps…let’s not forget why we have returned Abishag…it is to OVERTHROW that tyrant. We’re the good guys. Don’t forget it, even if UOW doesn’t realize it. Everything we do is to strengthen the resolve of UOW…to temper the roster and make them stronger. Each beatdown is a lesson taught…a mirror held to the faces of the likes of Kronin, The Baron and the others that THEY ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH…in order to overthrow McStrumps and truly hurt Rupert Mudcock, this Roster must grow strong. Must evolve and put on a better show…UOW is AMERICA’S PASTIME! The Fans will listen but not to the likes of the Baron, Sato or that false Prophet Salinas. No my friends, We…are the WAY. When this is all over – YOU Abishag will sit upon the throne of America and depose McStrumps and usher in a new era of peace and prosperity. THAT is the goal. Old Glory will be taken down…burned in front of McStrumps VERY EYES as we raise the Flag of Blob.”
Abishag, Abaddon, Buzi and Janus all stare intently at the Doctor.
“Oh yes, I am VERY SERIOUS. I see in your eyes you think the Doctor has had a bit too much to drink…I assure you I am of sound mind my friends. WE WILL rule this country someday but it all starts here. The People must believe. Abishag, you must somehow carry Vastrix and the two of you MUST win this match.”
“Of course”, Abishag says as he takes another drink of the wine and can feel the essence of the master infuse him with purpose.
“And when that’s done”, The Doctor says coldly, “…then we set our sights on Salinas. We will show her the TRUE people’s champion. Her time is almost at an end. Let’s hope she makes the most of it.”
