Re: Grand Battle S3G1! (Round Three: Caelo Ruinam)
05-19-2012, 04:34 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
Albert Einstein, who of all the geniuses in history was the one whose hairdo the former Scofflaw admired the most, used to rest at his desk while clutching a pencil in his hand. When he finally dozed off into unconsciousness, he would release the pencil and its clattering would awaken him. It was the sort of elegant, understated solution for which Einstein was known and for which Ray (Sadist Forme) had nothing but contempt. So it was that when the villain (and whipping-boy for the greater villainess) fell asleep, there was no clack but a whoosh as neither one nor two but three new scofflaws warped into being.
The first of the scofflaws was leaner and perhaps a hair taller than the others, and pranced around the room with a childlike abandon. He wore a blue suit. ”What’s going on here?” he exclaimed. ”Why, there are four of me! How wonderful! I do very much love myself.”
The scofflaw in the red suit was about two feet tall and dangerously pale. He had been brought into the world weeping and saw no reason to stop. He wheezed as he spoke. ”Why would anyone do this?” he mewed. ”There don’t need to be more of me. There shouldn’t even be one. I hate myself.”
”I take that as an insult, you know,” snapped the blue scofflaw, too manic to be legitimately angry.
”Quiet, you too,” grunted the bloated, grim green scofflaw, examining the computer terminal over the shoulder of his progenitor. ”I’m reading.”
”The last thing I remember was coming up with the plan to code three backup versions of myself to carry out my malevolent schemes while I slept,” announced the blue scofflaw. ”So be it, then!”
”Yes, well,” mused the green scofflaw. ”We may have overestimated our mystical runic programming ability. The prime Science Sadist forgot to give us any memories after that.”
”Why are you still… calling him that?” breathed the red scofflaw. ”It’s just us here. Our name is—“
”We don’t speak that name here,” interrupted the blue scofflaw. ”Ray Green, clearly Ray Red is deficient. And I’m having difficulty thinking of reasons why he would be. What’s going on here?”
”The code wouldn’t reconcile all of his most valuable attributes, so he could only give one of them to each of us. I am his intellect. Though cold and unfeeling, I hold the secrets of the code and a great mental capacity to realize our plans. Ray Blue, you are his soul.”
”I should have guessed! I can feel myself surging with creativity, whimsy and a lust for life!”
”Yes. Between your ideas and my scientific rigor, we should be able to accomplish anything. Red Ray, I’m sorry to have to be the one to give you this news, but you are his heart.”
”Oh, please, God, no!” The red scofflaw redoubled his incessant weeping.
”Yes. I cannot fathom why he chose to include you.”
”You wouldn’t. You don’t know him the way I do.”
”We need a plan,” insisted the blue scofflaw. ”I assume the prime Ray has been monitoring the other contestants while he works?”
”Yes he has,” confirmed the intellect. ”Velobo and something that is likely Jetsam are bonding far below, in the dungeons. They provide a minimal threat. Tor and Huebert have joined with a group of terrorists who are attempting to fight their way through to Lady Midday, though they will not arrive before Tinten, who is alone.”
”Does Midday know they’re coming?” asked the soul.
”We have a feed on her, too. She is washing herself in a shower of tears, and does not seem worried.”
”Is she naked?” asked the heart.
”Very. Have a look, if you so wish.”
The three scofflaws took a minute to ogle their boss before continuing with their schemes. ”We,” suggested the blue scofflaw, Should warn Midday of the arrival of the others, so she can kill them. Alternatively, we should not, so they can kill her!”
”That is unwise in either case. If they kill her, they will find us—and the prime—and kill all of us. If she is warned of them, she will send us out first, and they will kill us, leaving us unable to conclude the prime’s schemes. Only one of us should go.”
”Aha! If one of us dies, it will leave the others in doubt as to whether their much-loathed ‘Scofflaw’ still lives! Buying us time to concoct even more dastardly plots of vengeance and conquest! I volunteer the heart.”
