They were all gathered around Scroot’s screens. They were set side to side and shared the image, but the image was broken by the edges of the monitors. As Ted, Lisa, and Kick approached, Elvis looked up at them. He put his arm lightly on Ted’s shoulder and spoke to Scroot.
“Start it over. They need to see this.”
The cheesy upstem music started playing heralding the face of Jester McClitorati, a well known anchor-clown .
“Ever since the peak time massacre at the Bree, Sydney Intersection, Papal Officials have refused comment about the proceedings. Today, however, we have our first official word from the Office of The Pope Media Relations.”
The image changed to white robed cardinal at a podium with the crossed T and Cane behind him.
“Esteemed media representatives, His Holiness The Eighth Dingeory Malocourt On The Waves offers you blessings and bountiful futures. He recognizes that your questions are justified and toward the purpose of bettering the cause of humanity and His Holy Name. Ahem.
“The small time criminal sometime known as Laser Boy, listed on the OFR as one Vincent Pawn Gogh, has committed heinous crimes against the people and Holy Bodies of this station. There have been reports that he was aided and abetted by Kick Herald, heiress of the Herald Estate. These have proven to be erroneous. Two hours ago, Kick Herald contacted the PIGS to report the whereabouts of Laser Boy. Because of this tip, Vincent Pawn Gogh was captured without further casualties. Kick Herald’s status has been downgraded to hostage and unwilling participant. She has been given immunity for all crimes committed under the influence of this criminal because of her invaluable assistance in his apprehension. The trail of this dangerous felon will begin tomorrow. Send all inquiries via normal channels. There will be no questions at this time.”
The screen cut back to Jester against his flashing UNO saturated backdrop. Kay, Vince, and Scroot being the only ones with an INO/UNO compatibility were able to download the entire news cycle instantly using the flashing patterns behind the host.
“We have been given this footage of the accused being transported for processing.”
And there was Laser Boy, bruised and injured, but nonetheless sneering angrily at the camera, hands chained behind his back, hurried along by a PIGS with an electric baton.
Syrge paused the vid, “It’s amazing how effective images continue to be on public perception, in spite of the fact that everybody knows that digital images are completely malleable. Baaaaaahhhh. I nearly bought it myself.”
Kick was fast scanning the downloaded news data, an item caught her interest.
“Did you all watch the Guzeman piece yet?”
“I was just about to show them,” said Vince.
Scroot’s screen switched to a new vid. The images showed someone named Eugene Guzeman on a mag cart at the same Bree, Sydney Intersex. His face was full of fury.
“It was played out here before our very eyes! The sins of our so-called ‘divine’ masters! The mass murder of scores of innocents! The cover-up of historical horrors that are part of our heritage! Horrors that deserve to be known and discussed! The refusal to comment on these events, in my mind, shows just how guilty they are! You can register your intention to participate in a free election right now! UNO your code to the number behind me! Rise up and let these Holy Rollers know we don’t believe in them anymore! This station has been in the thrall of the papacy for far too long! It’s time to return to the Democratic Principles that built this world for us in the first place!”
The screen returned to Jester McClitorati, the Face of The Staish, who was laughing in the camera lens wildly.
“Rousing stuff, huh folks! What do you think? Time for bloody revolution? UNO us what you think!”
The kras was quiet for a moment. Vince spoke first.
“Maybe they’re going to be too busy to come get us?”
Black Elvis curled his lip, “Man, I don’t know if this station can handle a war. It’s so venting small and fragile. That’s all we need, is massive battles in this tin can.”
Lisa, “What’s a election?”
Syrge, “Popularity contest to pick leaders.”
Kay, “Worst form of government ever.”
Ted, “We had a democracy on Laredo, seemed to work okay. I was mayor one year…”
Kay, “This Guzeman probably works for the Papacy anyway.”
Elvis, “Oh come on, they’re not really all powerful you know. Just a lot of expensive tech. And Scroot here out tech’d them, they’re beaten and they need to recognize.”
Lisa, “How do we know who to kill in one of these elections?”
Vince, “From what I’m seeing here, supposedly no one gets killed. Sometimes people get arrested though.”
Lisa, “Psssssh. Revolution and no one gets killed. Fuck that.”
Ted, “Do you guys have any food? I haven’t eaten in thirty years.”
Elvis, “What kind of name is Ted? We need a new name for you. How bout Rip, cause you slept so long?”
Ted shrugged his shoulders, “Call me whatever, but seriously, I feel like passing out I’m so hungry.”
Lisa huffed and pushed herself over to the food box.
“I’ll find you something, but if anyone ever asks me to serve them anything ever, I’ll rip their eyes out.”