If just a single root hair of Vidmaster7's beard remains it has the ability to regenerate a whole new body.
A fact that can be used by the unscrupulous to produce hundreds, even thousands of minions.
One with even fewer scruples might perform unwholesome experiments on said minions.
One with fewer scruples still might send recordings of these procedures to VM7 on a weekly basis so he can see what it would look like if he were to undergo the assorted violations himself.
One with no scruples to speak of might be having VM7 followed, marking his movements and patterns of behavior in preparation for an eventual abduction and session in the Workroom.
In theory anyway...
Arrh, anyone wishing to be anaesthesised beforehand should come to my cabin at eight bells.
I did. It happens.
*poofs from invisibility and shanks Sanpao, vanishing again*
POOG!!
Yes, folks, welcome to another fun-packed edition of CHALLENGE GOATOUCHER!!!
|
*Takes seat next to Malvel and Sanpao, sits down in eager anticipation.*
Ooh, this is so exciting! What do you think he's going to show us?
*Everyone gives a suggestion, Pulg then asks the following question:*
"Before we begin, does anyone want to make a wager about what might happen and how?"
*At this, everyone starts to dig into their pockets and place their bets.*
Four hundred extra large, mechanical shark teeth (each one worth 200gp) that GoatToucher performs an unnecessary vivisection on Vidmaster7 using an ogre's gallstone, an iguana and a French toaster!
*Soon, a busy falls over the crowd, GoatToucher enters in all his splendor and the show begins.*
Peeps always be jealous of the beard.
Parps, on the other hand, be not.
|
|
*Mauls every last member of Pulg's Fairy Trombone Orchestra to a most horrible death.*
*Destroys all of the trombones and smashes all of the bongo drums as well.*
*Leaves, whilst sporting a triumphant look on the face.*
*Having watched the carnage, Malvel says: "I'm really beginning to see a pattern here."*
True.
I learned that trick from Wukong.
Wukong of Shibuya street or Wukong of Kotaku street?
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
:The assembled sit on benches overlooking the Workroom. The seats are well padded and attendants offer drinks and canapes to observers.:
:Below, Yorg is wrenching his arms and feet back and forth to no avail. Whether he is secured by the quality of the bonds or some manner of sorcery you could not say. The entire venue emits an aura of transmutation, conjuration, and some energies unfamiliar to you that unsettle your mind when you focus on them:
:Presently, GoatToucher emerges, attended by the faithful Jambi. He is clad in sumptuous golden silks, with a yellow satin robe leading a long train behind him:
:The assembled, despite themselves, cheer at his entrance. He smiles and bows languidly, casting about the room to greet several august personages specifically. He reaches into a robe pocket, produces an orchid of red and purple, and casts it up to the Dowager Comptesse, where it is caught by her attendant and presented to her. Her daughter sits on her right, politely applauding. Her son the Compte is on her left, his massive scrotum resting on an ottoman before his seat.:
:Finally, he looks to Yorg, strapped to the gurney. The room falls deathly silent. GoatToucher shakes his head and clucks his tongue, snapping his fingers and gesturing to Jambi. The valet begins to loosen the Squat's bonds as other attendants bring out two comfortable chairs, a small table, a decanter of amber fluid, and two silver cups.:
:He gestures for Yorg, quite confused and alarmed at this point, to sit, pours each of them a drink, and begins a conversation. The subject matter is surprisingly light. An interview follows in which the audience learns things about Yorg, his life, his experiences, and other, more emotionally intimate details. Laughter is had, a tear or two is shed, and hearts are warmed by learning what lies within the gruff exterior of the subject.:
:GoatToucher thanks Yorg for the interview, and asks if there is anything he can do for him. Yorg indicates that is has been a long day, and that he would very much like to sleep. GoatToucher nods indulgently, and his attendants lead a lethargic Yorg back to the gurney, help him upon it, ans strap him in as he slips into slumber.:
