DEFAULT DREAMING [ORPHAN 2 / I-W 1]

[mtc]

In the heart of Grady Memorial Hospital, one of the doctor's offices looks suspiciously like a mad science lab.  Beakers glow, tubes carry elecrtical currents to no where in particular, and nothing seems practical outside of a 50s horror film.  In this cryptic environment - Doctor Hamster stands in the centre of a giant electromagnetic apparatus that looks suspiciously like a Zorbing.

Doc Hamster:
They called me crazy to try to harness the raw speed of a hamster to combat declining sales in the travel industry, but who is crazy now?  When I show them my research into- wait- no, this can't be.  Power over-loading… someone has disengaged the safety breakers- NO!

Yes.  Sparks shoot out of every available socket in his laboratory, filling the room with smoke. As the last few explosions take care of the remaining electrical equipment, a small figure works its way around medical debris.

Doc Hamster:
Where is the hatch to this stupid ball?  I... I can’t get out... I try to move forward but it just keeps spinning.

The smoke clears to reveal Doc H trapped inside his giant hamster ball.

Doc Hamster:
I’m more HAMSTER THAN MAN-

And just like that... a super villain is born.

“Poor Mister Doctor, you are probably wondering who is responsible for your misfortune.”

Doc Hamster (trying to run in his ball):
Ugh compulsion to chew wood chips rising-

The CAR Orphan emerges from the smoke.

Tinto:
I saw a man pulling cables, if you hurry you can probably catch him. I just happen to have a picture of him...

Holding up a copy of the Squared Circle Observatory, Tinto has helpfully opened the rag to a photograph of BEEF in action. The small child no doubt hopes this horror of science can eliminate another one of his rumble rivals before the match even begins.

Tinto:
He goes by the name, Mister Meat. I’m sure he didn’t mean to turn you into a horrible monster who would drive his own mother to scream!  Why would he?  And if you ask Mister Meat for an apology, there will be no need for further bloodshed.

Doc Hamster:
MUST EAT BABIES!

Yeah, forget about Hollywood specializing in it, Hamsters do that. The deranged medical associate in the plastic ball starts salivating at he looks at the small child.

Tinto:
Good for you, I like pop rocks myself.  Once I fit seventeen of them in my mouth.  I don't know how I'm still alive, except that I am probably a superhero.  Saving the universe one pop rock at a time.  It is a gift.  What?  Why are you looking at-

Doc Hamster licks his lips.

Tinto (indignant):
I’M NOT A BABY!

Those are fighting words! The little boy slowly starts rolling up his sleeves, as the bloodthirsty freak rolls towards him.

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Second before the ball can pounce, a flying robot woman gets between the two! With her detachable rocket arms, The Industrial Woman manages to keep the beast at bay.

I-W:
MOTHER MASCOT DESIGNATE TINTO, DEPART!

Tinto:
Don’t let him hurt your Rumble chances, pretty robot lady!

The small child hides a smile as he thinks about another rival he can cross off his list. Reaching down, Tinto makes sure to leave the magazine open on BEEF’s picture, praying that maybe he can eliminate two birds with one giant hamster wheelman.

---

Skipping down the hospital corridor, Tinto almost runs right into the rest of his team.


Bogdan Tomas:
Where's the fire, sport?

Norman Krabbe:

There you are... Tinto we’ve been looking all over for you.

Smiling at his well-meaning friends, the little boy lulls them into a false sense of security before making a run for it.

Bogdan Tomas:

TINTO – WAIT!

Turning a sharp corner, Tinto swings open an emergency door...

...To find Redmond Fury trying to escape the ER, with 48 lusty nurses clinging too him. Fortunately the wall of muscle is still able to move, despite the dozens of medical professionals in heat that are wrapped around his ankles.

Redmond Fury:
TINTO, hold the door-

Lusty Nurse #3:
We can't discharge you without family consent, is there a MRS Fury?

