<HollyhockGod> What will you be doing in Vegas?
<ViktorWalters> Well, first, have I gotten a job at Mercury Monthly or whatever we agreed upon?
<HollyhockGod> If you want to, tell me how you did it.
<ViktorWalters> Well, first, I found out who the other applicants were before applying for the opening, and caused their applications and credentials to be very boring, and thusly not worth notice. Then I applied, using a pseudonym for "artistic reasons".
<HollyhockGod> You didn't actually show up?
<HollyhockGod> What are the job requirements, anyway?
<ViktorWalters> I didn't think there were many other than a short history of stints in writing journals and newspapers, which Viktor has under this pseudonym (as he writes normally anyway, just dully). I guess he would arrive in person, but nevertheless he uses a pseudonym.
<ViktorWalters> the psuedonym being H.L. Wingates
<HollyhockGod> What job are you applying for?
<ViktorWalters> I'm unsure of the name for it, but I think it's an editorial?
<HollyhockGod> A regular post, or a series?
<ViktorWalters> A regular post. This time I'll be covering a race occuring in/near Las Vegas
<HollyhockGod> Fair enough. With your powers, it's very simple to be the only candidate who's not totally horrendous.
<HollyhockGod> How will you present yourself.
<ViktorWalters> Can I just go out a guise myself among trendy writers at a coffee house and head from there to the place?
<ViktorWalters> Or does the guise change as you go?
<HollyhockGod> I don't think a Guise works like that.
<HollyhockGod> You could just act trendy.
<HollyhockGod> I just mean, what kind of person are you pretending to be for your article?
<ViktorWalters> Viktor adopts a rose colored monocle, a journalistic vest (just something to hold pen, paper, voice recorder, etc) and a trendy personality. Khaki pants too.
<ViktorWalters> He's trying to look eccentric in a trendy, outrageous way. Something that is enjoyed by the tabloids
<HollyhockGod> All right, so you're shipped out to the races, so tell me about those, too.
<ViktorWalters> Basically, they've reinstated the Mint 400 road race
<ViktorWalters> with the opening of the new Mint Hotel
<ViktorWalters> off road race
<ViktorWalters> that is
<HollyhockGod> Is this horses?
<ViktorWalters> four wheeled vehicles
<ViktorWalters> experimental cars
<ViktorWalters> what year is this again?
<HollyhockGod> Right now.
<ViktorWalters> in the game
<ViktorWalters> that was an answer
<ViktorWalters> Ok, then just experimental cars
<ViktorWalters> vehicles, anything that people think of using
<ViktorWalters> it's supposed to be controversial
<ViktorWalters> Hm, the original Mint 400 used motorcycles too, so throw those in
<ViktorWalters> It's in the desert, by the way, being Las Vegas
<HollyhockGod> Oh, my.
<HollyhockGod> Tell me about the venue.
<ViktorWalters> Las Vegas desert. Large amounts of dust in the wind kicked up by motorcycles and cars doing doughnuts and such for the photojournalists that are running about in the area.
<ViktorWalters> Mostly flat, no greenery in sight due to massive amounts of vehicles
<ViktorWalters> Off in the distance where the starting line is
<ViktorWalters> you can see the dull glow of Vegas off in the east
<ViktorWalters> the race is funded by one of the descendants of Del Webb, Sandra Webb
<ViktorWalters> she runs the New Mint Hotel and Casino
<ViktorWalters> Is this helpful? Yes/no?
<HollyhockGod> I'd like most to hear about what the viewers are doing..
<HollyhockGod> Also, the betting!
<HollyhockGod> Where's the Greed in this equation?
<ViktorWalters> Oh, yes, that reminds me, there's a set of huts in a semicircle off next to the stands
<ViktorWalters> tents, really
<ViktorWalters> they're filled with makeshift bars and poker tables, along with roullette
<ViktorWalters> And, of course, a betting tent, as this is being billed as the richest race in America
<ViktorWalters> Most of the Vegas lot are off getting sloshed in the bars and losing massive amounts of money at gambling
<HollyhockGod> I thought there was a hotel opening
<ViktorWalters> Yes, but that's back in Vegas
<ViktorWalters> the race traditionally was a bit away from Vegas
<ViktorWalters> that's opening after the race.
