Post by vastrix on Apr 5, 2020 16:19:47 GMT -5
At a local hospital in Las Vegas, Marcus Anderson sits in a hospital bed with Tarrasque sitting in a chair next to him. Marcus’ ribs are taped up and his face is bandaged.
Anderson: We’re not getting any closer to meeting Parsons at his penthouse. At this rate, he’ll be back in Atlanta at the Smart Mark.
Tarrasque just chuckles.
Tarrasque: You lucky be alive right now. Hammerhand break you ribs.
Marcus puts his hands to his taped ribcage with a wince.
Anderson: Don’t I know it. Since we’re here for another hour or so at least, who do you think you’ll be going for in the Rumble? You have a particular target?
Tarrasque just chuckles.
Tarrasque: Psychotic Goth. Him will want revenge once we crush Xiaolong. Me take away that. Also, him is closest me can get. Shootfighter hides retirement.
Anderson: Yeah, Shootfighter has been retired for a number of years I think. Psychotic Goth is an ally of his and will come gunning for you once Xiaolong can no longer wrestle. It’s a good plan. What will you do to him?
Tarrasque: Me will break him bones and then throw him out ring. Him neck crackle!
Anderson: You’ll snap his neck like a dry twig and then toss his limp body from the ring? That sounds awesome!
A nurse walks by the door, Marcus tries to flag her down as to get himself released, but to no avail. People are working busily on Covid-19 cases and leaving him to rot in his room. It’s possible that he could just leave on his own, but without the pain medicine prescription? Not likely.
Tarrasque: You want me stand out hallway and get nurse?
Marcus smiles at the idea of Tarrasque standing out in the hallway like a sore thumb and trying to get the attention of a nurse by force if need be. He shakes his head.
Anderson: No. I’m sure everything will be alright.
Just then Marcus’ smart phone rings, but it’s an unusual ring. One that he’s entirely certain that he hadn’t put on his phone. He picks it up and sees that he does not recognize the number. He answers it anyway.
Anderson: Hello? This is him. Where am I? I’m in Las Vegas. It’s kind of a ghost town with the coronavirus shutting down the vital tourist attractions. What do you mean that’s perfect? Who is this?
Marcus listens to the other person on the line talking for awhile, nodding as if this is something that can be translated across an audio only phone call.
Anderson: That’s not something that I would be doing. I own several businesses and manage Tarrasque. I don’t-
Marcus listens a bit more, looking a little pale as he listens.
Anderson: My father did what? Why would he ever do such a thing? I will not sit here and be told that I have to- I understand, I am in my father’s position. It will be carried out. Yes. Thank you for the opportunity.
Marcus hangs up the phone while Tarrasque looks at him expectantly.
Anderson: We have to play messenger. It might be time for you to flag someone down, Tarrasque.
Tarrasque: Hehehe. Me do.
Tarrasque stands up and walks outside of the hospital room where he lets loose a roar while flexing his muscles. A nurse stops in her tracks, afraid of the monster.
Nurse: Can I help you? Please, don’t hurt me.
Tarrasque: Marcus want leave.
The nurse peers in at Marcus, who has already begun to get dressed. He waves at her with a cheerful smile.
Anderson: If I could get my discharge papers and my ‘script, that would be great. You do want to free up the room?
The nurse looks nervously up at the towering Tarrasque and then back at Marcus.
Nurse: Right away, sir. I’ll have you out in a jiffy. Just...call him off?
Anderson: Tarrasque. Thank you for your help. Come back and join me, please.
Tarrasque walks past the nurse and takes his seat by the bed. Marcus pulls his shirt over his head, noticing that the nurse is gone by the time that he can see again.
It’s another fifteen minutes before the nurse is back with all of the paperwork that Marcus needs to be discharged. He picks up his medicine at the in house pharmacy, contacting an Uber as he does so. Once he and Tarrasque are in the car, he makes a phone call.
