“She died from an experimental item, The Muscle Expander, I believe it was called,” continued Silva. “This young bitch, Gloria or something like that, invented this Muscle Expander in hopes of becoming the next big thing in science, and retail. The dumb bitch forgot to test the item on anything!” Silva laughed sadly then sniffled loudly. “What sort of idiot doesn’t test their invention?”
“Right,” said Chairman Obelis. He stood up and walked to the bar. It was an unspectacular bar made out of wood that had small white flecks on it and bricks that were chipped, broken and uneven. The bar was out of place in the room that held an elegant 19th century chandelier, a fanciful Moroccan style rug, and an alabaster lamp.
Chairman Obelis made Silva another martini, much stronger than the last. He wanted Silva to relax his body and his mind, in hopes that he would be in an agreeing mood. To Chairman Obelis’ dismay, Silva kept reminiscing about his dead lover – a boring endeavor to Chairman Obelis.
“Chelsey had always wanted a fit, taut body… I had always told her that her body was already immaculate – it truly was – and that any improvements were unnecessary to her perfect physique. Alas, she bought this untested contraption in hopes of reaching her unreasonable goal.
She had always tried to buy untested body improvement things from China, Russia and Oman, but those people, thankfully, never would send her packages after getting the money. But this Muscle Expander woman, she sent Chelsey the device in less than a week!” Silva gulped down the second martini. “One blown biceps, an exploded glute, and a ruptured pectoral that damaged her lungs, heart and countless blood vessels. She was dead for hours before I got home from my final test run of the cure for feline AIDS.” Silva grabbed his handkerchief and wiped his eyes again, and then used the handkerchief to blow his now runny nose.
“It was found that she had taken oxycodone and acetaminophen before employing the Muscle Expander on her wonderful body. The coroner was unclear of what specifically caused her death, but that device … that damned device was what caused it!” Silva set the martini glass on his impressive belly and raised his fist in anger. He rocked his fist back and forth a few times before Chairman Obelis interrupted him.
“I’m terribly sorry to hear about that tragic loss,” Chairman Obelis repeated his plastic sympathetic smile to Silva. “Life is fleeting, and so it goes.”
“Yes,” said Silva, “But now is time to forget the past and begin fixing the future. On to the politics!” Silva was truly ready to put Chelsey’s death in the past and press forwards. Tragically, he was about to take two steps back in his life.
“I’m afraid, Doctor Silva, that your job for the campaign actually has absolutely nothing to do with politics,” stated Jeffrey as he walked into the room from a door next to the bar. Jeffrey held an unsealed brown envelope with important paperwork inside. Silva stared at Jeffrey in befuddlement. His martini glass stayed perfectly still on his fat belly.
“Inside this envelope is the information I – ahem – excuse me, we believe that will be necessary to create some sort of mass controlling mechanism – for the greater good of course! We cannot stress that this is for progress! This is for humanity!” Jeffrey motioned for Silva to open the envelope. “I will be helping you as much as I can, but I don’t have quite the knowledge on this sort of project as you do.”
Silva, still befuddled, opened the envelope. He quickly read through the introduction page. “What you are asking isn’t feasible…,” whispered Silva as he began to rub his temples while looking through the paperwork. “It isn’t possible!”
Chairman Obelis rose from his puffy chair and said, “Money will never be an issue. I never want to hear you complain about feasibility ever again, Doctor Silva. You are in my hands – one of the richest men to ever exist. My resources are nearly limitless.”
“The banks will try to freeze your accounts once this gets out!”
“It won’t get out, you fat turd,” stated Jeffrey as he stood with his arms crossed. He positioned himself next to Chairman Obelis. “Besides, you think Chairman Obelis would keep all of his wealth in U.S. banks? Or in a Swiss bank account? Amateur. Most of his money is found in -” Chairman Obelis motioned Jeffrey to stop talking. “Sorry, sir.”
“But the idea of it is impossible! This isn’t even my area of expertise! I know governments through the years have tried different methods of mass control that have failed miserably but actually controlling the population? That’s just fucking absurd, in all due respect, because the C.I.A. couldn’t even get that figured out. I’ve been around and worked for those men, they’re psychos and paranoid. Paranoid psychos!”
