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Wikihood/arc/P9

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Synopsis

Debonair D'Arque and Droll lament their recent defeat at the hands of the Wikihood crew. Meanwhile, Rosenberg and Stephanie are sent some money and get character development.

Transcript

{Open: Debonair D'Arque's estate on top of Mount Nottigen, during the events of episode 7, just before it was blown up by Noxigar. Noxigar had just kicked D'Arque in the crotch before he and the rest of the Wikihood crew had swiftly fled the scene with the prize. D'Arque had been knocked over onto the ground by the force of Noxigar's kick, with Droll running after him to pick him back up again.}

DEBONAIR: Confound it to hell! Not only have they stolen what was rightfully ours, but that hurt!!

DROLL: Sir, need I remind you that you lack the body functionality to actually feel pain anymore? I mean, being undead and all...

DEBONAIR: Oh, bugger off, you know what I mean! Fact of the matter is that they just got one over us. AGAIN.

DROLL: I know, it is indeed a shame, sir.

DEBONAIR: No, I just don't get it! What exactly are we doing that's making us fail so miserably? I mean, they're not smart, they're not clever or anything like that! Why do we keep getting trumped by this deck of fools?

{Faint ticking can be heard in the background as they are speaking.}

DROLL: Perhaps if your villainous schemes didn't transcend into such cartoonish territory, you might actually succeed at destroying them?

DEBONAIR: Droll, who do you think I am? As I keep telling you, the theatrics are indeed necessary! How else would I live up to my name as the greatest showman on the planet?

DROLL: I don't know, by actually putting on shows, perhaps?

DEBONAIR: Oh malarkey. I thought I raised you better than to be thinking like that!

DROLL: If anything, it was technically I who raised you.

DEBONAIR: Whatever. Hmph. You know, it doesn't matter, we'll just try again some next time. After all, there always will be a next time!

{The ticking sound in the background becomes louder and more apparent.}

DROLL: Of course, sir. And as long as you choose to pull these schemes, I shall always follow you, wherever you may-

{Tick. Tock.}

DROLL: ...Do you hear a ticking sound?

DEBONAIR: What sound?

DROLL: A ticking sound. It seems to be coming from inside the manor.

{TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.}

DEBONAIR: Ohhh. Yeah! I can actually. Hmm... I wonder what it even-

{The manor promptly explodes in a giant ball of fire. Debonair's face makeup is quickly melted off his face, and the shockwave of the blast knocks his fragile skeletal form into pieces. Droll is more lucky, only being thrown onto the ground, where he rolls a bit before hitting a rock in the soil. As the dust and smoke begins to clear, Debonair D'Arque's bones can be seen scattered all over the grounds of the manor. Droll picks himself up and dusts off before looking at the scene.}

DROLL: Oh. How dreadfully unfortunate.

{Droll walks over to D'Arque's skull and picks it up.}

DROLL: Alas, poor Debonair! I knew him, Horatio.1

{Droll laughs, before pulling a bag out of his pocket and putting D'Arque's skull inside of it.}

DROLL: Well then. Looks like I'm going to have to put you back together again.

{Droll proceeds to put the rest of D'Arque's body parts into his bag. Cut to the basement of the D'Arque theatre, where Droll has revived Debonair D'Arque once again in a cajun necromancy ritual. D'Arque gets up off the floor and proceeds to put his fancy outfit back on before erupting in a blaze of fury.}

DEBONAIR: WHAT IN GOD'S NAME JUST HAPPENED BACK THERE?

DROLL: Back where sir? ...Oh. Yeah. It appears to me that your old home has been destroyed in a rapid spread of flames and gunpowder. A terrible tragedy, if I may say so myself.

{10 second awkward silence. Debonair keeps opening his mouth as if he's about to say something, but he promptly stops speaking. Suddenly, he just sighs.}

DEBONAIR: This year really hasn't been our best, has it?

DROLL: When has any year been our best? Ever since I brought you back to life, everything really has gone downhill for us. I mean, what of the scheme that we've planning, for how long now? Five years? The one to take out Mr. Rosenberg?

DEBONAIR: Plans like that take time, you know! It's not as if I could waltz my way into that disgusting city of his and do it personally now, is it?

DROLL: When was the last time you two even saw each other, anyway?

