Episode 092

                "Bow down before the one you serve,
                You're going to get what you deserve."
                                Nine Inch Nails, Head Like a Hole

                "I think I want to get drunk tonight." Roland lamented to himself, wiping his face with water. He stood up from the sink, looking at the reflection that stared back at him. "Man." He said to himself. "I've been out in the sun too much. I'm starting to get an ugly tan."

                "You're the face at the bottom of the mirror, you idiot." Armand said to the mirror from the doorway.

                "That would explain why my razor hasn't been working." Roland said, glancing down at his shaving razor.

                Armand retreated from the bathroom, walking into the living room where Everett sat at the dinnette set, reading the local independant paper. "Hey, you know, dad," Armand started in a high-pitched, adolescent immitation of a voice. "It's really great and all that you let Timmy come over and play but don't you think it's time we let him go back home to his mommy."

                Everett dropped the paper, glaring unamused at Armand. "He's staying here until we can make sure he's safe."

                "That boy'll never be safe." Armand exclaimed. "He's a dick. He's been a dick since he was born. His own mom hasn't been seen in public with him since he could walk."

                "Not true." Came a voice from the bathroom. "I have photographic evidence."

                "There's probably a long line of people who want to do him in." Armand continued. "Lord knows, I'm one of them."

                "Yeah, I know." Everett nodded understandingly. His face suddeny burst as he started laughing. "I'm three people ahead of you."

                "Then can we please get rid of him?" Armand begged. "I'm serious. He's taking up what very little room we've got. Or at least send his ass over to live with Ledger. Or, god, if we really hate him, let him live with Morgan."

                "While neither of those are bad ideas," Everett admitted. "Ledger's house is unsafe and not fit for even cockroaches to live in. Gunpowder and explosives not known to modern science are not very good bedmates."

                "Neither is a drunk knight who's so white he makes me not able to dance." Armand protested.

                "While true, that's a curable condition." Everett went on. "You live with a black man. I can de-haukify you in a few hours. But back to alternative living conditions, Ledger's unsafe and Morgan would eat Roland alive."

                "I didn't know Morgan was gay." Roland exclaimed from the bathroom. "Would explain a few things."

                "A gay knight?" Armand thought. "Do they exist?"

                "Oh yeah." Everett nodded sincerely. "They're just like Big Foot. Everyone's heard of them, but no one's been able to capture real, solid evidence of one." Everett started laughing again. "But no, Morgan's not gay."

                "You sure?" Roland asked, coming out of the bathroom, wiping his face with a hand towel. "Has he ever made a pass at you?"

                "No." Everett said.

                "See." Roland nodded. "He's got taste. Proof he's gay."

                "He's not gay." Everett shook off. He put the paper down and turned fully to Roland. "But speaking of gay, we need to figure this out."

                "I think Ledger's already on that." Roland nodded.

                "Sweet Jesus." Everett said, lowering his head down to his hands. He looked back up at the two, his voice suddenly taking on a redneck tint. "You mean to tell me there's one of them negro in this town running around with a gun?"

                "Fraid so, cap'n." Roland nodded, his thumbs stuck in his belt buckle. "Worst of all," Roland's voice suddenly lost it's accent as well as it's humorous tone. "I think he may be more indiscrimitory than we'd all like to believe."

                The light from the door spread across Ian's bruised face as he hung fromt he wall, the metal wires on his wrists tearing into his skin. He lifted his head up, half the hair on his head missing as the blood poured down into his eyes.

                Phillip strolled into the dark room, a grim, determined smile on his face. "Oh, Ian." He said, shaking his head. "If you guys hadn't gotten rid of Uriel, then this never would have happened."

                "What do you want?" Ian asked with a bloody voice. "Just ask your damn questions so I can ignore them and let's get on with it. What do you want?"

                "Want?" Phillip laughed. "My dear fool, what makes you think this is for any other reason than the sheer entertainment of it all?" Phillip laughed. "The look on your face, Ian, is priceless. You just don't understand, do you?"

                "Understand what?" The blonde-haired man said, glaring at Phillip. "That you're out of your mind?"

                "I'm not out of my mind, Ian." Phillip laughed. "I came to my senses." He held up his hands, the shadows of his arms casting out over Ian as the doorway remained open. "I have this vision of the Brotherhood of the Sun finally conquering the Illuminati, finally over-throwing the control of the United Nations." He turned back to Ian, a madman's look on his face. "Finally wipe away every nation, every religion, every creed, every division that exists in this world. And allow the people of the earth to live in harmony, as ONE."

                "And that involved taking over the Investigator's Clan?" Ian asked back in a breathless voice, still hanging from the restraints that held him. "You had to destroy an entire branch of the Brotherhood, just because you didn't have enough power?"

                "Power." Phillip laughed. "Power is a funny thing. Jericho once told me,"

                "Jericho!" Ian interupted. "How does Jericho fit into all of this?"

                "Jericho?" Phillip asked back at Ian. "Why, Jericho's the man that made it all possible. It was his sacrifice, never knowing of course, that allowed me to reach the heights I have reached. But that's not important right now."

                "Why doesn't that surprise me." Ian bit cynically.

                "As I was saying," Phillip went back to his fable. "Jericho said 'Power is an empty goal. If you try to eat it, you starve. If you try to spend it, you go broke. If you try to find it, you go blind. And if you chase after it, you go mad."

                "Well, you've gotten that last one down. That's for sure." Ian said with a scoff.

                The punch ricocheted off Ian's stomach, knocking him back into the wall. His sweat splattered over the with the impact as he fell back down, hanging by his restraints.

                "I can be a patient man." Phillip said, as he stood over Ian. He grabbed the man's blonde hair, pulling his head painfully back with a slow, deliberate motion. "But my patience is long spent with you." Phillip chuckled to himself. "You will be drugged. You will be questioned. You will be beaten. And by the grace of God, you will be beaten some more."

                Phillip's smile faded a bit, showing the sincere cruelty in his eyes. "And then, you and Orson and Errol are going to be buried together in a shallow, nameless grave for all the neighborhood dogs to come piss on."

                "And Aaron?" Ian asked in a breathless voice, still struggling to resist the pain and keep his breath.

                "Aaron?" Phillip asked. "Why, when I am done with Aaron, there isn't going to be enough of him to bury."