The red scofflaw sobbed into his hands. “Oh, please, no,” he cried. ”I want to live. Please. I don’t want to die. I’m more real than either of you.”
”And I am more valuable than either of you,” added the green scofflaw. ”Besides, no one could mistake Ray Red for the prime. The deception would be obvious. Therefore, soul, it must be you who goes to die.”
”I accept this charge gladly!” laughed the soul. ”But only under the condition that I be allowed to make a genuine attempt to seduce Midday!”
”That should not interfere with our plans, but know that your chances of success are less than twenty percent.”
”We beat those odds on prom night. God bless you, men.” The blue scofflaw strode out of the lab in the direction of Lady Midday’s private bathroom.
”Hey, what about Tengeri?” asked the red scofflaw. ”She’s our favorite.”
”Ah, yes. She’s trying to work up the money to buy a weapon that could destroy the Fool. I’ve been embezzling money from Midday and will have it before she can so much as—“
”No,” demanded the red scofflaw. ”We buy it for her as a gift.”
The intellect was puzzled. ”But why?” he demanded.
”Because she’s our favorite and… and maybe she’d trust us a little and… and… help me out here.”
The green scofflaw considered this for some seconds. At last he said: ”Perhaps a plan against the Fool would be more likely to succeed if we weren’t the face of it. Tengeri is well-liked. Yes… yes, perhaps there is some wisdom to your plan. Very well, heart. Perhaps there was a reason the prime created you after all.”
”How will we get in touch with her?”
”I’ve already created a program linking her bionic eye to our webcam. You do the talking. I don’t think she’d like me.”
”Okay.” Ray (Sadist Forme)’s heart dried its tears and stood in front of the computer while his brain made a few keystrokes.
A video feed of a cave full of giant bats (with the red Scofflaw’s reflection inset on the upper corner) came up on the screen. The green scofflaw whispered: ”You’re live.”
”Okay. Hello. Tengeri? Are you there? I just wanted to say, first of all, that I’m really so, so sorry about everything that I’ve done to you…”
Albert Einstein, who of all the geniuses in history was the one whose hairdo the former Scofflaw admired the most, used to rest at his desk while clutching a pencil in his hand. When he finally dozed off into unconsciousness, he would release the pencil and its clattering would awaken him. It was the sort of elegant, understated solution for which Einstein was known and for which Ray (Sadist Forme) had nothing but contempt. So it was that when the villain (and whipping-boy for the greater villainess) fell asleep, there was no clack but a whoosh as neither one nor two but three new scofflaws warped into being.
The first of the scofflaws was leaner and perhaps a hair taller than the others, and pranced around the room with a childlike abandon. He wore a blue suit. ”What’s going on here?” he exclaimed. ”Why, there are four of me! How wonderful! I do very much love myself.”
The scofflaw in the red suit was about two feet tall and dangerously pale. He had been brought into the world weeping and saw no reason to stop. He wheezed as he spoke. ”Why would anyone do this?” he mewed. ”There don’t need to be more of me. There shouldn’t even be one. I hate myself.”
”I take that as an insult, you know,” snapped the blue scofflaw, too manic to be legitimately angry.
”Quiet, you too,” grunted the bloated, grim green scofflaw, examining the computer terminal over the shoulder of his progenitor. ”I’m reading.”
”The last thing I remember was coming up with the plan to code three backup versions of myself to carry out my malevolent schemes while I slept,” announced the blue scofflaw. ”So be it, then!”
”Yes, well,” mused the green scofflaw. ”We may have overestimated our mystical runic programming ability. The prime Science Sadist forgot to give us any memories after that.”
”Why are you still… calling him that?” breathed the red scofflaw. ”It’s just us here. Our name is—“
”We don’t speak that name here,” interrupted the blue scofflaw. ”Ray Green, clearly Ray Red is deficient. And I’m having difficulty thinking of reasons why he would be. What’s going on here?”
