Dr. Zero
Fearsome Feathered Foe Most Foul
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01-08-2014, 11:47 AM
STEVIE GROWS A SET
Stevie found himself awake and staring at the ceiling as morning broke. He hadn’t been allowed to leave the compound after being named the new leader of The Order of the Owl. The room was nice, admittedly. He had never stayed in a room nicer. Stevie wasn’t even aware that beds this size were made. The carpet was insanely soft, the mattress wasn’t too firm or too fluffy, his purple sheets were seemingly made of silk…The view was amazing. Still, Stevie found it hard to get a good night’s rest in the home of the organization that, for the past few months, had made it their purpose to murder him.
There was a knock at the door, but his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling. He had no interest in talking with anyone here. Three men in black robes opened the door and made their way in. One of them spoke. “ALL HAIL THE OWL!”
“HAIL! HAIL!” the other two replied.
“Mr. Tyler, it is time for the ritual. Please, rise.” Stevie didn’t budge. The three men didn’t hesitate. They quickly wrapped him up in his sheets and lifted him from the bed. Stevie’s head dangled from the end sort of like rice out of a loose burrito. His heart was completely drained. They brought him into a huge room. The center of the room’s floor had a very large, ornate owl embedded in it. At the far end of the room was a massive throne. There were about twelve men, all in matching hooded robes all around. They sat Stevie in the huge throne, still draped in his purple sheets that now resembled robes themselves. His head slumped to his shoulder. He seemed almost sedated.
“ALL HAIL THE OWL!” one of the men shouted. They all hailed and whatever because they’re drones, obviously. Then, they all knelt and began to recited some bullshit in Latin. All of them. For nearly 40 goddamn minutes. The ground started to rumble, and from the darkness behind Stevie emerged this fucking thing.
Gah! What the fuck is that!? Jesus Christ!
All the acolytes laid down with their faces on the ground, none making a sound. The owl monster put its paws on Stevie’s shoulders.
“BEHOLD!” it said, with a voice that was shockingly similar to Mike Tysons. “THIS IS THE AVATAR OF…THE OWL!”
The robed guys sort of glanced up so they could “behold” then put their faces back to the ground.
“I’m not the avatar of a goddamn thing,” said Stevie stunning creation itself with the balls he suddenly developed.
The monster sort of let out a slight, embarrassed chuckle. “Ahem…Umm…Stevie? You KILLED my other avatar…soooooo…Yeah, man…Come on.”
Stevie shook his head.
“Ok, look…This is really embarrassing. What am I supposed to do without an avatar? Come ON, kid.”
“Look,” said Stevie, standing, “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. Like, A LOT a lot. And I’m really getting tired of being pushed around. I know I’m a loser. I know I’m a nerd. I get that. I really do. I fucking accept it. Whatever. But here I am…The girl of my dreams is fucking an even BIGGER loser than me, which makes a weird paradox where I’m actually a bigger loser than he is and nullifies…WHATEVER! Then, my mom and dad won’t speak to me, I don’t have the one job I had that was actually keeping me tied down to at least PRETEND I had a normal life, AND ALL OF THAT IS NOT TO MENTION THAT I HAVE TWO DEMONS LIVING IN ME THAT REFUSE TO LET ME DO ANYTHING I WANT so fuck you, dude, if you think you’re gonna’ just waltz up here and boss me around too. Fuck you, and fuck all your hooded guys and I don’t give a damn what you all do to me. I’m gonna’ die tonight anyway. Here I am with you and your cult and tonight I gotta’ fight a redneck cult leader that’s almost killed me before and some other guy and…Fuck it, I’m getting tired of being pushed to the side! How in the hell am I being pushed to the side in a wrestling match AND I’m the potential flashpoint of the end of the world? Eli and this John Raide guy are so focused on each other…I don’t even know what I want. Just kill me.
Fucking kill me, owlguy. I’m done with it. I seriously want out. I don’t want to have to see one more stupid, uncreative, unoriginal, ugly goddamn monster”
“Jeez, you didn’t have to be so hurtful,” said the owl monster. "I thought this was what you wanted…I mean, nobody really kills the avatar, you know? Not unless that’s what they’re wanting...This sorta’ puts me in a weird spot, man. I mean, the world’s gonna’ end soon because of you and that’s the only reason we’ve been after you.”
“DUDE! You didn’t have to try to kill me! You could’ve just, I don’t know…HELPED KEEP THE SHIT AWAY FROM ME!”
“Is…is that what it’ll take to get you to be the avatar?”
“Sure, fine…Fuck it. Whatever. And let me go home. And leave me the hell alone.”
“Deal. ALL HAIL THE OWL!”
“HAIL THE OWL! HAIL THE OWL!” said the cult members.
With that, the owl monster pours a few drops of water on his Stevie’s head and lets him walk out the door. A cab meets him at the door and takes him back to his apartment. Stevie walks in and Nura is there to greet him.
“Get out,” said Stevie.
“No can do, kiddo,” replied Nura. “Look, I already heard about you and the owl guy.” Stevie seemed perplexed. “Word travels fast in the spirit world. I don’t know him well enough to know why he let you go, if he even truly did, but for me…As long as you keep Doritos stashed in the kitchen, I’ll be here.”
Fuck. That explains his orange tint today. He’ll never leave.
“I’ve tried being nice to you, and that’s really because I kinda’ like you. I think you’re a good kid. But you’re also no badass. So don’t try to pretend. Save that posturing for someone else. You should go get some rest so you can at least run away from those two assholes tonight. Your only shot is if they exhaust themselves.”
Sometimes Nura can be a dick, even though he doesn’t actually have one.
Stevie pulled Gary’s mask out of his pocket and looked at it angrily. Stamina’s not all he’s got.
Co-Winner of the Lethal Lottery Tournament with Egyptian Snow Pharaoh
1x 24/7 FTW UFO E1999 Champion
December 2013 Star of the Month
5-0-1
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