Redmond Fury:
That is very sweet of you but I-

Lusty Nurse #32:
You can’t go; we have to take your temperature!

The little boy takes a step back, letting the door slowly close.

Redmond Fury:
I’m flattered ladies, but I have a rumble to get to...

Lusty Nurse #17:
Don’t leave me!

Even after BEEF almost took his arm, Fury still wants to compete in the Rumble. Risking his career rather than let the fans down.  What an amazing person.  Tinto physically shoves the door shut.

Redmond Fury:
Wai-

Despite the love sick arms pulling at his bulging muscles, Fury manages to pull forward… just as the door closes on his Rumble chances.

Tinto:
That was not age appropriate, and made me uncomfortable.

The little boy wonders if his weekly allowance will cover paying someone to hit Lord Dominicus in the kneecap with a sledgehammer, and still leave him enough to rent a copy of the Dead Space remake? 

Norman Krabbe:

Tinto-

Tinto:

AH!

His enemies have snuck up behind him! With lightning reflexes the little boy turns with a swing – punching Norman as hard as he can. The beanpole doesn’t even notice. Tinto shakes his hand trying to restore feeling, having apparently hurt it with the glancing blow.

Norman Krabbe:
Did you hurt yourself-

Tinto (trying not to cry as he holds his hand):
nnnnnoooooo...

Norman Krabbe:

If you're sure?  Well, Me and Bogdan have been talking it over, and we think the best thing you can do in the rumble... is climb over the top rope, and find a place to sit on the steel steps. That way, you won’t be eliminated, but you won’t get stepped on either.

Tinto (pretty sure he broke his hand but putting on his big boy face):

I’m not afraid.

Redmond Fury:
Anyone-

The door next to them slams, as Fury desperately tries to open it, even while being torn apart.

Tinto:

I’m listening...

Feigning interest, Tinto leads Krabbe away from the tortured screams of MISTER Guns.

Tinto:

Why not just go under the bottom rope-

Norman Krabbe (clearly lying to the child):

They’d see right through that- no, make it so that anyone can get rid of you easily, and you have a much better chance of winning.

The two continue down the hallway, where they are greeted by I-W.  Drat.

Tinto (very concerned):

Miss Robot Lady, did you hurt my pet?

I-W:

The Medical Professional has been subdued.

Tinto:

Does he look like he could still take BEEF in a fight?

I-W:

Time to remove wire from jawline required.  The Medical Professional will be unable to chew meats for approximately two months.

Tinto:

Nuts.

Why does everything bad always happen to Tinto?

Norman Krabbe:

Indie, I was just explaining how much sneakier it would be if he hid on the outside.

The robot nods, before kneeling next to the troubled child.

I-W:

MOTHER MASCOT DESIGNATE TINTO, lower your unit’s anxiety levels. In the event designated Rumble, this unit will make sure you stay in factory sealed condition.

Tinto:

You will?

Norman Krabbe:

Indie, really, it would be a lot better if he didn’t even step in the ring-

I-W:

Correct. Unfortunately, probability reports indicate there is a ninety-nine point nine one percent chance that Mother Mascot Designate Tinto will engage in ring conflict.

Tinto:

No there isn’t.

I-W:

Correction, there is.

Tinto:
There is more like a gazillion percent chance I win.

I-W:
That does not compute.

Tinto:
Yes it does!

The child continues his nonsensical Yes/No argument game, but the MOTHER automobile turned femme fatale ignores him, speaking instead to her driver.

I-W:

So this unit will act as a shield. Any participant looking to eliminate MO- our mascot, will have to get through this un- me.

Norman Krabbe:
Hang on-

Wait, did he hear that right? A proper bodyguard.

Tinto:

Thanks Miss Robot Lady!

Why is he wasting all this time trying to win the Rumble by default? All Tinto needs for victory is a moderate sized army of guest stars to win it for him!

Tinto:

This is going to be the best Tinto’s Thirteen Sequel yet!

It really will.