Anderson: Hey, this is Marcus Anderson. I’m with the Warhammer Corporation at level one. I need to do a meeting at your company with you and staff from all shifts. I’ll be there in...ahhh. How long until we get to our destination?
Uber Driver: Forty-five minutes.
Anderson: Did you get that? I’ll be there in forty-five minutes. Yeah, I know this last minute stuff is bullshit, but hey. We all have to play our parts right? I would hope that we could start the meeting within two hours of my arrival. See you then.
Marcus hangs up the phone and then dials another number.
Anderson: Hey. I’m going to be there in like forty-five minutes and the meeting should start within two hours. Be in position after that time as I expect that things will go downhill pretty fast once the meeting gets going. Nonlethal only, right? Good. Yeah, I know they will wish otherwise once they know where they’ll be going.
Marcus hangs up the phone, looking glum. He looks to Tarrasque for his only avenue of support. Tarrasque just grins, placing a hand on Marcus’ shoulder.
Tarrasque: You father do this too. You position power. You must use this power or they find someone else. Someone less nice.
Marcus nods with a sigh.
Anderson: Don’t I know it. I knew that certain duties would come with taking over my father’s holdings within the Warhammer Corporation, but I didn’t know that things would get this dastardly this fast. Tell me about the Rumble some more and your plans to keep my mind off what’s about to happen in a few short hours.
Tarrasque: You want me shoot like some monster?
Marcus grins.
Anderson: Why not? Tell me a little bit about each opponent that you can think of and what you think of them.
Tarrasque seems to consider this and eventually nods with a childlike grin.
Tarrasque: Me do. Me...comment...on them. First, me talk about Johnny Sniper. Him good for fight or him wheelchair? Eric Dane break him. How him be ready for fight like this? Him not. Him dangerous like Xiaolong. No danger.
Anderson: Isn’t Johnny Sniper that military guy? Marines or something. Wouldn’t he know how to power through the pain to be able to fight?
Tarrasque: Him neck was hurt. Neck take long time recover right. Me twist him head and him fall. Easy.
Marcus wrinkles his nose with a grin.
Anderson: So, you’re going to twist his head before throwing him out of the ring?
Tarrasque just shrugs.
Tarrasque: Me also see Psychotic Goth in ring.
Tarrasque bellows in an Ancient Greek dialect.
Anderson: The fuck did you call my mother?
Tarrasque just shrugs with an apologetic smile.
Tarrasque: Me no know. You know Ancient Greek?
Anderson: No.
Tarrasque: Me neither. Psychotic Goth. Him no goth. Him maybe crazy if him think him will win match. Victory mine.
Anderson: That makes some sense. What about some of the other wrestlers in the match. Got any in mind?
Tarrasque: Death Trap come mind. Him say him never win Rumble. Him not win this year either since me going win. Will me throw him out last? Me no know, but me will throw him out.
Anderson: Did you see Steve Awesome trying to do a fake montage of exercises to show that he was getting ready for the match?
Tarrasque just chuckles, slapping his knee.
Tarrasque: Him weak. Him do four push ups and him tired. Me blow him hard and him fall out ring.
Marcus narrows his eyes, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Anderson: You’re going to give him oral sex? You said you would blow him hard.
Tarrasque stands confused for a moment before his eyes go wide as what Marcus is talking about sinks in.
Tarrasque: No! Me no do that. Me hit him like hurricane. Him fly from ring like cow in tornado.
Anderson: That’s funny right there. Next?
Tarrasque: Anthony Caffrey. Him defeat me at Supremacy, but me eliminate him at SWAT. Me and him play again. This time me send him over the ropes instead break concrete boots. Me throw him skinny butt like dart.
Anderson: Now a lot of people are trash talking Caffrey. You’re joining in on that bandwagon?
Tarrasque only grins. Naturally, he doesn’t know what bandwagon means.
Anderson: If everyone else was jumping off a cliff, would you do it too?
Tarrasque: No! Me maybe climb down and eat dead dummies.
Marcus blinks at the open and cheerful mention of cannibalism.
Anderson: Really?