<ViktorWalters> nevermind, it's open already and thats where most of the people are staying, but the race /has/ to be outside of Vegas
<ViktorWalters> Shall we say it's the day of the race, or beforehand?
<HollyhockGod> Whichever is more convenient.
<HollyhockGod> Decide, and then do something interesting.
<HollyhockGod> Then plot will happen.
<ViktorWalters> If it is, just take this as a prelude to when the race begins
<ViktorWalters> I sorta wanted to find some supernatural drugs to get fucked up on before coming, but I think that might be a bit too silly?
<HollyhockGod> No, not really.
<HollyhockGod> It's METHOD.
<ViktorWalters> No, it wouldn't be silly?
<HollyhockGod> Where would you get them from?
<ViktorWalters> hm… Lust might have some. Is there a power of Gluttony that I don't know of?
<HollyhockGod> I have yet to invent one, so no.
<HollyhockGod> "Dear Power of Lust, please send me three kilos of drugs powerful enough to really screw with my head. Signed, Ennui."
<ViktorWalters> Heh, that might not go over well
<ViktorWalters> Ooh, maybe Dr. Savan has something along those lines?
<ViktorWalters> Eh, nevermind
<ViktorWalters> Let's see, how to get the Power of Lust to give me drugs.
<ViktorWalters> I can't just ask Greed, now can I?
<HollyhockGod> Doesn't seem like his thing.
<HollyhockGod> Also he'd say no!
<ViktorWalters> Ooh. Maybe Laughter?
<ViktorWalters> He seems up to something for journalistic reasons.
<ViktorWalters> Then how about I try giving Laughter a ring? For the humor that would be caused by the Power Of Boredom getting fucked up on supernatural drugs, he must gimme something psychotropic.
<ViktorWalters> And enough of it to last the time in Vegas.
<HollyhockGod> Hm, what's the best way to get in touch.
<HollyhockGod> I guess you could have sent a letter.
<HollyhockGod> And then he might have sent you some!
<ViktorWalters> maybe a letter to tell I wished to arrive and then after acceptance I arrive?
<HollyhockGod> So you're completely hallucinating now.
<HollyhockGod> That's as much detail as I want to go into that right now.
<ViktorWalters> Alright, to the Mint Hotel and Casino, to get my room (ensured to me by the tabloid)
<ViktorWalters> hallucination and all.
<HollyhockGod> No, tell me more about your hallucinations!
<ViktorWalters> Oh, I thought you didn't want to talk about that.
<HollyhockGod> No, I want lots of details like that!
<HollyhockGod> Just wondering how you got magical drugs.
<ViktorWalters> I suppose I'm hallucinating that everyone has monocles, top hats, capes, and alternatingly blue and red shoes as I'm heading in?
<ViktorWalters> Or do you want to hear the whole trip?
<ViktorWalters> Also, the floor is lava.
<ViktorWalters> that was Viktor's favorite childhood game.
<ViktorWalters> (Let's assume that as he goes the hallucinations are going to get progressively darker)
<ViktorWalters> Yes, indeed.
<ViktorWalters> On the way I've been assaulted by bats (ala bat country) and attacked by nazi hitchhikers
<HollyhockGod> Even better!
<HollyhockGod> So, you check into your hotel room, which is full of snakes.
<ViktorWalters> Yes, of course. I stay as far away as I can so that I might study their habits.
<HollyhockGod> So you're perched on the TV stand, making furious notes.
<ViktorWalters> something along the lines of "Jesus God! What are these goddamn animals?" And Viktor takes a cane from one of the passing noblemen and pokes at the snakes.
<ViktorWalters> Yes, after that episode.
<ViktorWalters> I'm supposed to phone a correspondent at one point about my arrival, but they know my number so they can call the room at any time.
<ViktorWalters> Meanwhile, I'm writing notations about these goddamn snakes.
<ViktorWalters> The cane was inneffective.
<ViktorWalters> So Viktor knows that these snakes are goddamn cane repellant.
<HollyhockGod> When do you plan to do actual work?
<ViktorWalters> Whenever the fellow calls and breaks me out of my drug-snake reverie.
<ViktorWalters> Or a room service comes and lets the snakes out.
<ViktorWalters> minus the a.
<HollyhockGod> All right, let's suppose somebody calls and says he's the correspondent. (Although he sounds to you like a gingerbread man.)
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<HollyhockGod> He wants to know when you can meet with him.