:The chairs are removed, and an ornately carved dressing screen is brought out by a half dozen attendants. GoatToucher bows slightly to the assembled, and then excuses himself behind the screen. Yellow silks are replaced with boiled leather aprons and gloves, and a table with all manner of metal implements is produced. Lastly, a number of curious trays on stands are wheeled out and placed at various positions around the gurney.:
:He then approaches Yorg and extends a hand which an attendant fills with a small bottle of salts. Wafting them beneath Yorg's nose, the Squat wakes with a start. At first, he is at ease, seeing GoatToucher's beatific face looking down. His ease fades, however, as he notices that he is back on the gurney, and that the straps are back in place. He begins to scream: first with terror, then with rage, then in a mewling, pleading tone to the audience. For their part, the audience is transfixed, unable to rise or look away. All the while, GoatToucher prepares a number of implements before settling on what looks to be a long, barbed scalpel.:
:For the next four hours, GoatToucher expertly and meticulously removes all of Yorg's internal organs, placing them on the various trays. You notice that there are still tissues connecting the organs to Yorg's chest cavity. GoatToucher's arms are coated with ichor up to the shoulder, but each time an errant stream lands on his face, an attendant wipes it clean.:
:As this continues, he explains what he is doing to the crowd, including a detailed explanation of the function of each organ. Yorg screams almost constantly, even when his lungs are removed and placed on a tray. Whenever his throat grows hoarse, he is given a lozenge that makes his horrified cries ring clear and true. When he passes out, a waft of salts quickly wakes him. At one point, several hours into the proceedings, GoatToucher looks up and addresses the audience directly:
"Ladies, gentlemen, and assorted others: The Song of Pain!"
:He then bends to work on Yorg's nervous system, producing a prolonged shriek of agony. As GoatToucher works, Yorg continues to scream, uninterrupted, his voice rising and falling with intensity, but never pausing. The tendons in his neck are taut as a ship's rigging in a storm, and his face turns from red to deep purple to an unnatural white over the course of several minutes of a single, continuous cry that seems to convey fear, despair, hope for mercy and the loss of hope, weaving a tale with its rise and fall:
:By and by, all of the trays have an organ set upon them. GoatToucher looks upon his handiwork and nods approvingly. He asks the crowd for any questions, but is faced with only stunned silence. He then sets back to his work of replacing each organ in turn and closing the incision with a trace of healing magic from his fingertip, leaving no evidence of his ministrations, save gallons of fluid spilled about the workroom and the memories of all involved.:
:His attendants remove his gloves and aprons, revealing GoatToucher to be nude and engorged, his body itself an image that both attracts and repels in even measure.:
"My dear, dear friends, if you will adjourn to the ballroom, I have prepared music and refreshment. My friend Yorg and I will be our presently to greet you. I do hope you enjoyed tonight's festivities as much as I did."
:Only then, as the crowd files out of the gallery, do his attendants begin to dress him.:
*Accompanies song of pain on Wurlitzer organ, Moog modular synthesiser and Fisher-Price My First Semi-Automatic Keytar.*
|
|
*In the ballroom, after GoatToucher has finished his demonstration.*
That truly was a thrilling experience (in every way possible)!
*Everyone helps themselves to the various refreshments that have been provided (GoatToucher always makes sure to cater to everyone), while a soft, decorative bit of music is being played by GoatToucher's personal orchestra and adding to the elegance of the ballroom and contrasting dramatically from the workroom.*
Assuming that ALL of his demonstrations will be like that, GoatToucher may have to start teaching classes. Though I must say, he was rather quick to experiment on the clone of Vidmaster7. And who won the wager? I cannot remember, but I think that it was either Dedrick or Comte de Malodor.
*Food is eaten and drink is drunk, with everyone enjoying themselves to the fullest, GoatToucher makes his grand entrance, with Yorg Warp-Heart behind him. Though the music is still being played, everyone is quickly silenced and looks towards GoatToucher, eager to hear what their host wishes to say while the squat helps himself to the refreshments.*
Better me then me....