Tarrasque: No. Me no really eat people. No cannibals either. We ate last one last week.
Anderson: Oh.
Marcus sees that Tarrasque is stifling a laugh and gives him a curious look before he finally connects the dots.
Anderson: Ha ha, very funny. Before we slip into a sullen silence for the rest of our journey, you want to maybe give a few words about the champion, Zoran Sainovic?
Tarrasque: Zoran champion. Him am strong. Him fight defend title every SWAT show since winning. Fighting champion. Me honored be in ring with him. Me keep him from harm until me and him only and then me eliminate him last. Him deserve that.
Anderson: So, would you protect Zoran from being eliminated until it comes down to you and him?
Tarrasque: Why not?
Anderson: I suppose that it’s an interesting tactic though I would save someone a bit inferior to you as to make for an easy final elimination. Might I suggest Johnny Sniper or one of his Saga allies?
Tarrasque: No. Me want challenge. Zoran give me that.
Anderson: And why not I suppose.
The rest of the journey is spent in quiet small talk as the car pulls up in front of a distillery called Bottom of the Barrel. It’s a distillery that supplies bars and nightclubs the cheapest of boozes to be used in well drinks. Marcus Anderson and Tarrasque are met by Miles Lanning, CEO of the company.
They are taken on a tour of the facility. A facility that hasn’t been seen much use for weeks since the lockdown. The tour ends in a meeting hall large enough to house all of the employees of the company from office to line workers.
Lanning: We have a guest from the Warhammer Corporation today in the form of Marcus Anderson. I’m sure that he has some important info for us involving the coronavirus.
Marcus Anderson nervously swallows, looking around at the gathered crowd. He glances at Tarrasque, who smiles encouragingly. Marcus sighs, sending out a text message. He gets a response right away. Miles looks at him with a smile on his face, failing to hide his concern. Marcus mirrors the emotion before standing in front of the microphone.
Anderson: I don’t want to beat around the bush here. It insults me, it insults all of you. You know that the need for production has dropped significantly since the start of the lockdown.
Marcus looks around to see that Shocktroopers from Warhammer Security Inc have surrounded the crowd. Shocktroopers are the security (read private military) arm of the Warhammer Corporation. They look like cheap knock offs of Star Wars’ Stormtroopers down to the carapace armor.
Anderson: It has been...decided...that you are all inessential.
Lanning: What do you mean inessential? What is this? You’re killing us?
Anderson: Worse. Desolation needs an influx of new employees.
Lanning: No…
The Shocktroopers begin opening fire into the crowd with tranq darts, fighting hand to hand where the crowd try to break free.
Desolation. A place in central Africa owned by Warhammer Africa that is an industrial complex. The air, the land, and the water are all poisoned by decades of reckless industry. This is the heart of human trafficking in Africa as to replace the workers who die. And die they do by the thousands. Some by the poisons, some by workplace accidents, and some by violence. They all end up in the great furnace that powers the place, sending great globs of greasy smoke into the air. At the heart of darkness is the Tower of Faith where Cardinal Mariano Urizar, the Director of Warhammer Africa, rules from on high. The tower being so tall that it rises above the thick, mucousy air to glitter in the sunshine. The Cardinal is a firm believer that those workers in Desolation work themselves to death in aspiration to go to Heaven.
Miles Lanning takes a swing at Marcus, but the fist is caught by Tarrasque, who squeezes. Miles drops to his knees in pain.
Lanning: You can’t send us there. Who will operate this place once the lockdown ends?
Marcus wipes at his eyes, sniffing.
Anderson: They will hire all new employees…
Miles tries to stand up, but finds that he cannot against Tarrasque’s strength. He opens his mouth to yell, but then slouches over. A dart in the side of his neck.
In thirty minutes, it’s all over. The last of the employees are tranq’d and the Shocktroopers begin carrying unconscious employees out to be placed in the back of semi-trucks that have containers that can be transferred to a boat. Most of the employees will probably make it to Desolation alive…
Marcus Anderson and Tarrasque watch the operation being carried out in military precision.
