Shards Side Parody:
Ruin Visits the Doctor

(setting: a horrible scene of violence and carnage in the burning remnants of what was once a city; dismembered bodies are strewn everywhere among shrieking victims. Ruin the Destroyer is seen silhouetted against the flames, tearing someone apart and blasting away the residual signs of civilization, as he is wont to do; a person is desperately trying to crawl away from him)

Ruin: (in a bored tone) Get back here. No one said I was done with you. (grabs fleeing person and steps on their throat)

(Page runs up, winded, if not a little hesitant to get near Ruin)

Page: ::pant, pant:: Um… um…. Excuse me? (feebly trying to gain attention)

(Ruin does not notice, instead finding a new victim to throttle.)

Page: Excuse me, um… um… Mr. Ruin the Destroyer? You, um, you…

Ruin: (glances over absently while ripping the support beam out of a building) Hm?

(The building collapses inches from Ruin’s face; he is unfazed, but the Page leaps back in fright.)

Page: Erm… (nervously fiddling with message paper) You, um, are… well, ah… it says here that, ah…

Ruin: (pushing the Page to one side) Go away. Can’t you see I’m working?

Page: But… I must… (fades into his own memories)

((scene break))

(setting: the past; Page School 101, the Page is still in training, learning the basics of ‘Pagery’)

Page Instructor: A true page never neglects his duty, under any circumstance, through any trial or tribulation. The message you are entrusted with must reach its destination at any cost. Understood?

Past Page: Well, uh, okay. But what if I was being forced to deliver a message to a horrible slayer of men, you know, like Ruin the Destroyer or someone?

Page Instructor: Well my boy, you would face your fears, accept the danger, and deliver your message regardless. (vehemently) A page’s life is meaningless if he does not do such and must commit seppuku immediately if he should fail in his mission!

Past Page: Uh…yeah... But what if this horrible slayer of men didn’t care about the message? What if he was going to run me through if I came within his line of vision?

Past Instructor: Deliver the message or death, my son. You see, even if this ‘horrible destroyer’ were to kill you, at least you won’t be going to Bad Page Hell for failing your mission on account of cowardice!

Past Page: Erm… I don’t think I like this job.

Page Instructor: Nonsense! It’s not all destroyers and suicide. There are the lousy wages to look forward to! The nasty attitudes people will get with you, the whistle of other peoples’ shoe leather slamming in your stomach when you deliver bad news.

Past Page: (disgusted) Right-o. I’m opting out of this before your babble has a chance to damage my mental health any further.

Page Instructor: I think not. Your parents sold you into the guild last week. Laundry prices are rising, you know. So, you are bought and branded property of the Guild of Messengers until the day you keel over and croak, my boy. Get used to it…

((scene break))

(setting: back to the present, where the Page is trying to deliver a message to Ruin; Ruin has wandered off somewhere while the Page was in his reverie, and is doing more Ruin-like things to the hapless people.)

Page: (snapping out of it) H-hey!! Wait! Wait, wait, wait!!

(Page frantically chases after Ruin, distracting him enough to let one of his victims escape)

Ruin: (viciously) Oh for the love of… (to Page) WHAT?? What the hell do you want??

Page: You… (fiddling with paper) well, it says that you…. haven’t had your yearly check up… at… at the d-doctors for a long time…and you should….you… (eyes widen in terror)

(Ruin looms menacingly over the Page)

Ruin: (calmly, with an icy twinge) Is that all you disturbed me for? A doctor’s appointment? Do you really think I care about my health? (darkly) Well, do you?

Page: W-well… good care of…the body is the f-first s-step… on the road to having, having… strong… healthy…eeeeeep….

(Ruin prepares to smote the Page down; he cowers and screams like a baby. At that very moment an insane, half-dead victim clings to Ruin’s ankles and tries futilely to knock him down.)

Ruin: Ack! (focuses his attention back to his victims) Ah, whatever. Just sign me up for sometime next Tuesday and get out of my sight.

Page: Y-yes sir! (scrambling away quickly)

Ruin: (as if an afterthought) Hey, don’t you want your tip?

(The Page turns back to Ruin momentarily; Ruin is once again silhouetted against the flames, holding the body of his assailant.)

Ruin: Let me see your pretty little face again and I’ll do heinously unmentionable things to your cooling body. Yes? (smiles, flips him a gold coin and then continues to rip the man in half)

((scene break – next Tuesday))

(setting: a pristine doctors office, white-washed and with elevator music droning in the background. Several yuppie-looking people populate the waiting room, either reading magazines or yelling at their children; the door opens slowly and Ruin slips sheepishly into the room. People stare.)

Ruin: (approaching the reception window awkwardly) Uh, excuse me... I’m here for an appointment... um... (taps on the window) Hello?

(The receptionist is doing her darndest to ignore him, nervously turning to file papers instead.)