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
:GoatToucher emerges clad in rich scarlet and silver, As he enters, musicians on the balcony play an elaborate fanfare for several minutes. He walks through the crowd, offering a hand here, a greeting there, and nod there.:
Presently, the fanfare stops. Your hose takes a glass of deep purple fluid from a gilded tray and addresses the assembled:
"Friends, as you know tonight is not for me, but for our esteemed guest. He will come now and greet you all."
:He gestured broadly to a high curtain in the same colors as his clothes. the curtain parts and Yorg emerges, pushed forth in a high backed wheelchair. He is clad in fine clothes, his hair and beard brushed, trimmed, and oiled. A thick woolen blanket lies in his lap.:
:But his face.... No physical harm is there, but it still shows wounds as deep as any you have ever seen.:
"Please, my friends: don't be shy! Ask of him what you will. What wisdom, what insight must he have today that he lacked but a few hours ago!"
|
|
*Gets wheeled over to the refreshments table and helps himself to a spinach and liver pate sandwich.*
*As he eats, everyone can't help themselves but ask him all the questions that they want to know.*
Easy does it, lads and lasses, I will tell ya everything.
*Yorg Warp-Heart then goes into great detail that he was only surprised by GoatToucher wanting to talk to him first, before the procedure (as the squat had completely forgotten the fact that GoatToucher isn't just a skilled surgeon, but is an expert in ALL medical practices, especially therapy). The squat also explains about how he knew that he was being taken back to the gurney to sleep and that he would have died had GoatToucher not used the smelling salts (plus it helped the demonstration immensely). The lozenge was because GoatToucher doesn't like people suffering from a sore throat (the man does have standards you know). With regards to everything else, Yorg Warp-Heart reiterates what he said when GoatToucher interviewed him, also explaining that the "deep wounds" are actually because of his time in the Immaterium and loyaly serving the Ruinous Powers.*
Huh.
Hey, Count.
What's for dinner?
|
|
Well I have a lovely roast chicken stuffed with beef complete with a side of mashed potatoes, peas and carrots all smothered in gravy! And it's going to be delicious!
*Grins somewhat mischievously.*
You, however, are to dine upon... THAT!
*Points to an infant, wrapped in orange silk cloths, which happens to be a clone of GoatToucher!*
Remember, GoatToucher always lovingly makes everyone's favourite food (and you love to consume the blood of children, so don't blame us for your discomfort).
*Turns away and starts laughing at the predicament Vampire Schism is in.*
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Oh sure, invite me over then serve leftovers. :~(
If you prefer, I have a halfling stuffed inside a tiefling, stuffed inside a gelugon, stuffed inside a half-fiendish Frost Giant, served with wild rice and quinoa, haricots verts a la Gehenna and roasted artichokes, accompanied by a pleasingly dry white wine from my own vineyards. Please do partake if you wish!
Mummy, open the portal. I am not staying on this plane if Grandpa's going to be farting halfling all evening.
He won't be farting anything if I have any say in the matter. Lashcastrakaa, kindly take this Large morningstar - it's time to activate Plan Pluttbug!
|
|
Ah, so I finally get an audience with the great Dowager Comtesse de Malodor at last!
*Bows with flourish.*
Count Reiner Heydrich spoke most highly of you. Tell me, would you be interested in a business deal?
*Digs into the left pocket of my robe and takes out a small, cube shaped, device that glows multiple colours.*
Ever wanted to gain control of the Abyss, Abaddon and all nine layers of Hell? Here's what you need!
*Fiddles about with the device for a moment, then presses a button and many holographic images appear.*
Glorious aren't they? These are my Robobeasts, each one a work of art, in a dark and twisted way!