Anderson: What have I done?
Tarrasque: You do what you have do. Me will do same in Rumble. Win.
Anderson: We’re not getting any closer to meeting Parsons at his penthouse. At this rate, he’ll be back in Atlanta at the Smart Mark.
Tarrasque just chuckles.
Tarrasque: You lucky be alive right now. Hammerhand break you ribs.
Marcus puts his hands to his taped ribcage with a wince.
Anderson: Don’t I know it. Since we’re here for another hour or so at least, who do you think you’ll be going for in the Rumble? You have a particular target?
Tarrasque just chuckles.
Tarrasque: Psychotic Goth. Him will want revenge once we crush Xiaolong. Me take away that. Also, him is closest me can get. Shootfighter hides retirement.
Anderson: Yeah, Shootfighter has been retired for a number of years I think. Psychotic Goth is an ally of his and will come gunning for you once Xiaolong can no longer wrestle. It’s a good plan. What will you do to him?
Tarrasque: Me will break him bones and then throw him out ring. Him neck crackle!
Anderson: You’ll snap his neck like a dry twig and then toss his limp body from the ring? That sounds awesome!
A nurse walks by the door, Marcus tries to flag her down as to get himself released, but to no avail. People are working busily on Covid-19 cases and leaving him to rot in his room. It’s possible that he could just leave on his own, but without the pain medicine prescription? Not likely.
Tarrasque: You want me stand out hallway and get nurse?
Marcus smiles at the idea of Tarrasque standing out in the hallway like a sore thumb and trying to get the attention of a nurse by force if need be. He shakes his head.
Anderson: No. I’m sure everything will be alright.
Just then Marcus’ smart phone rings, but it’s an unusual ring. One that he’s entirely certain that he hadn’t put on his phone. He picks it up and sees that he does not recognize the number. He answers it anyway.
Anderson: Hello? This is him. Where am I? I’m in Las Vegas. It’s kind of a ghost town with the coronavirus shutting down the vital tourist attractions. What do you mean that’s perfect? Who is this?
Marcus listens to the other person on the line talking for awhile, nodding as if this is something that can be translated across an audio only phone call.
Anderson: That’s not something that I would be doing. I own several businesses and manage Tarrasque. I don’t-
Marcus listens a bit more, looking a little pale as he listens.
Anderson: My father did what? Why would he ever do such a thing? I will not sit here and be told that I have to- I understand, I am in my father’s position. It will be carried out. Yes. Thank you for the opportunity.
Marcus hangs up the phone while Tarrasque looks at him expectantly.
Anderson: We have to play messenger. It might be time for you to flag someone down, Tarrasque.
Tarrasque: Hehehe. Me do.
Tarrasque stands up and walks outside of the hospital room where he lets loose a roar while flexing his muscles. A nurse stops in her tracks, afraid of the monster.
Nurse: Can I help you? Please, don’t hurt me.
Tarrasque: Marcus want leave.
The nurse peers in at Marcus, who has already begun to get dressed. He waves at her with a cheerful smile.
Anderson: If I could get my discharge papers and my ‘script, that would be great. You do want to free up the room?
The nurse looks nervously up at the towering Tarrasque and then back at Marcus.
Nurse: Right away, sir. I’ll have you out in a jiffy. Just...call him off?
Anderson: Tarrasque. Thank you for your help. Come back and join me, please.
Tarrasque walks past the nurse and takes his seat by the bed. Marcus pulls his shirt over his head, noticing that the nurse is gone by the time that he can see again.
It’s another fifteen minutes before the nurse is back with all of the paperwork that Marcus needs to be discharged. He picks up his medicine at the in house pharmacy, contacting an Uber as he does so. Once he and Tarrasque are in the car, he makes a phone call.
Anderson: Hey, this is Marcus Anderson. I’m with the Warhammer Corporation at level one. I need to do a meeting at your company with you and staff from all shifts. I’ll be there in...ahhh. How long until we get to our destination?
