Perspectives: The Rescued (May '08)

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Re: Perspectives: The Rescued (May '08)

Postby Visavis » Fri Mar 29, 2013 9:59 pm

DJ Subbaroo: Emergency Promotion
“Man, we’re gonna gut you ‘less you do what we want, a’ight, doc?” The day had started off bad for Doctor Marcstein, and quickly gotten worse. He’d woken up late, and in the rush to get to his surgery, he’d scalded himself on his new coffee pot. The burn wasn’t too bad, but he’d only treated it quickly, figuring that he’d be able to sterilise and bandage it much better when he got to work. But then, when he’d unlocked his car, the Freakshow had jumped him.

So, he was sitting in the back room of an old, disused warehouse while the leader of the Freaks told him all about the body modifications that they wanted and that he was going to do to them. The large gang leader made sure to punctuate his demands with threats of disembowelment, decapitation and defenestration. As the third round of the Freak’s demands came to a close, the doctor sighed and made his response. “I would perform this work on you and your fellows, mainly because you say that you’ll kill me otherwise, but as I’ve already explained, I’m a general practitioner. I prescribe medication to people. If there’s something that needs to be operated on, I send them to a surgeon. I don’t do surgical work myself.”

The Freak growled, and menaced the doctor with his large, scythe-like blade. “Look man, I don’t care about that qualifications an’ shit. You’ll do what we want, or I’ll fuck you up. A’ight?” The doctor raised a hand to his face, shaking his head slowly. He doubted he’d be able to convince the Freak that he wasn’t able to do what was asked of him, but he didn’t want to die, so he had to keep trying. He drew in his breath, preparing to try and explain the issue from a different angle, but before he could speak, a blob of something slammed into the side of the Freak’s head, sending him cartwheeling through the air and into a wall. Staring in disbelief, the doctor stood up, only to have a robotic appendage curl around his midsection, hoisting him into the air. “What?”

“Please remain calm, loyal consumer! Did you know that Spam provides over forty percent of the recommended daily intake of the majority of vitamins and other nutrients in a single serving? I know! It’s truly the wonder meat byproduct!” An incredulous look spread across the doctor’s face as he managed to get a look at his rescuer. A robot of some sort, coloured a dirty, off pink tone looked back at him before placing the doctor across a reinforced shoulder, holding him there with a single robotic arm. “No need to fear or look surprised, loyal consumer! Spam is the best of all meat byproducts, rated first in nutrition, texture, smell and taste! Now, I, Spambot, shall retrieve you from these vile Freaks, who have obviously not had their daily meal of Spam! Did you know, that not eating at least one serving of Spam per day increases the likelihood of becoming involved with a gang! Eat Spam, and prevent gang warfare!”

The doctor shook his head as the robot carried him outside. It looked like his day was still only going to get worse.
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