Read The Humdrum Lives of Cryptids, Monsters, and Villains Page 22
it in each ragged breath through your telephone!
Obsequiam: Any ragged breath you hear is the stifle of raucous laughter begging to be released from my lungs, Irritatious! I expected more from you. I expected a real debate but you have provided none... Flippin' Frank Flidizzio is a talented merman baseballer, yes, but the best of the first half of the twentieth century? Pshaw!
Irritatious: Pshaw?
Obsequiam: Pshaw indeed, Irritatious. You have forgotten, disregarded, and in the process of doing so disrespected the baseballer whose name I am about to utter, whose name will echo through the earpiece of your phone and will haunt you for the rest of your days... Phlamin' Philip the Phoenix.
Irritatious: *Gasps*
Obsequiam: That's right, Irritatious. While your lungs search for the air that I have rent from them with my baseball knowledge, and your brain seeks to recover from the jolt I have struck upon it like the hammer Mjölnir of Thor brings thunder upon the sky, I will enlighten you about why Phlamin' Philip the Phoenix is the best baseballer of the first half of the twentieth century. You see -
Irritatious: Hold please.
Obequiam: WHAT? NOOOOOOOOOO!
The elves surrounding Irritatious erupted in laughter as he pressed the hold button on the telephone. Obsequiam dropped to his knees, his hands raised above his head as he screams toward the ceiling in frustrated rage. An overweight man wearing a red jacket, red pants, and a red hat all lined with white fur enters and the elves stop laughing immediately. Irritatious hands the phone to the large white-bearded man. His name is Santa Claus and he is the supervisor of the third party customer service agency at the North Pole.
Santa Claus: Ho ho how may I help you Obsequiam?
Obsequiam: You can start by.... Pause for a moment... How do you know my name?
Santa Claus: Well, little sasquatch boy, I am Santa Claus! I am omniscient.
Obsequiam: I seek to rob the glow from your rosy cheeks, Santa Claus...
Santa Claus: Ho ho oh, you were always such a naughty sasquatch boy, Obsequiam…
Obsequiam: That may be the case but I demand immediate satisfaction or else! Send someone to replace the electromagnetic capacitor in my Destructomatic 3400 immediately!
Santa Claus: Well, we typically only arrange returns and listen to endless griping here at my third party customer service agency, Obsequiam.
Obsequiam: I will end you! I will steal the light from your cheerful eyes!
Santa Claus: Ho ho oh all right. I'll place a call to Destructomatic and have them send a technician to your laboratory.
Obsequiam: That is better. My address is -
Santa Claus: I already know, Obsequiam. I am Santa Claus, the omniscient. Fare thee well, Obsequiam. And remember, Christmas comes but once a year...
Santa Claus hangs up the phone and the lights dim on center stage, occluding Obsequiam from view. Santa Claus dials another number on the telephone, and as he raises the handset to his ears, light rises on the right side of the stage. A mockup of a factory is revealed. Destructomatic is painted in blood red letters on the faux bricks. A window cut into the set reveals a painting of a steel grey sky. There is a lone desk among the steam and spark belching machines, at which a werewolf sits wearing a tie and a hard hat. His name is Malevolid and he is the head engineer at Destructomatic Incorporated. His phone begins to ring and he answers.
Malevolid: I'll have you know that pain-dealing machines of my own invention are trained on you at this very moment. If your call is not of the utmost importance, I will dole an impartial and disproportionate share of force upon you!
Santa Claus: Ho ho oh, Malevolid... Will you ever receive anything other than coal in your stocking? Not if you continue as such...
Malevolid: Ah! Santa Claus... Scourge of the Northlands and judge of younglings... Why do you contact me?
Santa Claus: A Destructomatic customer in your area requires an electromagnetic capacitor for a Destructomatic 3400.
Malevolid: Vile demigod! Why do you plague me with this issue? Why have we hired you, if not to defer the needs of our loyal customers?
Santa Claus: I have judged this matter to be of importance... I cannot yet divulge my Santa Claus secrets regarding this matter, but I can assure you that if you do not have this electromagnetic capacitor delivered to a customer named Obsequiam immediately by your shapeshifting delivery-person, all light will be wicked from the universe.
Malevolid: That does not follow, lard-o. Would not it make more sense to deprive the cryptid creature of his Destructomatic equipment if you wish to save the universe?