“But don’t you at least want to try?” asked Chairman Obelis. “You do have an – how do I put it – an unethical past: slaughtering dogs, dismembering mere kittens, stitching them back together – I fail to see how those misdeeds of yours had anything to do with a cure for feline AIDS either. Do you want me to continue?” Silva shook his head side-to-side. “I don’t see how this project of mine could be morally repulsive to you.”
“Mistreating animals and trying to control the human population are vastly different things!” screamed Doctor Silva. “I snapped after Chelsey’s death, but I won’t be a part of this nastiness – I’m beyond that. I am ready to do good now!”
“If you won’t get your hands dirty, Doctor, we’ll have to force you to get them dirty.”
Chairman Obelis nodded at Jeffrey. Jeffrey began to walk out of the room, but stopped next to a wooden door opposite of the bar.
“Doctor Silva,” said Chairman Obelis, “You will find a way to do this or we will kill you; we will kill your legacy; we will destroy anything you love, have loved or will love. None of those will be painless deaths, either. The suffering will be tremendous, so tremendous that you will be longing for death.” Chairman Obelis began to snap his fingers melodically.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Chairman Obelis had hoped that what was about to occur would frighten Doctor Silva enough to agree to construct the human-controlling tool since Doctor Silva had very few family members left and there wasn’t much of a legacy to kill. Chairman Obelis didn’t like to gamble, but this gamble needed to pay off.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Clearly delirious and distraught, Doctor Silva worked up the courage to state, “And which one of you wimpy men will be doing the killing?”
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Silva began to laugh hysterically – partially because he thought it was funny and partially because he was terrified. “Is the torture going to be listening to you two ignoramuses talk?” The martini glass finally fell off of his fat, laughing belly and crashed down onto the rug. Jeffrey and Chairman Obelis slowly began to laugh too! It was a riot to the three men.
Jeffrey abruptly stopped laughing and said, “We won’t be doing the killing, or any sort of torture, but this man will.” He flung the door open to reveal a man of significant stature. A man that struck fear into anyone that caught eyes with his, save Chairman Obelis and Jeffrey. A man with glowing skin and sullen eyes.
The man, a rigid 6’7”, 325 lbs, stomped towards Silva and picked Silva up off his feet. Doctor Silva stood at 5’4” and weighed roughly 248 lbs – depending on when he shit that day.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
It was safe to say that Silva hadn’t shit before now because he defecated as he was being held in the air by a ghastly creature that was whiter than snow. The glowing behemoth of a man appeared vampiric to Silva.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
“This is Thane and he will be your end if you do not agree to our terms,” laughed Jeffrey. An enthusiastic smile approached Jeffrey’s face. “Stop shitting your pants, Doctor Silva; we can’t have our top scientist shitting his pants all the time – it’s not a good look for us!” Jeffrey, continuing his enthusiastic smiling, made his way to the side of the still finger snapping Chairman Obelis.
Doctor Silva began to gulp loudly and let out a shrill squeak, “Let me down
!” URK “I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” URK URK URK “Anything, anything. Please, please.”
Snap. Snap. Snap. URK.
“Thane,” said Jeffrey softly, “put him down.”
Thane looked at Jeffrey and nodded. He dropped Doctor Silva back onto his seat. His brown butt vomit started to seep all through his undergarments and his ironed trousers. The puffy chair Silva was dropped onto had visible shit stains too. Chairman Obelis stopped snapping.
Doctor Silva kept gulping loudly. URK URK URK.
“Though I’m going to have to burn that chair you’re sitting in, I’m glad we could come to an agreement of sorts, Doctor Silva,” smiled Chairman Obelis as he walked over and patted him on the back. “We will talk about what you will need, materials and crew wise, tomorrow. New clothes can be found in the bathroom. Take a shower, you disgust me.”
URK URK URK.
Silva couldn’t put together what was happening to him or where he was located.
URK URK URK.
“Did you hear what your boss said?” snapped Jeffrey. He walked towards the scared, gulping Doctor Silva and whacked him on the head.