DEBONAIR: Oh, golly. It was a really long time ago, actually. We were both pretty young. We've had several interactions over the years, where he has constantly mocked me through his own self-important arrogance. But us personally? Probably around the 1950s.

DROLL: And you two have carried this feud on for that long.

DEBONAIR: It's more than just a feud, my companion. It goes much deeper than simple idealogy. It's mostly a feud of blood.

DROLL: So you guys are related?

DEBONAIR: Pff, no. No no, you see, it's a feud of families! One that goes far beyond history, or at least... as long as we've been alive. Depending on how you define "alive" in our cases, of course.

DROLL: Mutual family hatred? How intriguing.

DEBONAIR: I honestly have no idea how it started, or even how long it's being going on. For as far as I know, it's gone on longer than the colonization of these lands, where it was our very ancestors waging war on each other!

DROLL: Hard to believe that a war between two families could go on for so long.

DEBONAIR: Well, considering the circumstance, one could say that the "war of families" ended a long time ago, becoming a war of personal conflict instead. Indeed, there was a time where the two of us thought fondly of each other, but as you must surely know, that time passed us by eons ago. This conflict had such petty beginning, and yet for some reason it's gone on so long that it's come to the point where the two of us want to kill each other. It's rather quite silly when you think about it, actually.

DROLL: Why keep a conflict going on for so long if even you acknowledge how ridiculous it is?

DEBONAIR: Why? Because I intend to win, damn it!! No matter how ridiculous, this conflict has gone on for so long with so much put behind it all that any option other than complete victory would be the ultimate failure. And personally? I know that I'm not the only one who believes this. If that dreadful man believed otherwise, he would have attempted to end it civilly a long time ago.

DROLL: So, if family ties really are such a small part of it, what exactly started this? What exactly could be such a petty, yet important reason for it to become like this? Forgive my questioning sir, but as someone from my upbringing and culture, I find all this to be genuinely intriguing.

DEBONAIR: You know me enough, Droll. What else would be the ultimate reason? What would be the one thing to drive me to such extremes? The thing that would drive him to such extremes?

DROLL: I really don't know. Please tell m-

{Debonair suddenly runs over to Droll and dramatically picks him up with his two hands, looking him straight into his eyes.}

DEBONAIR: SHOW BUSINESS, DROLL. THERE IS LITERALLY NO OTHER REASON FOR ME TO HARBOR SUCH A GRUDGE AGAINST ANOTHER HUMAN BEING, BUT SHOW BUSINESS.

DROLL: Show business? Oh wow, sir.

{Debonair drops Droll back onto the ground.}

DEBONAIR: Indeed. In my prime, I was indeed a most popular figure. Much more popular than now, at least. Beyond my facade as the "ageless and eccentric theatre owner", I was known throughout the entirety of the United States of America as the greatest theatrical showman to have ever lived! Time after time, I had crowds of thousands from all over flock over to this town of mine to see my shows! For most of that period, I honestly could not recall a day where my name and face weren't in the national newspapers. The name D'Arque was on everybody's lips!

DROLL: And as for Rosenberg?

DEBONAIR: As for Jim? Well, as I said before, the two of us were actually quite amiable with each other. Enough to the point where you could have called us "friends". But again, I really would not linger too much on that. You see, in the beginning, while I preferred the "refined arts", he was a fan of cinema. Indeed, the man did churn out some rather entertaining flicks year after year, but they were never as good as the much more sophisticated material that I had come to create.

DROLL: Yes, I am aware of his film career. Took off quite nicely, only to fall straight down under in a small matter of years. Most people know that story.

DEBONAIR: Couldn't help but feel sorry for him at the time, really. Being caught out in such an awful scandal. While we in the fine arts are much more tolerant of men of that... type, the mainstream media at the time really was not. So he really just... vanished off the radar for a good while. While me? Well, I was an astounding success. Gotta say, people just loved the theater back then. I had a lot of great luck with the theater you see. Unlike my other family member who was involved in the theatrical business, of course.

DROLL: Oh?

DEBONAIR: Word of advice, Droll. If the President of the United States ever visits your main compound, do make sure he doesn't get shot.

DROLL: ...Oh.