”The code wouldn’t reconcile all of his most valuable attributes, so he could only give one of them to each of us. I am his intellect. Though cold and unfeeling, I hold the secrets of the code and a great mental capacity to realize our plans. Ray Blue, you are his soul.”
”I should have guessed! I can feel myself surging with creativity, whimsy and a lust for life!”
”Yes. Between your ideas and my scientific rigor, we should be able to accomplish anything. Red Ray, I’m sorry to have to be the one to give you this news, but you are his heart.”
”Oh, please, God, no!” The red scofflaw redoubled his incessant weeping.
”Yes. I cannot fathom why he chose to include you.”
”You wouldn’t. You don’t know him the way I do.”
”We need a plan,” insisted the blue scofflaw. ”I assume the prime Ray has been monitoring the other contestants while he works?”
”Yes he has,” confirmed the intellect. ”Velobo and something that is likely Jetsam are bonding far below, in the dungeons. They provide a minimal threat. Tor and Huebert have joined with a group of terrorists who are attempting to fight their way through to Lady Midday, though they will not arrive before Tinten, who is alone.”
”Does Midday know they’re coming?” asked the soul.
”We have a feed on her, too. She is washing herself in a shower of tears, and does not seem worried.”
”Is she naked?” asked the heart.
”Very. Have a look, if you so wish.”
The three scofflaws took a minute to ogle their boss before continuing with their schemes. ”We,” suggested the blue scofflaw, Should warn Midday of the arrival of the others, so she can kill them. Alternatively, we should not, so they can kill her!”
”That is unwise in either case. If they kill her, they will find us—and the prime—and kill all of us. If she is warned of them, she will send us out first, and they will kill us, leaving us unable to conclude the prime’s schemes. Only one of us should go.”
”Aha! If one of us dies, it will leave the others in doubt as to whether their much-loathed ‘Scofflaw’ still lives! Buying us time to concoct even more dastardly plots of vengeance and conquest! I volunteer the heart.”
The red scofflaw sobbed into his hands. “Oh, please, no,” he cried. ”I want to live. Please. I don’t want to die. I’m more real than either of you.”
”And I am more valuable than either of you,” added the green scofflaw. ”Besides, no one could mistake Ray Red for the prime. The deception would be obvious. Therefore, soul, it must be you who goes to die.”
”I accept this charge gladly!” laughed the soul. ”But only under the condition that I be allowed to make a genuine attempt to seduce Midday!”
”That should not interfere with our plans, but know that your chances of success are less than twenty percent.”
”We beat those odds on prom night. God bless you, men.” The blue scofflaw strode out of the lab in the direction of Lady Midday’s private bathroom.
”Hey, what about Tengeri?” asked the red scofflaw. ”She’s our favorite.”
”Ah, yes. She’s trying to work up the money to buy a weapon that could destroy the Fool. I’ve been embezzling money from Midday and will have it before she can so much as—“
”No,” demanded the red scofflaw. ”We buy it for her as a gift.”
The intellect was puzzled. ”But why?” he demanded.
”Because she’s our favorite and… and maybe she’d trust us a little and… and… help me out here.”
The green scofflaw considered this for some seconds. At last he said: ”Perhaps a plan against the Fool would be more likely to succeed if we weren’t the face of it. Tengeri is well-liked. Yes… yes, perhaps there is some wisdom to your plan. Very well, heart. Perhaps there was a reason the prime created you after all.”
”How will we get in touch with her?”
”I’ve already created a program linking her bionic eye to our webcam. You do the talking. I don’t think she’d like me.”
”Okay.” Ray (Sadist Forme)’s heart dried its tears and stood in front of the computer while his brain made a few keystrokes.
A video feed of a cave full of giant bats (with the red Scofflaw’s reflection inset on the upper corner) came up on the screen. The green scofflaw whispered: ”You’re live.”
”Okay. Hello. Tengeri? Are you there? I just wanted to say, first of all, that I’m really so, so sorry about everything that I’ve done to you…”