*Hands the device to Dowager Comtesse de Malodor so she can view all of the images herself.*
I could make a vast army of Robobeasts for you! That is, if you are interested?
I did not.
|
:somewhere, you hear the creaking of a door...:
:...and suddenly, the whole world seems to IMPLODE!:
:every surface, every breath of air, everything with the least bit of objective physical substance begins to swirl into a maelstrom of entropic soup, pulling you ALL down, down, down, despite 'down' no longer meaning anything, until finally you see it...:
:...Your Closet. It and it alone maintains its form and shape and place in time and space, a devouring one-way Dispose-All that you are pulled powerlessly toward by the almighty force of the cosmic tide, and that is just when you notice that it is no longer Your Closet, but a familiar grinning face, now massive and with jaws impossibly distended; you try to fight the tide, but for all your godlike powers/strength/hair/deviant behavior you cannot! You are pulled through the wickedly leering threshold, and for a moment, all is howling darkness...:
:...then suddenly, the COLORS! The SIGHTS! The SOUNDS! The MUSIC! The LAUGHTER! The GIBBERING! You tumble through the void, enraptured by a vertigo such as you have never before even fathomed as you fall past creatures the size of mountains - no, of PLANETS! - and architecture the likes of which 'cyclopean' fails utterly to suffice for description! All is ENORMOUS! All is INFINITESIMAL! All is DARK! All is LIGHT! You tumble for what seems like both an instant and an eternity, until finally...:
:you land, once more, in your now-familiar surroundings. After a moment's collective gasp of recovery, you rush as one for the front door, eager to once again see/hiss and recoil from/refuel your UV-radiation reactor-cells with/violate-with-your-eyes the simple, wholesome SUNSHINE! You scramble for the doorknob, and after much shoving, violence, impropriety, and haggling, one of you manages to get a hold of it. The door creaks open, and you are all shoved by sheer momentum into...:
:...a tiny, dark, windowless, doorless room, empty but for the rack of coathangers overhead.:
:You hear a voice behind you::
What IN THE SAM HILLS are you all doing In there???
|
|
*Gets to his feet, looking quite embarrassed and brushes himself down.*
Sorry about that, IHIYC, some idiot knocked over one of the bottles of chaos energy that GoatToucher makes for you. But don't worry, there's still plenty of the stuff and if it is needed, GoatToucher can create some more (he recently acquired a new batch of chaos energy when he was performing a most horrible and fascinating demonstration on Yorg Warp-Heart).
*As the squat recoils from the memory, the count looks at the closet and realises it belongs to IHIYC.*
I say, I'm quite surprised your closet is a normal one! Though I like that it's rather spacious.
Very proper.
So is their an evil clown hiding in your closet as well?
|
|
Me thinks, Vidmaster7, that IHIYC needs to get his brain checked by GoatToucher.
*Summons a large chalkboard and a piece of chalk to write on it.*
I really don't understand why IHIYC is confused, a closet is NOTHING like a Closet! Let me explain.
*First writes the word "closet" on the chalkboard.*
This is an everyday item that people use to store their clean clothes.
*Then, writes the word "Closet" on the chalkboard.*
THIS, however, is a gateway to a dimension that makes GoatToucher's workroom look like heaven.
*Clears throat a little.*
Of course, IHIYC could be delusional and/or in denial if he doesn't provide any evidence to the contrary.
*SHANKS THE COUNT*
POOG!!!!!
*disappears*
|
|
*While the count is healing himself from getting shanked by the goblin. Sanpao takes over.*
That goblin just gets weirder and weirder, then again, he is a MUTANT goblin after all.
*As the pirates tidy away the chalkboard, Sanpao shakes his head.*
You can't kill the count by shanking him, Poog's clearly lost his touch. I blame his mother.
I don't know that I would trust GT with examining my brain.
**LATCHES* onto back of Vidmaster7's head*
Aren't you that guy with the cat that's always trying "to get" Gadget?