DEBONAIR: But anyway, if there was one thing I could give to Jim at the time, it was the fact that he always had this ability of coming back from nothing. Whether it was when his father died, or when he was basically thrown out of the movie business for certain practices. You see, he was born rich, much like I, and he had other interests. And well, due to the Japanese in Pearl Harbor, those interests basically doubled his fortune overnight. Suddenly, he's back and bigger than ever. I mean, I don't get it really. How do you go from the cinema to war supplies, to suddenly becoming the biggest superstar?

DROLL: Biggest superstar? Oh, that is indeed unfortunate, if I must say. What of your plays?

DEBONAIR: My plays? Well, yes. My plays still prospered. But now with Jim being the it man, I had to share the spotlight with him more than I ever had done before. Every time I came out with another masterpiece, the media would automatically flock to him and his artificial "star" status. And let me tell you something, now. The star system is nothing but a load of bullshit. Pure, unadulterated bullshit. And he was swimming in it!

DROLL: Yes, I can understand why this would upset you, actually. What with your theatrics and all, it's quite obvious that you're a bit of a drama queen at times.

DEBONAIR: Hmph. Well, what can I say? I don't appreciate people taking the spotlight away from me. It's mine! I worked for it, and no fancy-ass millionaire was going to take it from me! So what do I do? I up the extravagance. I pour so much money into my performances that the news have no choice but to have all eyes on me! My plays were still drawing thousands, so I was still on top, and then...

DROLL: And then what?

DEBONAIR: He opened a casin0. He opened a goddamn casin0. Suddenly, not only does he get the press, but the patrons as well. That was enough. As I confronted him on his show stealing, he bit back, taking all responsibility and telling me to outright deal with it! The arrogant bastard! Turns out that the guy always wanted to one-up me in the beginning. Why? In his words: to prove that the Rosenbergs will always be better than the D'Arques!

{Cut to Midway City. Stephanie is at her secretary desk, with Rosenberg communicating to her on speakerphone.}

ROSENBERG: So how are things going with our business associates from Towningdale?

STEPHANIE: I'm not sure. I haven't been able to alter Fritz and Lang to cease being fax machines since this morning, sir.

ROSENBERG: Oh dear. It looks as though there may be some technical advancements from them having been to Midway City!

STEPHANIE: I think dumb luck has more to do with it than anything. I don't think Chaos could outfox a paper bag.

ROSENBERG: Tut, tut, you obviously keep dropping his name. For every dollar you did that this week, I'd be on a yacht!

STEPHANIE: It's kind of hard not to drop names when you memorize them off of blue roses I get every week.

ROSENBERG: Hm, it's interesting how fickle men can be, especially those lot. Believe me, I'd know.

{Rosenberg chuckles as Stephanie rolls her eyes in frustration.}

STEPHANIE: Yes, yes, whatever. I really don't know why we're still focusing on them when they've already expressed their lack of interest towards us and our operations. Or you, at the very least.

ROSENBERG: Yes, I'm aware of that. They keep ignoring my phone calls and letters towards them. Quite rude, really.

STEPHANIE: Don't tell me you expected them to actually answer, especially considering the amount of debt you put them through.

ROSENBERG: I just have so much interest with Chaos I enjoy pestering him and his friends while hoping they come back to Midway City somehow.

STEPHANIE: Is that sarcasm? I didn't think that was a language you spoke.

ROSENBERG: It's not, but I do like to joke around. I can't be the Best Boss if I don't have a sense of humour, you know.

STEPHANIE: So why is it that we're doing this? After making them pay so much for such a stupid reason, I don't think they'd even give you the time of day, let alone willingly come back to help us.

ROSENBERG: Oh, I do know that. The whole money thing was just a practical joke on my end, I do intend on giving it all back to them in the end. I just wanted to see their means of getting it. And boy, was I not disappointed!

STEPHANIE: I assume their multiple spats with Debonair are the only reason why we even bothered with them in the first place, am I correct?

ROSENBERG: Of course. For such an eccentric group of people to get that miserable wretch out of his hiding hole after all these years is one thing, but to repeatedly foil him and then burn down his priceless manor? Seeing it all live on television, I couldn't contain my excitement! No no, I know exactly what I want with them, and I do intend on getting it.

STEPHANIE: But how exactly are you going to convince them to come after you've already burned your bridge with them?