<ViktorWalters> "They've put goddamn snakes in my hotel room! Oh, the meeting? Um. Meet me down in the bar of the Mint hotel. There will definitely be less snakes."
<ViktorWalters> "I don't have time for cereal here! Snakes!"
<ViktorWalters> *hangs up*
<HollyhockGod> And then he hangs up. Or maybe his gingerbread hand broke off and he dropped the phone.
<ViktorWalters> The phone becomes a snake, which isn't very comforting.
<ViktorWalters> So Viktor puts it down, tosses the snakes a piece of a cookie he has in his pocket (actually a 10 dollar bill) and dashes for the door.
<HollyhockGod> Suddenly, as you enter the bar, you realize that your Estate is under attack!
<ViktorWalters> can a major divination of boredom discover where?
<ViktorWalters> and/or how
<HollyhockGod> These people are slumped over their drinks, in an alchoholic stupor!
<HollyhockGod> They're bored, but enjoying it!
<HollyhockGod> THIS MUST NOT STAND.
<HollyhockGod> Clearly an Excrucian is responsible, or possibly a chemus witch.
<ViktorWalters> Or maybe those goddamn snakes.
<HollyhockGod> Don't be foolish; a snake couldn't carry bottles of beer.
<ViktorWalters> Yes, of course. Thank you.
<ViktorWalters> Obviously the Excrucians are in league with the snakes.
<ViktorWalters> And maybe whoever is selling these godawful red and blue shoes.
<HollyhockGod> It's the only explanation that makes sense!
<ViktorWalters> Does a minor creation of boredom work against these ne'erdowells?
<ViktorWalters> Wait, creating more boredom would only make them enjoy it more.
<ViktorWalters> Can I just slap them around a bit?
<HollyhockGod> Sure, why not?
<ViktorWalters> Or sober them
<HollyhockGod> I don't think you can do that.
<ViktorWalters> can I do a destruction of boredom?
<ViktorWalters> I'm missing my nobilis rule set
<HollyhockGod> You're a Regal; do as you please.
<ViktorWalters> Then fine, I make them not-bored.
<ViktorWalters> So that this dreaded bored-enjoyment goes away
<HollyhockGod> In fact, you're a supremely stoned Regal, so don't be afraid to destroy Las Vegas.
<HollyhockGod> Or Nevada, in fact
<ViktorWalters> If they have anything to do with these snakes..
<HollyhockGod> The dreadful tainted boredom explodes in a rain of purple, filling the bar with wind.
<ViktorWalters> Is it a good smelling wind?
<ViktorWalters> Like lavender?
<HollyhockGod> The barflies begin to take a great interest in their drinks.
<HollyhockGod> In fact, just one drink is not enough.
<ViktorWalters> hm. That bodes well for these barflies.
<HollyhockGod> Everybody begins crowding up against the bar, demanding refills.
<ViktorWalters> Ye gads, they're giving alcohol to these goddamn creatures?
<HollyhockGod> Having learned that alchohol is fascinating, all of the badly-dressed Britons begin swarming in, beating their canes against the the bar and demanding port.
<HollyhockGod> You hear the hissing of the approaching snakes!
<HollyhockGod> They must want beer also!
<ViktorWalters> Let them have their pisswater!
<ViktorWalters> I must find my correspondent, to co-ordinate a counter attack
<ViktorWalters> We shall flank the snakes, with journalistic integrity!
<ViktorWalters> (if you want to initiate the Reptile room scene, go ahead)
<ViktorWalters> What's my correspondents name? Horatio Jimenez? Ah, yes.
<ViktorWalters> If I see him, he's dressed as a spanish conquistador.
<HollyhockGod> The correspondent approaches!
<HollyhockGod> It's the Excrucian from last Thursday, but you can tell he's the correspondent because he has a piece of paper pinned to his chest that says "Correspondent."
<ViktorWalters> Oh. That's odd.
<HollyhockGod> "Ah, Mr. Wingates," he says. "I'm Jimenez, your correspondent."
<ViktorWalters> "Why are you not dressed as we planned? The conquistador is the only thing that could destroy the snakes. They killed those goddamn snake worshipping Aztecs, you know."
<HollyhockGod> The Excrucian cocks his head at you.
<HollyhockGod> Then he says "Oh. Well. I suppose drug use isn't really unexpected in this line of work. Just be sure you get your bylines in on time."
