BDG's Descent Into Madness

Ihob and the cataclysmic event that changes everything

"I CAN'T BELIEVE PATRICK DIED," cried Jeff, the intermission weighed on him so heavily. "I really feel like we could've do-"

"Get over it!" Seethed Simone as she threw a rock at the windows of the Ihob. "Dead is dead."

Laura swiveled her head around peckishly. Where was the twine? She looked upon the great Simone with a feeling of suspicion nested within her.

John Jurasek peeked his head out from behind the now shattered glass, "Hello everyone-," he began but was stopped by Simone's hand smacking him mid-chest as she hefted herself into the 'raunt. "Step-aside shortfry, we've come for your waves."

"Waves? Well, okay then - heeere youuu go," John waved his hand and Simone grabbed it, applying pressure - the sound of snapping wood exited through the gaps in Simone's fist as John's hand bones were obliterated.

"Your radio waves," she hissed.

Despite the debilitating injury, John's eyes leapt to life, "You mean, you've been listening to it? My show that is? The only one left this side of the Americas?" He felt like crying, to know that radio was alive and well, "Well, sure - I'll help you get started, now - what kind of show were you thinking of?"

"Ska." Spat Simone with a Smirk.

Clayton's hands felt heavy... that was, until they found themselves sweeping across a grand piano in the midst of the ovens and he was at once at, peace? In this tumultuous time - there was no certainty save the warm embrace of the keys.

"Can't say I'm familiar with it," John chuckled, "but I know musicians when I see them. A pleasure to be working with you Miss?"

"De Rochefort. Simone, De Rochefort." and with the release of that very, very, firm handshake - their business relationship was sealed.

Laura swallowed. Concealing something before she opened her mouth to unleash a simple request, "the twine," she gurgled on repeat, "the twine."

"The twine? Oh sure, you can see the twine while you're here - it's in the basement. Heh, who would've thought it? That the most famous twine ball would be located in the basement of an Ihob pre-apocalypse."

"Post-Apocalypse," corrected Jeff - to which John administered a wry smile.

Jenna and Laura's feet scurried in competition to race to the basement first, meanwhile, John, Simone, Jeff, and Clayton piled into the elevator. "Going down." mused John, "coincidentally the radio room is also in the basement, now - it's not exactly ideal but, what's there to be done about that."

The elevator doors opened to a room with a ceiling sixteen feet high, the centerpiece - the world's largest ball of twine... had been demolished, Jenna swung from the ceiling, encased in the scant remainders of the twine like a kind of cocoon. Laura hunched gargoyle like, rabidly coughing up twists of twine. She'd consumed it. Just like in her dreams.

"Get her down from there!" Simone demanded, and so, Laura complied, karate chopping Jenna free of her containment.

"Yipee!" Shouted Jenna, starfishing her limbs as she fell.

"Now, let me just show yah how to get this thing started," John began to fuss with the radio equipment, and in doing so - Jeff was overcome by a wave of nausea.

"It's happening," he whispered in a scared voice. The earth shook.

"Good thing we're in the bunker and not up there," chipped in John. "Now what do you say you introduce me to that little thing called, 'ski' was it? Is it like the ball, some kind of arcade sport-program?"

Simone's face drew into a sneer, "No... Ska, Ska goes a little something like this-"

in perfect synergy the band began to play On My Radio.

lost in the beauty of the jam, all the pain seemed to slip away - time slowed into an innumerable jumble and the ties between life and death loosened. Even Jeff couldn't pull himself away from the perfect tune for their Radio debut, no matter how disgusting the premise had seemed - the truth was, no matter how much they bickered or argued or just messed around - at the end of the day, it was Ska which brought them all together. A tear rolled down Jeff's cheek.

"Oh no. HOW DARE YOU TARA, I KNOW THIS IS YOUR DOING!" Brain accused the sky as he heard it - the cursed voices of his fellow men as they were pulled into the radio's waves. Were they already too late? Brain couldn't help himself from singing along, disgust clouding his judgement as he surfed into the ihob and skidded down the stairs.

The sight that greeted him was one out of a horror movie.

Jeff and Jenna's comatose body's laid outstretched across the floor; Laura's all-knowing gaze was struck black; and Clayton? Well, Clayton had hidden in the body of his beloved piano like some kind of coward.

"Simone! You can't do this!" Brain pleaded, "There's been a miscount! I've still got a shot at coming out on top! "

Simone was bedecked in a beautiful dark evening gown - her guns ominously absent. "You've been mistaken Brian," spoke a voice through her vessel. The voice of John Jurasek. "They've already done it," the body turned to him, a body devoid of Simone.

Brain let out a terrified shriek, despite his squall, he didn't show up just to give up!

Brain grabbed John by the collar and slugged him with a fake-out stage slap, "GUah," breathed review brah, his constitution fading fast. Where his eyes should've been, there was only light - his smile effervescent.

"What have you done to them?!" John shook his head, but Brain was one step ahead, "Not you," he growled, "The. Radio." THAT MENACE! "THE MENACE!" exploded Brian as he dropped John Jurasek to the ground, pivoting sharply (and choreographically) Brain got on air.

and

he

SKA'D!