ROSENBERG: Haha, don't be absurd. James Rosenberg never burns bridges, he only makes new ones. Oh no, I've had this all planned out since I laid eyes upon them. You see, I only gave them the illusion of choice in the first place. They will be helping me, whether they like it or not.

STEPHANIE: Right. So, if you're not going to convince them, what exactly are you going to do?

ROSENBERG: Easy. Good old fashioned kidnap. I knew that it was most likely going to come to this as they didn't seem to be the most susceptible lot in the first place. I just wanted them to give them that false choice on the off-chance that they did want to help me. Alas, it wasn't so. Once they're in my grasp, I give them their directions and the circumstances if they dare refuse, and they shall become another accessory to my planning. Once their usefulness has run out, I send them on their jolly ways with their reward. It does sound cruel of me to be doing this, but it is a win-win situation really.

STEPHANIE: Right. I do hear that they've run into other issues beyond us and D'Arque. Did you hear that they had a run-in with a biker gang in New York City? That poor Lex, he really got the worst of it.

ROSENBERG: Oh, you needn't worry about him. I have access to all sorts of his files. He's been through much worse.

STEPHANIE: Right. And the "other" house guest. Vindicator. Reports from our inside sources suggest that he was on the loose for a while. He will not be of any issue to us now, will he?

ROSENBERG: If he does, we needn't worry. We have our contacts.

STEPHANIE: Didn't you once say that your benefactors have a special faction dedicated to "Pest Control"?

ROSENBERG: Indeed we do, but I would rather not waste their time with my own personal business. They're stretched thin enough as it is. Oh no, I already know someone who works independently. He has apparently had contact with one of the house members in the past. Something to do with a "dream world" or something like that. I really do not know, my knowledge of things "mystical" are cloudy, at best.

STEPHANIE: Why would we need that independent contact?

ROSENBERG: Simple. Because this Wikihood Gang has been into some heavy space piracy. Their highest bounty was Chaos, whose head goes for 2,000,000,000,000,000 USD. Personally, I think he's worth way more than that.

STEPHANIE: Wait, Chaos has a bounty?

ROSENBERG: Yes. And if you were to actually receive his advances, then you could turn him in and live in luxury for the rest of your life.

STEPHANIE: Yeah... no thanks, but I'll pass.

ROSENBERG: How wise of you.2

STEPHANIE: Also, Noxigar planned to fill his end of the bargain with that ice cream social. Today he sent me a letter under the alias "Lexon Darkheart" and proceeded to ramble on about how he got the money and he plans to pay it to me upfront on behalf of Chaos, Lex, and the rest of the gang.

ROSENBERG: Then kidnap him instead while I try to seduce our dear friend Abby into having his head eaten by a psycho mantis.

STEPHANIE: What?

ROSENBERG: I'm joking. Except about the kidnap part.

STEPHANIE: I have a terrible feeling the plan's going to fail.

ROSENBERG: Nonsense. I thought this through clearly enough. Failure is not an option when it comes to my planning, Miss Young. You of all people should know that.

STEPHANIE: Yeah, yeah. But beyond those guys, what about the other problem? You know... Debonair D'Arque's manservant. The weedy little creature with the weird accent.

ROSENBERG: Droll, don't you mean? Oh yes, I am well aware of him and his lot. The necromancer goblin tribe of the Louisiana bayous. No doubt that he's the source of D'Arque's life force at this point. For as far as I am aware, no man lives as long as he has done without something to aid him.

STEPHANIE: Could it be that he employs the same sort of technology as you do?

ROSENBERG: Don't be daft! If that were the case, he wouldn't be out and about like he has been in the last couple of months. Besides, the man never particularly liked the technological stuff, seeing it as a "disgrace to the arts". Oh no, I am most definitely sure that the goblin really is the source of our problems here.

STEPHANIE: So what exactly do you want to do about it? Arrange for his demise?

ROSENBERG: God no! For one, I really am not the one for shedding blood in the first place, and even if I were, I really do not want to think about the repercussions from the likes of his brethren. They can be a nasty lot when it comes to hexes and curses. Oh no, I would rather deal with him with a way that doesn't end up with him dead. I simply want to get him far out of the way, or at least, forced in a position where he is powerless. Either way will be good enough for me.

STEPHANIE: Sounds paranoid.