Uber Driver: Forty-five minutes.
Anderson: Did you get that? I’ll be there in forty-five minutes. Yeah, I know this last minute stuff is bullshit, but hey. We all have to play our parts right? I would hope that we could start the meeting within two hours of my arrival. See you then.
Marcus hangs up the phone and then dials another number.
Anderson: Hey. I’m going to be there in like forty-five minutes and the meeting should start within two hours. Be in position after that time as I expect that things will go downhill pretty fast once the meeting gets going. Nonlethal only, right? Good. Yeah, I know they will wish otherwise once they know where they’ll be going.
Marcus hangs up the phone, looking glum. He looks to Tarrasque for his only avenue of support. Tarrasque just grins, placing a hand on Marcus’ shoulder.
Tarrasque: You father do this too. You position power. You must use this power or they find someone else. Someone less nice.
Marcus nods with a sigh.
Anderson: Don’t I know it. I knew that certain duties would come with taking over my father’s holdings within the Warhammer Corporation, but I didn’t know that things would get this dastardly this fast. Tell me about the Rumble some more and your plans to keep my mind off what’s about to happen in a few short hours.
Tarrasque: You want me shoot like some monster?
Marcus grins.
Anderson: Why not? Tell me a little bit about each opponent that you can think of and what you think of them.
Tarrasque seems to consider this and eventually nods with a childlike grin.
Tarrasque: Me do. Me...comment...on them. First, me talk about Johnny Sniper. Him good for fight or him wheelchair? Eric Dane break him. How him be ready for fight like this? Him not. Him dangerous like Xiaolong. No danger.
Anderson: Isn’t Johnny Sniper that military guy? Marines or something. Wouldn’t he know how to power through the pain to be able to fight?
Tarrasque: Him neck was hurt. Neck take long time recover right. Me twist him head and him fall. Easy.
Marcus wrinkles his nose with a grin.
Anderson: So, you’re going to twist his head before throwing him out of the ring?
Tarrasque just shrugs.
Tarrasque: Me also see Psychotic Goth in ring.
Tarrasque bellows in an Ancient Greek dialect.
Anderson: The fuck did you call my mother?
Tarrasque just shrugs with an apologetic smile.
Tarrasque: Me no know. You know Ancient Greek?
Anderson: No.
Tarrasque: Me neither. Psychotic Goth. Him no goth. Him maybe crazy if him think him will win match. Victory mine.
Anderson: That makes some sense. What about some of the other wrestlers in the match. Got any in mind?
Tarrasque: Death Trap come mind. Him say him never win Rumble. Him not win this year either since me going win. Will me throw him out last? Me no know, but me will throw him out.
Anderson: Did you see Steve Awesome trying to do a fake montage of exercises to show that he was getting ready for the match?
Tarrasque just chuckles, slapping his knee.
Tarrasque: Him weak. Him do four push ups and him tired. Me blow him hard and him fall out ring.
Marcus narrows his eyes, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Anderson: You’re going to give him oral sex? You said you would blow him hard.
Tarrasque stands confused for a moment before his eyes go wide as what Marcus is talking about sinks in.
Tarrasque: No! Me no do that. Me hit him like hurricane. Him fly from ring like cow in tornado.
Anderson: That’s funny right there. Next?
Tarrasque: Anthony Caffrey. Him defeat me at Supremacy, but me eliminate him at SWAT. Me and him play again. This time me send him over the ropes instead break concrete boots. Me throw him skinny butt like dart.
Anderson: Now a lot of people are trash talking Caffrey. You’re joining in on that bandwagon?
Tarrasque only grins. Naturally, he doesn’t know what bandwagon means.
Anderson: If everyone else was jumping off a cliff, would you do it too?
Tarrasque: No! Me maybe climb down and eat dead dummies.
Marcus blinks at the open and cheerful mention of cannibalism.
Anderson: Really?
Tarrasque: No. Me no really eat people. No cannibals either. We ate last one last week.
Anderson: Oh.
