Igor had no idea what was going on. Just a few minutes ago, he was doing battle with a large group of bizarre spider-thingies and the next… well, he wasn’t quite sure where he was.
The scenery changed around him completely. Suddenly, he was standing before a large crowd, lights of all colors and intensities blaring on him. The roar of the people before him was deafening, especially due to his external reptilian eardrums. Clearing his throat, he barked an order to his armor.
“Armor: retract battle mode. Activate eardrum sensitivity gear.”
“Acknowledged.” his armor chirped, replacing his gun and launchers with two round cylinders blocking out all sound over 120 decibels.
“What the…?” Igor began to mutter as a man dressed in tattered leather vest, tight pants, chains galore, and purple mohawk-ed hair approached him. The man spoke in a gruff British accent.
“Hey, man!” the guy said, scratching his exposed chest. “What’s the big idea, barging onto the stage like that in the middle of a concert?"
“A what?” Igor said, not believing his ears.
“We’re the band Mucus Creek and you’re totally ruining our show!” the man said, emphatically pointing at the drummer and bass player who sat in the background, looking at the odd reptile who had just shown up.
“I can play guitar,” Igor said slowly, trying to sound convincing. He really did play, everything from classical to classic rock, but didn’t know if he’d be needed… and was afraid to think what would happen if he wasn’t.
“Blimey!” the man said, smacking his purple head with his hand. “You’re Hector’s replacement, then, eh?”
“Uh… yeah! Yeah, that’s me!” Igor said, relieved.
“Well, c’mon over, then, mate!” he said, leading Igor, before the thousands of screaming fans, to the left side of the stage. “Here’s your equipment, then. Name’s Rik. What’s yours?”
“Uh… Igor,” the boy reptile said.
“Great to know you, Igor!” Rik said, snapping his fingers and strutting over the microphone. “LADIES AND GENTS! I’D LIKE YOU TO MEET THE NEWEST MEMBER OF MUCUS CREEK! ON THE GUITAR, PLEASE WELCOME… IGOR!”
“Oh, boy…” Igor muttered to himself, clicking the guitar onto the holster he had made specifically for the electric guitar. “What have I gotten myself into now?”
Meanwhile…
Boards away, Igor Jr. stared pensively at the screens before him. Looking up at Joker2, he shook his head.
“Nope,” he sighed. “The Klone Dome reference logs don’t have any information about anyone by the name of Lucifer Vandross.”
“Crap,” Joker2 muttered, spinning around as fast as he could in his “captain’s chair”.
“Whoa!” Super Sloth said, holding up his hands at his console.
“What?” Joker2 asked, as he stopped his spinning.
“Those demons are really ripping away…” the Sloth muttered. “We’ve got a hull breach in Sectors 12 and 27….”
“Alright, guys,” the clown said, dizzily rubbing his hands through his green hair. “We’ve got a problem and as of right now, I can think of no way to…”
“Whoa! Hold it right there!” Igor screamed, pointing to the external sensory screen.
“What now?” Joker2 said, racing over to Igor’s console.
“I’ve got two distinct Hyperboard variance signatures here,” the reptile said, indicating two closely related points on his screen. “One indicates an exit from this Board and one indicates and entrance.”
“Entrance?” Joker2 asked as Super Sloth came up from behind. “Friend or foe?”
“No idea,” Igor shrugged. “Wanna send out a probe and find out?”
Joker2 scratched his chin for a second, pondering (something he rarely enjoyed doing – so he rarely did it).
“Send out the probe, Eeg,” J2 said authoritatively. Igor Jr. nodded, pressing a button that released a small metal sphere from it’s holster in the bowels of the Klone Dome towards an as of now unsuspecting Eurostar.