ROSENBERG: Appropriately so. Nonetheless, the scales really are already in my favor. I mean, look at the two. Not only have they been robbed of most of their finances, leaving them dirt poor, but they've also lost their home. I mean, what else do they have left? Some dilapidated theatre that no one ever visits anymore. I actually cannot help but feel rather sorry for the poor losers.

STEPHANIE: Shall I meet with Droll to parlay with him? I feel they deserve at least a deal or something.

ROSENBERG: Pff, hahahaha.

STEPHANIE: I'm not kidding.

ROSENBERG: Oh.

{Stephanie leaves her office.}

ROSENBERG: Wait, where are you actually going?

STEPHANIE: It's six. My shift's over.

ROSENBERG: Ah. Well, I hope to see you tomorrow, then.

{Stephanie clocks out and exits the Rosenberg Tower. She walks to her house, which isn't far from the Rosenberg Tower. She goes into a mailbox which is shared by the other people in the New Havana estate, and takes out a package.}

STEPHANIE: Ugh, don't tell me this is another of those stupid trinkets from one of my stalkers.

{Stephanie sighs, and takes all of her mail with her to her house. She opens the package, which contains a furcoat made out of pandas. And a letter, which Stephanie reads:}

STEPHANIE: Dear Stephanie, I found this at an auction and thought you might enjoy it. I also have the money we owe you and Rosenberg in that package. Chaos says hi, despite his reluctance in me telling you that. Also, we fixed Fritz and Lang in order to save you the trouble of turning them into fax machines ever again. Sincerely, Lexon Darkheart3.

{Stephanie sighs again.}

STEPHANIE: A panda furcoat? Really? Now... that's just offensive to my culture. Not to mention barbaric, I absolutely hate the fur industry for what they do to animals. I really need to give this man a piece of my mind next time I see him.

{Stephanie throws the panda furcoat in the trash. She then picks through the rest of the package to find the money.}

STEPHANIE: Wait a second...

{Stephanie thinks for a moment as she counts the money in the package.}

STEPHANIE: I need to get this to Rosenberg stat.

{Stephanie walks back into the Rosenberg tower. Timeswipe five minutes later as she walks back out, back to her house. We follow her as she walks inside. It is revealed to be incredibly spacious inside, while at the same time being incredibly richly furnished, implying that she is of moderately high wealth. As she kicks off her high heels and places her coat on the coat rack, she immediately walks over to the couch and completely falls right on to it, sitting down heavily in exhaustion. As she begins to relax on the couch, she is greeted by a small black and white cat, who proceeds to curl up in her lap lovingly. She smiles and pets it.}

STEPHANIE: Hehe, did you miss me, Thunderbird?

{Thunderbird the Cat meows softly as it... does cat things.4}

STEPHANIE: Oh goodness, I should probably feed you.

{Stephanie softly picks Thunderbird up and places him on the floor as she goes over to the kitchen to feed him. As she gets the cat food from the pantry, her cell phone rings5. She answers.}

STEPHANIE: Hello?

????: Is this Miss Young?

STEPHANIE: Depends who's speaking. Who are you?

????: I'm... someone important. That's all you really need to know at this point. You'll know exactly who I am if you agree to meet in person with me.

STEPHANIE: Yeah, that's not going to cut it. I'm definitely not going to meet in person with someone I don't even know. Especially after already having a bunch of losers after me as it is.

{The person on the other line sighs deeply before speaking again.}

????: Yeah, alright. This whole "mysterious caller" business wasn't doing me any good anyway. But no, I believe it would be mutually beneficial to the two of us if we were to have a chat in person somewhere. It's about a certain issue, one that's not about us specifically, but the ones above us.

STEPHANIE: Wait a minute... are you that Goblin dude who works for D'Arque?

????: ...Yes. That's exactly who I am. The name is Droll, by the way.

STEPHANIE: Yeah, yeah, I know your name alright. I know about you. Why exactly would I want to speak to you, or anyone else associated with that awful man?

DROLL: Please, I really do not have any quarrels with you personally. I'll explain everything when... or if you get here. I assure you, I mean no funny business.

STEPHANIE: Hmph, do you expect me to believe any word of what you have just said?

DROLL: Of course not. I'm a goblin. When have your lot ever trusted our in the first place anyway?

