Artisanal Molasses (Infamy)

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Artisanal Molasses (Infamy)

Post  Steven Rausch on Wed Jun 28, 2017 6:29 pm

The Silent Comedy's "Bartholomew" begins to play throughout the arena, its deep bass drums and isolated vocals providing a haunting atmosphere for the audience. Smoke covers the floor of the stage as the house lights dim and only the occasional blue or purple illuminates the otherwise dark scene. From under the CarnageTron, an unfamiliar figure appears.
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A spotlight tracks his slow movements across the stage, and it becomes apparent that the figure's riding a slim, fixed-gear road bicycle. Coasting down the ramp, the mystery figure wears a hooded robe, deep brown with a thick rope knotted around the waist. "Bartholomew" continues to play toward its build as the lack of crowd sounds indicate the paid audience has no idea what's happening.
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The figure makes one slow and wobbly lap around the ring, almost crashing over bundles of camera cords on multiple occasions. He deposits his bicycle near the announcers' table with a crash and slinks under the bottom rope into the ring. Standing in the center and lit only by a single spotlight, the mystery man pulls a microphone from one of his flowing sleeves and a grapefruit-flavored LaCroix seltzer water from the other. He cracks the top of the can loudly - spraying foam everywhere in the ring - and then begins speaking ominously.
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Mysterious Figure: "Mine is the sword of Michael, and yours is the shield of ambivalence."
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He violently rips the hood back from his head, revealing a head of extremely curly, dark brown hair. His skin is pale, and his face is framed by as much facial hair as it can support, no rhyme or reason to its growth pattern and no grooming evident outside of the preposterous amount of wax used to straighten the tips of the mustache.
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Mysterious Figure: "I am known by some as Brother Thelonius, and I am known by the others as Brother Thelonius still.
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The time for a cleansing of this awful bubbling world is now, and it begins with a SEVERE REDUCTION IN CARBON EMISSIONS."
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Brother Thelonius screams these last words into his microphone so loudly and with such a high pitch that the PA system gives way to shrill feedback for a number of seconds. The audience covers its ears and individual fans can be seen looking at each other incredulously, Thelonius' entrance smoke still filling the air near the stage.
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Brother Thelonius: "Of course, change is gradual, like the slow crawl of molasses poured from the barrel into individual two-ounce containers and sold for THREE HUNDRED TIMES THE PRICE, ARTISANALLY.
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And while I wage my spiritual crusade with the draconian suited lizards who fail to give this arena DEDICATED BIKE LANES, I encourage any one of their mercenary men to come to this ring and understand just why MEAT IS MURDER."
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As feedback overtakes the arena again, Brother Thelonius rips the robe over his head, revealing a very pale body underneath dressed only in a pair of brown wrestling trunks and Birkenstocks. The crowd once again fails to react, uncertain that they're even about to see a match.
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Steven Rausch

Posts : 302
Join date : 2012-08-20
Age : 29
Location : Philly

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