Static Fish Idea (Spoilers)

This a preliminary script for a short comic to be done in the next month or so.

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A black helicopter lands atop a secluded military installation. A suit steps out, hastily dressed and carrying a cup of coffee, then is greeted by a young, professional agent.

Agent:
Good afternoon, sir, welcome to the West Pole.

Suit:
Good afternoon to you too, son, now would you mind telling me just what exactly in the sam hell I am doing out here in the middle of nowhere on my golf day?

They walk through an enormous, heavily defended gate into a dingy elevator. The agent presses a button marked "Freaky Stuff."

Agent:
Sir, you are familiar with the element codenamed "Slippery Cowboy?"

The suit, mid sip, drops his cup of coffee and stares, wide eyed, at the agent.

Suit:
I know it won us the cold war.

Agent:
That's a start. What I am about to tell you is Tip Top Secret. On any given day for the rest of your life you may be chosen to be killed by random lottery.

Suit:
Tell me.

The pair exit the elevator into a vast subterranean futuristic room built around the remnants of an ancient looking archway.

Agent:
You know that it masterminded the Secret Siberian AIDS War, but the fact is that it has consistently been one of the most influential forces in world politics for an indefinite span of history. I can tell you that it invented Coca-Cola, wrote the Gettysburg Adress, presided over the signing of the Declaration of Independence and then personally delivered it to the King of England.

They enter an endless hallway. Scantily clad women bearing lobotomy scars greet them cheerfully as they enter.

Agent:
Slippery Cowboy has been the head of Skull and Bones since the group's inception and served as Santa Claus from 1902-1956. The fact is that this country would not exist without it, but that is just the beginning. It was reportedly an advisor to 300 European kings over the span of of 500 years and personally orchestrated the rise, fall, and undersea reemergence of the Roman empire. We recently discovered references to it in Sumerian texts depicting it as the God of Snakes and Low Low Prices.

They enter another dingier, smaller elevator. The suit looks like his mind has been blown.

Agent:
Then, nine years ago, it disappeared after a particularly hostile G8 Summit poker game. Ever since. . . well, you know.

The Suit gawks mindlessly. His nose is bleeding.

Suit:
What does this have to do with me?

The doors open on a small room dominated by a vault door. The Agent punches a code and opens it.

Agent:
Two days ago it was found and recovered in a bar in El Paso. I present to you, sir, Maruhaim the Lamprey Prophet.

Lying in a puddle on the floor of the lavishly furnished room is a lamprey eel the size of a car.

Lamprey Prophet:
KHLKKAKSHHAHKAHKKSHACHHSHKKK!

The suit is now bleeding from his eyes and ears. He pulls out a cel phone.

Suit:
Mr. Senator?

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It hasn't really got a point yet.

Recent Tunes

This is pretty much an album. Haven't got any titles. Stuff I worked on over the summer, all improvised and pieced together in Audacity, created almost entirely with heavily manipulated bass guitar. Often found myself critiquing them and then listening on repeat.

for fans of: drone, ambient, electronic, sound collage, spooky stuff. A little noisy, maybe a tad shoegazery at times.

Stream here.

1.mp3

2.mp3

3.mp3

4.mp3