Ruin: (growing irritated) Excuse me............ Excuse me... Hey! HEY! HELLO LADY??

(The room darkens drastically as Ruin loses his temper. The walls are shaken by a slightly audible tremor, rapidly rising in intensity)

Ruin: I said...........EXCUSE ME YOU INSIGNIFICANT MORTAL. ARE YOU DEAF??? I AM HERE FOR AN APPOINTMENT THAT IS SCHEDULED FOR TODAY...

(The receptionist (along with everyone else in the room) is trembling with fright. Ruin heaves a sigh and the atmosphere lightens considerably.)

Ruin: Look, I’m having a rough day, okay? Just... sign me in, or something already.

Receptionist: R-right away, s-s-sir... the d-d-d-d.... the doctor w-will see y-you in just a m-moment...

(The receptionist scuttles off into the office, tripping twice over a garbage can while skinning her knee on the corner of her desk. Ruin, apparently satisfied, plops down in an empty seat (the surrounding area is quickly evacuated) and begins to study a ‘Cosmo’ magazine.)

Dr. Faust: (cheerily) Is there a Mr. Ruin the Destroyer? Come on back.

Ruin: (coughing into his hand and murmuring as he passes) Actually, Ri’aeta Kalidrium. ‘Ruin the Destroyer’ is kind of a stage name. Don’t really want that to get around, though, if you know what I mean.

Dr. Faust: (still sickeningly cheery) How very interesting... I understand completely, with all the privacy issues today, I mean.

(Dr. Faust leads Ruin into another smaller, pristine white examination room.)

Dr. Faust: I see that this is your first visit, and with the lack of medical records on file, I’d say ever.

Ruin: Yes, well... I am a busy man, and it never seemed all that important...

Dr. Faust: (right up to Ruin’s face, catching him off guard) Health is very important, Mr. Kalidrium, very important indeed. (returning to a cheery demeanor) Now, let’s check your vitals, yes?

(Dr. Faust subjugates Ruin to a series of poking, prodding and measuring, (at times a bit too personal for comfort) until, at last satisfied, the doctor records his findings in the medical chart)

Dr. Faust: How very... interesting.

Ruin: (irritated) Well?

Dr. Faust: Height, 210 cm, weight 121 lbs., blood pressure, unreadable, no pulse, body temperature, below 60........ (with concern) Mr. Kalidrium, you should know that you are severely underweight for your height. I can prescribe a—

Ruin: What?

Dr. Faust: Sir, you are severly underweight, as I have just said, probably attributed to the lack of nutrition your body—

Ruin: (annoyed) Or what? That I've been dead for a couple decades? Could that possibly be it?

Dr. Faust: Ah, yes, that. I see this sort of case regularly. Nothing to be alarmed about, though.

Ruin: (dazed) Excuse me?

Dr. Faust: Clinical deadness. Not unusual, you know. Now as I was saying, there’s this lovely plan I can prescribe to help with your weight—

Ruin: Excuse me???

Dr. Faust: (sighing and rubbing his temples) Venceros said you were a hard one. I no longer wonder what sense of the word he meant.

Ruin: (incredulous) Wait.....Venceros? What?? How do you know... you’re...... You’re a Necromancer, aren’t you!?

(The doctor’s glamour melts away from a clean-cut doctor to a full-fledged, half-haired (scantily dressed) Necrophage. Faust cracks a grin as Ruin attempts to regain his composure.)

Ruin: Who the hell...?

Faust: (bows overdramatically) Elisaide Faust. ‘Tis a pleasure.

Ruin: Why the hell...?

Faust: (shrugs) We’ve got to make a living somehow. Not everyone can do it in such a flashy manner as ‘Ruin the Destroyer’. I have direct orders from Venceros himself to whip you up a lovely concoction. It will actually help rebuild body tissue better than your Shard could alone, because apparently you’re starting to deteriorate. Not to worry though; you’ll have a healthy, radiant glow in less than a we—

Ruin: What the hell are you on? I don’t need your...

Faust: (annoyed) Stop interupting. Yes you do, and I’ll have Vency force-feed it to you, if need be, because health is...

Ruin: (glowers) ...very important. You said.

(There is a knock on the door, and a still shaken receptionist peeks her head into the room. Ruin blinks rapidly at the doctor in disbelief; he is once again as normal and as non-Necromancer-y as possible.)

Receptionist: D-doctor...? Um, um, you’re 12:45 patient is, um...

Dr. Faust: Ah, yes, yes. Just a moment. (back to Ruin) Now, you can pick up the prescription on your way out. I’ve taken the liberty of preparing it ahead of time, for the supplies were a bit... difficult to acquire. (tweeks Ruin’s nose and winks) Tally hoe then!

(The doctor races from the room after the receptionist before Ruin can say anything else.)

Ruin: Hey wait, I... (grumbling)A conspiracy... the whole damn world....

-THE END-