Santa Claus: If we wait too long, he will fix it himself and we will all be doomed! Do as I say or your Christmas trees will lie barren until your dying breath retreats from your withered werewolf lips, Malevolid!
Malevolid: As you wish, my red velvet clad overlord...
Santa Claus and Malevolid hang up their telephones. Santa Claus turns his back to the audience and watches the fake snow fall behind the window as the elves continue to mime speech on their telephones. The lights dim on Santa Claus' portion of the stage. Malevolid waves his werewolf paws in the air, gesturing someone offstage toward him. A beautiful woman enters. Her name is Loretta and she is a shapeshifter. She is also the delivery person for Destructomatic.
Loretta: You have summoned me?
Malevolid: I have, dearest Loretta. You must deliver an electromagnetic capacitor to a customer named Obsequiam immediately. His address should be in the registry. Off with you!
Loretta walks to a file cabinet, opens a book that is assumedly the registry of Destructomatic customers. She writes down some information, retrieves a box that says ELECTROMAGNETIC CAPACITOR in block letters, and immediately turns into a flock of crows which lift the box with their razor sharp claws and fly off-stage. The lights dim on the entire stage and the curtains fall. It is the end of the scene and of Act 1. An inexplicable dance number featuring a troupe of jackalopes occurs during this brief intermission, accompanied by an abstract jazz number that is as puzzling as it is horrendous.
Act 2 Scene 1
The Dragon Narrator enters center stage from behind the curtain. A spotlight illuminates her scaly face as plumes of smoke rise from her nostrils.
Dragon Narrator: Obsequiam, he lies in wait for a surprise most unexpected. Loretta flies as a murder of crows, so as to not be detected. The darkness of her feathers, would humiliate blackest night. Will Obsequiam still wish destruction when Loretta meets his sight?
The spotlight dims and the Dragon Narrator retreats behind the curtains. The curtains raise to reveal Obsequiam and the Clone playing Chinese Checkers in front of the non-functional Destructomatic 3400. The Clone smiles in a vacant sort of way while he jumps almost every single one of Obsequiam's marbles to win the game. Obsequiam flips the Chinese Checkers board in frustration and begins pacing as marbles roll across the stage. The Clone appears unfazed and deftly turns to the audience and winks.
Obsequiam: My mind is elsewhere, Clone! Besides... the game is foolish...
Clone: Mhmm...
Obsequiam: Blast those devils! Slaves of the workday! Where is my electromagnetic capacitor? How much longer must I wait before I cloak the universe in everlasting darkness?
Clone: I don't know.
Obsequiam: Nor do I, my half-witted chum. That is the problem!
Clone: Will my flashlight still work?
Obsequiam: What is this you are asking me?
Clone: Will my flashlight still work after you've stolen all the light from the universe?
Obsequiam: No your flashlight will not work! I cannot take every glimmer of light from the vast expanse of space and spare your flashlight!
Clone: But how will I find my way through the lab in the dark?
Obsequiam: You won't!
Clone: *gasps*
Obsequiam: You are right to gasp. It is a terrifying thought! Soon the world, and the whole universe, will be filled with gasps as everyone and everything
is plunged into darkness....
Clone: That's not why I was gasping...
Obsequiam: Lies! What deceit are you trying to deliver upon me?
Clone: Look!
Obsequiam's Clone points offstage. Loretta in the form of a murder of crows carrying the box containing the new electromagnetic capacitor flies on stage. Obsequiam is awestruck as the murder of crows enters the laboratory and drop the box to the ground. He looks like a sasquatch that has just fallen in love at first sight.
Clone: Obsequie?
Obsequiam: ....
Clone: Obsequiette, your package that will help you destroy the universe is here, I think.
Obsequiam's Clone gambols off of the stage with his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat. Obsequiam flips up the darkened shades of his goggles to get a better look at the crows. They turn into Loretta's human form shortly after. They are now alone in the laboratory. Although Loretta is no longer a murder of inky black crows, her hair and eyes are so dark that it seems light cannot escape them. It is clear that Obsequiam is enamored.
Loretta: Are you Obsequiam?
Obsequiam: I... I am.
Loretta: I have a delivery for you. It is a replacement -
Loretta & Obsequiam speaking at the same time: Electromagnetic capacitor for a Destructomatic 3400.
Loretta: ....Yes. Well, I need you to sign for it.