<ViktorWalters> "Yes, um, snakes."
<HollyhockGod> The bartender looks panicked in the background. (He may be running out of beers as the Britons and snakes drink it all.)
<ViktorWalters> Hm. That's not good. He's getting too excited.
<ViktorWalters> Make him bored, Captain Viktor!
<ViktorWalters> This is normal. It is VEGAS. People DRINK.
* ViktorWalters 's mind powers are go.
<HollyhockGod> The bartender realizes that everything is perfectly normal, and begins handing out the last reserves of Crown Royal Special.
<ViktorWalters> That's better.
<ViktorWalters> Now, to the correspondent.
<ViktorWalters> I rip off a the piece of paper on my pad which is scribbled with snake notations and stuff it in his shirt pocket (if he has one)
<ViktorWalters> "Keep this close. The snakes are soon to be without their pisswater. We need to decide which of the racers is a snake-lover."
<HollyhockGod> "There are seventy or so racers. How do you propose to figure this out?"
<ViktorWalters> "That's obvious. The only people that like snakes are Britons, Aztecs… and, um… Nazis."
<ViktorWalters> "So we simply have to see if they have canes, tophats, swastikas, or quetzocoatls on their vehicles."
<ViktorWalters> "Tell me if you see an iron cross. Those are the worst."
<HollyhockGod> "I will observe this. But what if they wear a cunning disguise?" asks the Excrucian?
<ViktorWalters> "I'll simply set myself aflame."
<ViktorWalters> "This will frighten them. They'll think me a God."
<ViktorWalters> "Wait, no, that won't do… lacks subtlety."
<HollyhockGod> "Does a God require subtlety?"
<ViktorWalters> "Am I a God? Who told you that?"
<ViktorWalters> Viktor gets frightened and looks at the Excrucian closely
<ViktorWalters> A bit too closely for comfort.
<ViktorWalters> "Did the goddamn snakes tell you that?"
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<HollyhockGod> "I can't talk to snakes. They bite."
<ViktorWalters> "Yes, of course, silly me."
<HollyhockGod> "They're toothsome and- oh, look, that little girl is biting someone's arm off to get at the last bottle of vodka."
<ViktorWalters> "That's no girl! It's a snake!"
<ViktorWalters> Viktor looks either way
<HollyhockGod> "I'm pretty sure it's an eleven-year-old. But I could be wrong!"
<ViktorWalters> What does Viktor see?
<ViktorWalters> He doubts the word of this possible snake lover.
<ViktorWalters> Correspondent or not.
<HollyhockGod> It does in fact look as though a small child is committing acts of violence in order to obtain alcohol.
<HollyhockGod> And, oh, dear, they've dropped the bottle. Smash!
<ViktorWalters> That's not good. Young girls can't drink.
<HollyhockGod> The bar is being torn apart as various Britons ransack it for more booze.
<HollyhockGod> Unless she's a snake.
<ViktorWalters> Boredom to her too! She shall be bored of drink until forever.
<HollyhockGod> That's no fun!
<ViktorWalters> then she shall be bored of violence.
<HollyhockGod> ALSO NOT FUN
<ViktorWalters> I'm the power of Boredom! That's what I DO!
<HollyhockGod> I don't think you're actively supposed to make my plots boring.
<ViktorWalters> I didn't think I was.
<ViktorWalters> Could I make something else more interesting to her by destroying the boredom sorrounding it?
<HollyhockGod> Oh, well. No little girl leading an army of boozehounds, then.
<ViktorWalters> How the hell would I do that/
<ViktorWalters> Because I would love to do that.
<ViktorWalters> I could organize an army of boozehounds to defeat the snakes!
<HollyhockGod> I don't know, just do it!
<HollyhockGod> Make a speech.
<ViktorWalters> Viktor jumps upon the bar, grabs one of the remaining bottles of booze, and holds it high. "To the meekest of you, I bequeath the greatest! Learn this lesson and hold it close to your hearts, and you shall defeat the vile snakes who have taken your booze! Follow this alcohol messiah, to the room I hold, where there is a veritable army of snakes! THEY HAVE BOOZE!" He yells in his most outrageously entrancing accent, whilst
<ViktorWalters> He gives the little girl the booze and points her in the right direction.
<ViktorWalters> Also, he's using his best British accent to do this.