Marcus sees that Tarrasque is stifling a laugh and gives him a curious look before he finally connects the dots.
Anderson: Ha ha, very funny. Before we slip into a sullen silence for the rest of our journey, you want to maybe give a few words about the champion, Zoran Sainovic?
Tarrasque: Zoran champion. Him am strong. Him fight defend title every SWAT show since winning. Fighting champion. Me honored be in ring with him. Me keep him from harm until me and him only and then me eliminate him last. Him deserve that.
Anderson: So, would you protect Zoran from being eliminated until it comes down to you and him?
Tarrasque: Why not?
Anderson: I suppose that it’s an interesting tactic though I would save someone a bit inferior to you as to make for an easy final elimination. Might I suggest Johnny Sniper or one of his Saga allies?
Tarrasque: No. Me want challenge. Zoran give me that.
Anderson: And why not I suppose.
The rest of the journey is spent in quiet small talk as the car pulls up in front of a distillery called Bottom of the Barrel. It’s a distillery that supplies bars and nightclubs the cheapest of boozes to be used in well drinks. Marcus Anderson and Tarrasque are met by Miles Lanning, CEO of the company.
They are taken on a tour of the facility. A facility that hasn’t been seen much use for weeks since the lockdown. The tour ends in a meeting hall large enough to house all of the employees of the company from office to line workers.
Lanning: We have a guest from the Warhammer Corporation today in the form of Marcus Anderson. I’m sure that he has some important info for us involving the coronavirus.
Marcus Anderson nervously swallows, looking around at the gathered crowd. He glances at Tarrasque, who smiles encouragingly. Marcus sighs, sending out a text message. He gets a response right away. Miles looks at him with a smile on his face, failing to hide his concern. Marcus mirrors the emotion before standing in front of the microphone.
Anderson: I don’t want to beat around the bush here. It insults me, it insults all of you. You know that the need for production has dropped significantly since the start of the lockdown.
Marcus looks around to see that Shocktroopers from Warhammer Security Inc have surrounded the crowd. Shocktroopers are the security (read private military) arm of the Warhammer Corporation. They look like cheap knock offs of Star Wars’ Stormtroopers down to the carapace armor.
Anderson: It has been...decided...that you are all inessential.
Lanning: What do you mean inessential? What is this? You’re killing us?
Anderson: Worse. Desolation needs an influx of new employees.
Lanning: No…
The Shocktroopers begin opening fire into the crowd with tranq darts, fighting hand to hand where the crowd try to break free.
Desolation. A place in central Africa owned by Warhammer Africa that is an industrial complex. The air, the land, and the water are all poisoned by decades of reckless industry. This is the heart of human trafficking in Africa as to replace the workers who die. And die they do by the thousands. Some by the poisons, some by workplace accidents, and some by violence. They all end up in the great furnace that powers the place, sending great globs of greasy smoke into the air. At the heart of darkness is the Tower of Faith where Cardinal Mariano Urizar, the Director of Warhammer Africa, rules from on high. The tower being so tall that it rises above the thick, mucousy air to glitter in the sunshine. The Cardinal is a firm believer that those workers in Desolation work themselves to death in aspiration to go to Heaven.
Miles Lanning takes a swing at Marcus, but the fist is caught by Tarrasque, who squeezes. Miles drops to his knees in pain.
Lanning: You can’t send us there. Who will operate this place once the lockdown ends?
Marcus wipes at his eyes, sniffing.
Anderson: They will hire all new employees…
Miles tries to stand up, but finds that he cannot against Tarrasque’s strength. He opens his mouth to yell, but then slouches over. A dart in the side of his neck.
In thirty minutes, it’s all over. The last of the employees are tranq’d and the Shocktroopers begin carrying unconscious employees out to be placed in the back of semi-trucks that have containers that can be transferred to a boat. Most of the employees will probably make it to Desolation alive…
Marcus Anderson and Tarrasque watch the operation being carried out in military precision.
Anderson: What have I done?
Tarrasque: You do what you have do. Me will do same in Rumble. Win.