Doctor Silva blinked slowly then got up from his chair and sprinted to the bathroom. Shit dripping down onto the carpet from Silva’s pants made a brown trail to the bathroom. His pitiful sobbing could be heard for the rest of the night.
“So, Jeffrey and Thane, where is our resurrected politician friend?” asked Chairman Obelis.
“Thane, go fetch us a tablet so we can see what is left of Senator Joseph McCarthy,” commanded Jeffrey. “We have to resurrect what is left of him first, sir. Then we can pick his brain for ideas on how to manipulate the America populace with fear.”
Thane bowed and walked out the door he initially came through. Chairman Obelis put his arm around Jeffrey as Jeffrey felt his pants tightening and cheeks reddening. Jeffrey loved these moments, even when nothing physical happened.
“Fear is so droll, Jeffrey. It’s only fun in a singular manner and with people you do not care about, like Silva. I care deeply about the American people and I’m willing to be sadistic in singular situations to help the masses. Fear is a shoddy tool that has been used on the masses for far too long. Fear and torture should only be used in dire situations and even then it’s not likely to work.”
“Was this a dire situation, though?” asked Jeffrey.
Chairman Obelis bit his lip and then answered, “It may not have been dire to you, but it was dire in terms of getting my plan rolling out in time. I knew Doctor Silva was easily scared and I wanted to take a gamble on scaring him into working with us because I knew he wouldn’t outright join us. He let his emotions get the better of him, but he shall come around in due time.”
Jeffrey nodded slowly. “So what do we need McCarthy for then? Just because?”
“I want to see if McCarthy knows anything about the true history of humanity.” Chairman Obelis smiled and finished his martini.
Chapter 10
Anger
Gora’s breathing had reached the level of an asthmatic attack paired with an allergic reaction.
“What’s going on?” asked Hitbear. He looked back at Owlbert and was greeted with a shrug.
“That’s one of the scientists I’m after. He must be ended,” stated Gora plainly, staring at the ceiling. She appeared to be in a stupor after that radio announcement. Her breathing quickly changed from rapid-fire breaths to slow, drawn out breaths. Only her slow breathing could be heard throughout the quiet laboratory.
Hitbear, again trying to receive some semblance of guidance from his fellow beast, turned toward Owlbert. Owlbert shrugged and shook his head in confusion.
“I am sorry, creator. I am sorry, Gora,” said Hitbear nodding submissively at Gora. “What shall we do to begin the onslaught on this, um, what was his name? Silver?”
“Takeo. Takeo Silva. He mostly does work in felinology, microbiology and astrobiology, but now he seemingly is into politics. Why?” questioned Gora. She sat for a moment in the silence she created, still breathing slowly. “It’s very confusing to me because I never saw that cocksucker as a political type – a person that takes advantage of others, yeah, but not a political type.”
“Vas zee difference?” said Owlbert as he landed gently on Hitbear’s shoulder, causing the bear to shudder slightly. The owlbeast had hoped his playfully attitude would help change the mood of the laboratory.
Gora – not amused in the least – yelled,” OWLBERT! WE NEED TO BEGIN TUBMAN’S CREATION NOW! WE CANNOT WASTE ANYMORE TIME; WE BEGIN THE MISSIONS AFTER TUBMAN’S CREATION!” Gora, filled with rage and confusion, started to pace around the laboratory with heavy feet and the rapid-fire breathing returned. STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. Her tiny feet caused a ruckus.
Instead of coming to her side to calm Gora, Owlbert and Hitbear let her simmer in hopes of letting her burn the passionate rage out. Even in their short existence, they both knew of the intense rage and anger that fueled Gora, albeit it had never been this pronounced. Nothing would be getting in her way of exacting revenge, not even her creations.
The two beasts retreated back to their research; Hitbear to his maps and Owlbert to his books.
Hitbear had nearly perfected conducting his research with one paw. He had a devil of a time trying to unfold maps at first, but now – now he was unfolding the maps, placing push pins and writing notes quicker than he did as a human. Hitbear was puzzled as to why Gora wanted him to pore over maps since they weren’t planning a full-scale attack on anyone. At least not yet. Nonetheless, Hitbear continued his research and kept up hope that it would become important down the road.
STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.
Owlbert enjoyed reading the books Gora’s library provided, despite the books information being useless for their situation. He knew that this second existence wouldn’t last forever, so he wanted to consume as much knowledge as he could. He finally decided to read about Teddy Roosevelt. The book was titled Theodore Roosevelt: Merely a Man or the First American Badass? and was apparently written by a person named D’Brickashaw. Just D’Brickashaw.
It only took the following passage for Owlbert to understand that the book was foolhardy:
Then, Teddy got his big boom stick and found the closest wild animal: moose, bear, deer, elk, opossum, puma or even human – though wild humans were very rare! Teddy wanted to hunt, Teddy didn’t want to just merely feed. He keyed in on a large, wooly buffalo. The buffalo had tusks the size of three toasters and it held the ferocity of sixteen wet cats getting into a scrap over a can of tuna. It was an indescribable animal (that I just described mind you!). Teddy wasn’t sure if he wanted to let the beast live on in the world with Mother Nature, or shoot it dead right there so he could bring it back to show off in a museum.
Teddy decided to let the creature live. He offered the buffalo with toaster sized tusks and the ferocity of wet cats to join him on the next train back East. The buffalo obliged and the two shared stories over many beers on the train back East.
“Vas a load of scheiße,” murmured Owlbert to himself. “This ist ein travesty of ein book! How can ein person mess with history like that?!”
A short half hour had elapsed and Gora was still trying to simmer down, but was picking up steam in her anger. Her steps were somehow heavier than before.
STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.
Gora, finally, spoke up. “Takeo – that fuckface, that piece of goddamn horseshit,” screamed Gora as her pace picked up tremendously. Her rage building with each heavy step she took.
STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.
Tired of Gora’s angry pacing, Hitbear quietly asked, “What exactly did this one do?” He turned back to his maps, as he figured she wouldn’t have heard him. But she did.
Gora stopped on a dime. She turned and looked at Hitbear as if Hitbear had murdered all of her favorite things, dumped those things in a wood chipper, dumped them in the middle of Crater Lake, and finally set Crater Lake on fire.
She sprinted over to Hi
tbear; terrifying him. Gora breathed heavily out of her nostrils and caused Hitbear to shrink like a cub.
“What did he do?” she said incredulously. “He’s the one that began all of this belittlement of me, all the harassment I received. No one wanted to work with me after he took full credit for a project I completed, with only an ounce of monetary assistance from him. He seized my potential for his own gain. My career ended because some man wouldn’t admit the truth.”
“Vas was zee project?” asked Owlbert in a serious manner. His playful side was temporarily stowed away.
Gora let out a deep sigh and began to ramble off her past – something she wanted to avoid at all costs – to her creations. She wasn’t a heart-to-heart, sharing emotions type of person because it became difficult to articulate how she felt. But maybe she was slowly becoming one.
“It was a liquid concoction that sped up the growth of trees; other plant-life too, but the buyer wanted it to be mainly for trees. Oak, maple and redwood trees, mainly. The buyer wanted to be able to create ‘sustainable’ trees that could be harvested and made into lumber – essentially a self-sustaining tree farm of nearly 600-acres that could be harvested until the end of time. I wanted to succeed because it meant that most of the current world environment would stay intact and would stop deforestation, at least with this buyer.
“I had just finished the concoction and perfected it after moving to the Pacific Northwest. Seeing a redwood grow from a seedling to an adult in less than thirty minutes was beyond magnificent. It was like I was better than Mother Nature at bringing life back to our downtrodden Earth. It was wonderful; it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Cliché, but that was how I actually felt. Warm and fuzzy. It’s a much more pleasant feeling than it sounds.
“What began my downfall was I had used some of Doctor Silva’s funding that he had left over from a project of his, providing new limbs to felines, so he knew of my project before nearly anyone else. I needed the funding so I accepted without hesitation, but if I would have known he would have claimed all credit I would have done anything else to get the money, within reason.” She tilted her head back and blew straight up into the air. She refocused her head. “I had few interactions with Doctor Silva before receiving his funding, but we were becoming good friends and often got coffee or dinner together.
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