STEPHANIE: It's more to do with the fact that you follow orders from the walking dead yourself.

DROLL: Huh, it's almost as if you don't almost do the exact same. Look, I know this may be pretty odd-..

STEPHANIE: It is.

DROLL: Yeah. It may be pretty odd, but believe me, I think it'll be good for the both of us. If you're up for meeting me, I'll be at the "Jaeger Cafe", in the New Lodge district of Midway City. In fact, I'm already there as we speak. You know the place, right?

STEPHANIE: Yeah, I know the place. It's pretty hard to miss. Giant neon signs and all.

DROLL: That goes for the whole of New Lodge.

STEPHANIE: Hah, true. But no, really. I know what you're talking about.

DROLL: So? Will I expect you there?

STEPHANIE: ...Yeah, fine. See you in half an hour or so.

DROLL: Excellent. I'll be waiting.

{Stephanie ends the call and puts the phone away, back into her pocket. After she pours the cat food into the bowl for Thunderbird, she walks back to the doorway. As she's about to take her coat off the rack, she stops.}

STEPHANIE: Well, it's not a fancy outing or anything. I think I'm gonna dress more casually for this encounter.

{Timeswipe 5 minutes, and Stephanie is dressed in a more casual outfit, jeans and a t-shirt. Instead of high heels, she puts on sneaker shoes, and she heads back out of her house. As she steps out onto the street, she hails a nearby taxi that immediately picks her up.}

TAXI DRIVER: Yer wanna go somewhere, oi bet?

STEPHANIE: Yes, of course. Do you know where the New Lodge district is? Or more specifically, the Jaeger Cafe?

TAXI DRIVER: Ah, oi nu wha dat is. Yeah, alright.

STEPHANIE: Thanks!

{The Taxi Driver begins to drive Stephanie over to the cafe. He makes small talk while doing so.}

TAXI DRIVER: So, cum raun 'ere often?

STEPHANIE: To this city? Oh no, I live here. I work for the "big guy".

TAXI DRIVER: Ah, yer mean "Auld Rosie", 'uh? ah yeah, oi 'eard aboyt de feller. Nice job, oi bet.

STEPHANIE: Oh, definitely. The guy pays a fortune.

TAXI DRIVER: Wish oi cud git a job as gran' as dat. but 'ey, we al' gotta chucker waaat we gotta chucker. oi jist 'appen ter drive taxis for a livin'.

STEPHANIE: Hey, at least you meet people, huh?

TAXI DRIVER: Ah aye, indeed that's true so 'tis.

STEPHANIE: I have to meet some "important guy". And by important, I mean that he's the underling of the other rich guy, D'Arque.

TAXI DRIVER: D'arque? 'uh, didn't know the bugger was still alive.

STEPHANIE: Tell me about it.

{As the taxi finishes its journey, it parks outside the New Lodge district of Midway. Stephanie gets out and exchanges final greetings with the taxi driver before paying him. In one of the more affluent part of the city, this district is completely lit up by neon signs everywhere. The "Jaeger Cafe" can be seen on the corner of the street. Stephanie promptly walks over there. As she goes inside, she's greeted by the sight of Droll at one of the tables, dressed up in a massive trenchcoat and fedora hat, topping off his appearance with sunglasses. He has already ordered the coffee, which is on the table.}

DROLL: Ah, so you came.

STEPHANIE: Yes, I still don't know why though.

{Stephanie looks at Droll's get up.}

STEPHANIE: Why are you dressed so weirdly?

DROLL: To be inconspicuous. If I wanted to be noticed I'd dress up like a space janitor.

STEPHANIE: Okay, then. So what's the point of all this?

DROLL: I was hoping to call a truce, and thus do the sensible thing.

STEPHANIE: A truce? Pfft, as if. Does the old bag of bones even know you're here?

DROLL: Believe me, if he was aware of what I were doing right now, I quite thoroughly believe that he would blow his top.

STEPHANIE: So what's the point of a truce if he doesn't even want one, then?

DROLL: Because I am speaking on his own behalf. For years, I have served under Monsieur D'Arque, and I have seen what this conflict has been doing for him. It is absolutely tearing him apart. Literally, if you count the incident from this early morning.

STEPHANIE: Pray tell, why exactly should I care about the well-being of that dreadful man?