<HollyhockGod> It's a good thing all these people are drunk
<ViktorWalters> "For LA FRANCE!" (which makes about as much sense as anything else)
<ViktorWalters> Yes, yes it is.
<HollyhockGod> You form a mob, that begins stampeding into the elevators and stairwells to mob your hotel room.
<ViktorWalters> Good to know. What is my correspondent doing?
<HollyhockGod> He's using a toothpick to carve blasphemous sigils into the bar.
<ViktorWalters> As a note, some of the Britons have most likely transformed and rolled out, as it were.
<ViktorWalters> (They're robots in diguise, you know)
<ViktorWalters> Perhaps I should leave this mob be
<ViktorWalters> I'll let them go and go to ask about the sigils
<ViktorWalters> "What witchcraft is this? Have the alchemists and warlocks joined us to fight the snakes?"
<HollyhockGod> "Oh, I beg your pardon. I was just undermining the natural order of Creation. It's a nervous habit."
<HollyhockGod> "We should be at the races, shouldn't we?"
<ViktorWalters> "Yes, of course. To see the nazis."
<HollyhockGod> You ride in his pale white car out to see the races.
<HollyhockGod> The races are full of Swedes!
<HollyhockGod> They're all blond and very tall.
<HollyhockGod> But possibly they're Vikings come to slay the dragons.
<HollyhockGod> All the tents are full of dragons playing the slots.
<ViktorWalters> Dragons are like Snakes!
<ViktorWalters> I should join the swedes.
<ViktorWalters> What is my correspondent doing?
<ViktorWalters> Driving to the dragons, or the swedes?
<HollyhockGod> He's parking in the parking lot.
<ViktorWalters> There's a parking lot?
<HollyhockGod> He said there was. It looks like a ball pit full of children to you.
<ViktorWalters> Are they snakelike in any way?
<HollyhockGod> They're… all lying on the ground.
<HollyhockGod> Twitching a bit, mebbe.
<ViktorWalters> Hm. Good. If they were motionless, they'd be invisible to the swedes.
<ViktorWalters> Swedish vision is based on motion.
<HollyhockGod> I didn't know that!
<HollyhockGod> "I'm shocked!" says the correspondent.
<ViktorWalters> "Was I thinking aloud?"
<HollyhockGod> "This entire race is being run by dragons playing roulette!"
<ViktorWalters> "You see them too?!"
<HollyhockGod> "As a responsible journalist, I can't permit this!"
<ViktorWalters> "Neither can I!"
<ViktorWalters> "And I'm not a responsible journalist!"
<HollyhockGod> "Then I'll write the article, responsibly."
<HollyhockGod> "You can slaughter them all. If you see any gold, you can keep it."
<ViktorWalters> "And I'll write the article irresponsibly?"
<HollyhockGod> "Later, later."
<ViktorWalters> "Slaughter? You know of my dragon killing expertise?"
<HollyhockGod> "I assumed it from your manly stagger."
<ViktorWalters> "Well, my stagger IS manly."
<ViktorWalters> "But I am sworn not to kill!"
<ViktorWalters> "It is the journalistic way!"
<HollyhockGod> "Well, beat them up a bit."
<ViktorWalters> "That'll show the Nazis!"
<ViktorWalters> But first!
<HollyhockGod> "Put a stop to their fascist roulette! The pen is mightier than the sword, especially if the pen is very pointy!"
<ViktorWalters> To unite the Swedish tribes against the Nazis!
<ViktorWalters> And perhaps the ballpit children
<HollyhockGod> Indeed! How will this be accomplished?
<ViktorWalters> Do you suppose I can rouse the ballpit children?
<ViktorWalters> By unborinating them?
<HollyhockGod> They look awfully squished to you.
<HollyhockGod> Perhaps they're sad.
<ViktorWalters> "Hm, I cannot help the sorrow of the children!"
<ViktorWalters> "But perhaps…"
<ViktorWalters> I pray to Laurel to get her help with the sorrowful children, for great justice!
<HollyhockGod> The heavens ignore you.
<ViktorWalters> "The snakes have gotten to Laurel!"
<ViktorWalters> I dash to the Swedes.
<HollyhockGod> Swedes, Swedes, everywhere a Swede!
<ViktorWalters> "REGONOMICS! You Swedes must aid me in the destruction of the fascist roulette players! Your ancestor Vikings have no love for Dragons, and EVERYONE hates nazis!"
