Martin Karloff- No Bloody Milk

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A dark room. One single dim light bulb.

He is pacing back and forth.

"You marked old Martin off of your list as if the task was done." Martin says. He is speaking to an LFL poster of Trixie. There is something unhinged about his voice. Like an animal barely hanging onto control.

The Manticore.

"That was... it was RUDE Trixie. Very very rude of you." Martin says, anger staining every word.

"Trixie Trixie...pretty pretty Trixie... oh It is overJOYED to have this moment. To view the dismay on your face. It heard your boasts. You boast of being whole in an attempt to mock It." Martin says before he devolves into uproarious laughter over this concept.

"Oh poor poor Trixie. You show off your playbook with no regard. For you see both halves of Martin know exactly who they step into the ring with... but Trixie... Trixie has no idea. Trixie will not know who is in the ring with her until it is too late." Martin says. He stops and looks at the poster, leaning in and sniffing along 'Trixie's' neck.

"It went to the trouble of finding your perfume to prepare...but It bets you smell better in person." Martin says as he exhales the scent. He snaps out of it. Suddenly he stands straight and adjusts his tie, clearing his throat.

The Phantom.

"Apologies, Trixie. It seems my other half is quite taken with you. Admittedly his brand of courtship ends with fire and barbed wire but I assure you his enamoration is fickle and fleeting. We are both dedicated to our lovely wife, after all." Martin says.

"Trixie pretty. It wants her heart." Martin says, his feral side interrupting himself.

"We are a married man, Beast." The Phantom responds.

"Literal."

"Oh...yes that makes more sense. Thank you for clearing the air on that. Wouldn't want to upset Xaria." Martin says in his sophisticated voice. He's always had an accent that no one could really place. Truth be told it was more that he was raised by old horror films and adopted a pattern of overenunciation that gave his voice a vaguely posh British flair.

"Now then, Trixie. You've talked at length about your list and my beastly other half made a good point for once. Did you not consider how utterly rude it was to cross us off that list without even facing us? You don't mark an item off a list until the deed is done. Tell me, Trixie... if you were to go shopping and you found that an item on your shopping list was missing, would you cross it off of of your list as if you had picked it up? WHY WOULD YOU CROSS OFF MILK IF THERE'S STILL NO BLOODY MILK, TRIXIE?!" The Phantom asks, raising an eyebrow. He takes a moment to compass himself, straightening his tie.

"Arrogance, Trixie. The Manticore may be enamored with your perfume but to me you reek of arrogance. Tell me, Trixie... for all your posturing and list-making and name-crossing... where is your championship? Nowhere to be seen it seems... Curious. Very curious." Martin says, his hand on his chin.

"Oh but I can hear you already Trixie... accusing me of similar arrogance. I will not deny the sense of superiority I feel in comparison to a vast majority of individuals but in my case? My arrogance is supplemented with evidence." Martin says. He chuckles darkly.

"How must it feel that in my first match back I performed the action you have repeatedly clung to as your claim to fame when I defeated Jack Tillman. What do you have that I don't, Trixie? Unity between the disparate halves of your mind? Id, Ego, and Superego all working in unison? Well I've asked the absurdly mediocre 'Monster Messiah' how important that is and I hate to inform you that it is GROSSLY overrated." Martin says. He looks at the poster.

"So for my Sermon this week, I will teach the world the dangers of unearned arrogance and showing how easily it is struck down in the face of nuanced and well-researched arrogance. I am not asking you to join my Church, Trixie. I am not asking you to fall at the knees of the Allfather." Martin says. He looks away from the poster to the camera.

"All I am asking is that you attempt to take this loss with some degree of dignity." He says. He reaches up to the light bulb and grabs the pull chain.

"Plot and Scheme." The Phantom says. He pulls the string and the light turns off.

"Rip and Tear." The Manticore adds before we hear a small chuckle.

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