DROLL: Well, you shouldn't, and I really don't expect you to, but as you already know, we really aren't in our best form at the moment, and on his behalf, I'm appealing to you personally for the possibility of some kind of truce. I would have gone straight to the man himself, but-...

STEPHANIE: James doesn't take visitors.

DROLL: I know-, if you had just let me finish. Look, Monsieur D'Arque doesn't admit it, but I can tell that he's getting tired and weary of this conflict, and over the past few months it has taken its toll on him completely. And I'm just thinking, surely your boss is the same?

STEPHANIE: Actually, James is doing quite fine, thank you very much. Don't even try to compare the likes of that wretch to him. Besides, how are you even sure that Mr. D'Arque really wants out on this? If history is anything to go by, the man is too stubborn to even think of admitting defeat, and you know it.

DROLL: I don't intend on him on admitting defeat, that's the thing! Of course I know he's too stubborn to do so, that's why I'm here. But... ugh. Okay, look at Rosenberg. Even if he is doing "fine", which I highly doubt, considering the fact that he hasn't left that tower in decades, perhaps it will be in his good nature to try and end the conflict so that both sides can walk away peacefully?

STEPHANIE: Yeah, you really don't know him that well, do you?

DROLL: I don't know him at all, if that's what you're trying to say.

STEPHANIE: Exactly. As much as I admire the man for his intelligence and intuition, he really is just as stubborn as D'Arque is, but at least I'm not in total denial of that fact to the point where I have to go behind his back to arrange a truce. Besides, even with the actual conflict happening, James hasn't even done anything recently to bring you two down, as much as he would have liked to, believe me. All of this shit that's going down? It's all your fault.

DROLL: Wait, what? What do you mean it's my fault?

STEPHANIE: Well, not you in particular, but every single thing that has gone wrong in your corner as of late? Perhaps you should look at yourselves first. Who's been foiling you constantly as of late?

DROLL: ...The Wikihood Crew?

STEPHANIE: Exactly. And do you know why that is?

DROLL: Because we may have made some kind of mistake in the past? A few of them, perhaps?

STEPHANIE: Because they've outsmarted you multiple times, you idiot! And you know what? No matter how hard you try otherwise, they'll just keep on doing it. But don't even try to blame them, because all this? This. Is. You.

DROLL: ...

STEPHANIE: You know it's true, as well. Of course you would, you've been at his side the whole time, having a full-on "behind the scenes" coverage, after all. But you don't want to admit it. You got yourself in all this mess the moment you antagonized them in the first place, and now you expect us to bail you out on the count of mercy?

DROLL: It was a last-ditch effort.

STEPHANIE: A rather terrible one, I think. But no, just... no. Whether you like it or not, luck is on our side. Thanks to your stupid antagonizing endeavors, we now have the shovel. And no matter how much you try to get yourself out of this, we will bury you.

{Droll sighs}

DROLL: So, there really is no easy way of settling this then.

{Stephanie stands up from the table.}

STEPHANIE: Unfortunately not. Droll, you really don't seem like that bad of a guy. And in a way, I actually feel rather sorry for you, because I know how loyal you are to the man, regardless of his morals. But it has come to this, and there is no one you two have to blame but yourselves.

DROLL: Hmph. Well... I just... hope you don't get hurt in the process.

STEPHANIE: Likewise. Now, if you would excuse me. James and I have important business to tend to in the future. We have a city to rebuild. Good bye, Droll.

{Next morning in the Rosenberg Compound, Stephanie is going up in the elevator of the tower. After a couple of minutes, the elevator has stopped at the highest floor.}

AUTOMATED SYSTEM: THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA. PLEASE PROVIDE IDENTIFICATION.

{Stephanie presses a combination of numbers on the elevator keypad, where a small iris scanner pops out. Placing her face up to the scanner, it scans her eyes before providing her clearance to proceed. The elevator doors open, and she walks through, where she is greeted by a large display of computer monitors, all connected to an even larger super computer, which happens to take up most of the room. As she moves closer towards the main monitor, it turns itself on, revealing an incredibly detailed 3D model of Rosenberg's face. The 3D model looks at Stephanie and raises its eyebrow as it begins to speak.}

ROSENBERG: Oh my. This must be important then, I assume. It's not every day where you actually come to meet me face-to-face.