<HollyhockGod> The burly Swedes look at you askance, apparently doubting your prowess as a slayer of dragons and leader of men.
<ViktorWalters> "Do you not see my manly swagger!?"
<ViktorWalters> I swagger.
<ViktorWalters> Or stagger, one of those.
<HollyhockGod> The Vikings pretend you aren't there.
<ViktorWalters> Ah, then obviously it is the greeting I have forgotten! In response, I pretend I am not here.
<ViktorWalters> I make the race very boring, and the gambling very interesting through a destruction of boredom (I think that works)
<ViktorWalters> For the swedes
<HollyhockGod> And… there's a stampede for the roulette tables.
<HollyhockGod> The dragons are crushed underfoot by manly Viking clogs!
<ViktorWalters> Justice wins the day!
<HollyhockGod> You hear them hiss, "hiss, hiss!"
<ViktorWalters> I write this down, of course.
<ViktorWalters> I also return to the correspondent, resplendent in my glory.
<HollyhockGod> "Brilliant!" says the correspondent.
<HollyhockGod> "But what about the facists all over town?"
<ViktorWalters> "My army of Britons has likely beaten the snakes and turned to the fascists. Do you doubt their power?"
<HollyhockGod> "They surely will require reinforcements!"
<ViktorWalters> "Are you suggesting Swedes and Britons, fighting as one?"
<ViktorWalters> To the Swedes!
<ViktorWalters> I shall rally them, and point them to the greater amounts of gambling in Vegas.
<HollyhockGod> And your army of Swedes rushes off to possess all the poker for their own.
<HollyhockGod> A job well done.
<HollyhockGod> So, now what?
<ViktorWalters> The race, of course. Where are the racers?
<HollyhockGod> Storming Vegas.
<HollyhockGod> Or they were snakes and got trampled!
<ViktorWalters> I should write all of this down and go survey my forces.
<ViktorWalters> And bring the correspondent. He is my lieutenant.
<HollyhockGod> Write write write.
<HollyhockGod> You take Jimenez to survey Las Vegas, which is now in flames.
<HollyhockGod> The Belagio has been taken over by the Vikings, while the Britons have secured any number of bars and made them into bases.
<HollyhockGod> The police (all of them male strippers) are completely failing to restore order.
<ViktorWalters> Where do the Nazis stand?
<ViktorWalters> POLICE! FASCISTS!
<HollyhockGod> Perhaps the Nazis removed their clothing, did some crunches, and are disguised as policemen?
<ViktorWalters> I make protecting Las Vegas boring for them and bars interesting.
<ViktorWalters> THE AMBUSH AWAITS!
<HollyhockGod> And… the ambush happens.
<ViktorWalters> Now where to find Paul Revere?
<HollyhockGod> Soon the streets are littered with the bodies of dead strippers.
<ViktorWalters> Good, good, all good.
<ViktorWalters> What does my lieutenant think?
<HollyhockGod> "Excellent, excellent. This will make a very good news report."
<ViktorWalters> It is around this time the drugs should probably be going a bit darker.
<HollyhockGod> NO REALLY?
<ViktorWalters> YA RLY
<HollyhockGod> The dead strippers are talking to you.
<ViktorWalters> What do the damn dead nazis say?
<ViktorWalters> Do they wish me to start a nuclear war at the gay bar?
<HollyhockGod> They want you to cleanse the town with fire.
<HollyhockGod> To destroy their sins!
<ViktorWalters> Yes, of course, the dead only speak the truth
<ViktorWalters> like Dear Laurel
<ViktorWalters> Poor, poor Laurel
<ViktorWalters> I huddle and cry for a bit, in mourning
<ViktorWalters> Then, to the fire I go!
<HollyhockGod> How will you burn the place
<ViktorWalters> The only way! Through my fire powers, bequeathed to me by the Viking King. Also known as Molotv Cocktails
<ViktorWalters> Swedes know how to do this. They know SCIENCE.
<HollyhockGod> So, you start throwing molotov cocktails.
<ViktorWalters> Yes, of course.
<ViktorWalters> That should be Viktor's catchphrase.
<HollyhockGod> This soon spreads across the city as the rioting spreads, and soon Vegas is engulfed in flames.
<HollyhockGod> By the time the national guard arrives, most of the city has burnt to the ground.