STEPHANIE: It's hardly face-to-face when I'm still talking to a computer screen now, is it?

ROSENBERG: Hm, true. But still, it just so happens to be the closest possible thing, even if it is substandard in terms of actual physical communication. Do forgive me if it's not up to your standards, now.

STEPHANIE: Yeah, yeah, no need to be snarky. No, I came here to tell you about what happened yesterday.

ROSENBERG: Did Thunderbird do something cute again?

STEPHANIE: Damn it, Jim, knock it off! This is serious.

ROSENBERG: I was only trying to make casual talk. But nonetheless, what happened?

STEPHANIE: It's Droll. He called me up yesterday.

ROSENBERG: ...Oh. That's... surprising.

STEPHANIE: Yeah, you're telling me. I don't even know how he got my number. But anyway, he called me up, requesting a meeting at a local gathering, telling me it was urgent.

ROSENBERG: Do go on.

STEPHANIE: Well, I went, and-...

ROSENBERG: How do you know it wasn't a trick?

STEPHANIE: I didn't. But that's the thing, it didn't seem like one at all. From what I could tell, he was actually rather genuine in what he was saying.

ROSENBERG: What did he say, exactly?

STEPHANIE: Well, believe it or not, but he actually wanted to talk about... a truce.

ROSENBERG: A TRUCE? DON'T BE PREPOSTEROUS. YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I DO THAT D'ARQUE WOULD NEVER EVEN THINK OF SUCH A THING. HIS DISGUSTINGLY GIANT EGO WOULDN'T ALLOW THAT AT ALL.

STEPHANIE: That's the thing though, this wasn't D'Arque at all, but Droll speaking on his behalf. He went behind his boss's back completely to tell me all this.

ROSENBERG: But why? Why exactly would Droll want to appeal for a truce behind his own master's back in regards to a conflict that is hardly any of his business in the first place?

STEPHANIE: Apparently the recent accident, along with a string of other issues, have finally taken their toll on them. From what I understand from Droll's... well, everything, his appeal was an act of desperation.

ROSENBERG: A foolish move on his part. Even if I were to agree to such a truce, I don't particularly believe that D'Arque himself would be so welcoming of such a notion. Another thing is that I don't think he would be too pleased by his second-in-command's act of treachery as well.

STEPHANIE: That's what I told him. Plus, at the moment, we're not even their biggest problem. They're their own biggest problem.

ROSENBERG: I assume you're talking in regards to the Wikihood and their attempts to constantly antagonize them, are you correct?

STEPHANIE: Of course.

ROSENBERG: This is most excellent, even more so than I had imagined it to be. Through their own foolishness, they've already gotten the group to do to them exactly what we wanted them to do. And the best part is that we've hardly even raised a finger. More reason why I want them on our side. When you look at how dangerous they can be to those who naturally oppose them, imagine how useful they will be to those who ally with them.

STEPHANIE: Let's just hope that they'll actually be more inclined to aid us now than they were when we first engaged them.

ROSENBERG: We need not worry about that. If calculations have served correctly, everything is falling into place much quicker than even I had expected. Now, I believe it is time that we move on to more pressing matters.

STEPHANIE: Ah, yes. Of course. The plan to bring new life into Midway.

ROSENBERG: We must push forward with our plans, especially regarding the Wikihood, who will help us. We must get ready for...

{Zoom into Rosenberg's face}

ROSENBERG: ...The Next Episode.

{The intro section to"The Next Episode" plays as the camera zooms out of the Rosenberg Tower, providing a bird's eye view of the entirety of Midway City. The central part of the city looks pristine, but as the city goes further outwards, you can see that it is also getting more and more derelict, until you start seeing the city surburbs.}

{END}


1. I'm sure Droll must love his Shakespeare references.

2. I need to find an easier way to get deadpan sarcasm across. I imagine it would be in-character for Rosenberg to be marginally good at that.

3. Noxigar writing a letter ironically.

4. Kitten things. Just... cat things. Heck, I don't know.

5. One thing I believe I should establish is that Steph is a massive anime nerd when she's not on business. She went through that awkward weeaboo stage from 14-18 years old and is now a casual anime nerd. To the point where her ringtone is an anime tune anyway. Because she's a nerrrrd.