<HollyhockGod> The fire is singing to you.
<ViktorWalters> "Love is a burning thing
<ViktorWalters> and it makes a firery ring
<ViktorWalters> bound by wild desire
<ViktorWalters> I fell in to a ring of fire…
<ViktorWalters> I fell in to a burning ring of fire
<ViktorWalters> I went down,down,down
<ViktorWalters> and the flames went higher.
<ViktorWalters> And it burns,burns,burns
<ViktorWalters> the ring of fire
<ViktorWalters> the ring of fire.
<ViktorWalters> The taste of love is sweet
<ViktorWalters> when hearts like our's meet
<ViktorWalters> I fell for you like a child
<ViktorWalters> oh, but the fire went wild.."
<ViktorWalters> That's what *I* sing.
<ViktorWalters> What do the flames sing?
<HollyhockGod> "Viktor is stupid, Viktor is stupid…." in a sing-song little girl voice.
<ViktorWalters> That's not nice!
<ViktorWalters> I argue with the fire that I brought it into this world, and can easily take it back!
<ViktorWalters> With SCIENCE!
<HollyhockGod> You yell at the fires, but you're having difficulty walking.
<ViktorWalters> What's wrong with my legs?
<HollyhockGod> They don't seem to like you anymore.
<ViktorWalters> Are they in league with the snakes?
<HollyhockGod> It's possible.
<ViktorWalters> Oh shit.
<HollyhockGod> Things are becoming blurry!
<ViktorWalters> Then I must retreat to the desert, where snakes do not live! That's only in country westerns.
<HollyhockGod> You stagger towards the desert, and fall on your face.
<ViktorWalters> Fucking ground. It's probably in league with the snakes too. Like my legs.
<ViktorWalters> I'm assuming I've gone unconcious?
<ViktorWalters> Or just wriggling on the ground?
<HollyhockGod> You're rapidly approaching unconsciousness.
<ViktorWalters> With my last breath, I curse Zoidberg.
<ViktorWalters> and make myself boring
<ViktorWalters> Very boring.
<ViktorWalters> to avoid the snakes.
<HollyhockGod> You become so boring that the falling masonry instinctively avoids you.
<HollyhockGod> Even the flames don't touch you.
<HollyhockGod> You awaken, sober, in the morning, in the ruins of what was once Las Vegas.
<HollyhockGod> Nothing still stands.
<ViktorWalters> "Wow, the neighborhood has really gone to shit."
<HollyhockGod> A note is pinned to your chest.
<ViktorWalters> I read this note.
<HollyhockGod> Whoever pinned it did not bother to close the pin.
<HollyhockGod> Mind, you're immortal, but still, lack of courtesy!
<HollyhockGod> "Dear Ennui's-Regal,
Thank you for helping me with my assault on Greed. It wouldn't have been possible without you.
Don't worry, I won't tell anyone it was you! Nudge, nudge, wink, wink!
<ViktorWalters> Do I remember anything from the night before?
<HollyhockGod> (Sure, all of it, basically.)
<ViktorWalters> Meanwhile "Oh shit, oh shit."
I had a jolly time as your news correspondent. I hope you enjoyed the special extras I laced into Laughter's equally special compounds.
<ViktorWalters> Well, I did…
Our other friend Ancagallon will soon receive an unpleasant surprise- but I'm sure it's convenient for you if he loses a couple of inches off his package, too.
All in all, I hope to hear from you again soon.
May you live in interesting times,
<HollyhockGod> That is all.
<ViktorWalters> Huh. So.
<ViktorWalters> I should get the hell out of Dodge.
<HollyhockGod> That might be a good idea.
<ViktorWalters> I think I'll find a place to dress as I normally do and return to the Chancel bearing ill tidings of mass destruction caused by person or persons unknown.
<HollyhockGod> Fair enough.
<HollyhockGod> You return to Shatterthread a day or so later, with dire news.
<HollyhockGod> And, that finishes the story for now.
<ViktorWalters> So, um, Viktor is becoming the destroyer of all things.
<HollyhockGod> Congratulations on killing millions of innocents and filling Nevada with an army of beer-crazed maniacs.
<ViktorWalters> Was I /not/ supposed to play along?
<ViktorWalters> I think this will be very entertaining.
<HollyhockGod> It is I who plays along with you.