White Blood Cells

In Dr. Death, Promo by Dr. Death

Imagine you’re a little red blood cell floating along the bloodstream of an immunocompromised person. There once was more of your kind, but as time has lapsed your peers have disappeared one by one, leaving your host short of breath and thus ripe for an infection.

You begin to notice foreigners inhabiting your home. Strangers with unfamiliar faces and agendas, they attack your safe space, weakening your host while stressing you into working harder to counteract their advances. What once was a clean stream has now become a dirty river flowing all around you, leaving you hopeless and helpless.

Until help arrives.

An army of white blood cells arrive in the nick of time to fight the germs and save you and your host from wasting away in squalor.

Revolutionaries waged war, fighting and overcoming the oppression to save the day.

Arcadia is becoming more and more infected each day by citizens who are foreign to the proper workings of Arcadia. This regime is making it increasingly difficult for me, for us all to thrive.

Slumlords accumulating power, escalating the anguished, most destitute mongrels to upwards into the upper levels, contaminating and disgracing the beauty of the upper levels that Zeus has so labored to build for us hardworking, well-put-together individuals.

Meandering outlaws wandering where they shouldn’t, gaining access to areas they’re not supposed to be; being given power and authority no one should ever be given in the first place. They’re disrupting the balance of our humanity.

And gypsy souls, roaming Arcadia without true purpose. They don’t serve as productive members of society. Instead, they follow their passion and leech off the rest of us who selflessly prop them up as they march to their own beat.

You’re all misfits inside this temple of Arcadia.

Grimskull, you’re scum. You need to crawl back into the hole you crawled out of, and you can take your filthy followers with you if you’d be so kind, they’re stinking Olympus up.

Drewitt, maybe if you quit bitching about how hard it is being immortal you could grow a pair and start conducting yourself like a man instead of Colt’s bitch.

Mariachi, as I know from first hand experience by now, you reek of rotting epidermis, and your stench follows you with every off-tune note you strum into that festering guitar of yours.

Arcadia desperately needs to cleanse the three of you out before you bring our society as we know it to an end.

That’s why we’re here though.

Like an uprising of white knights the three of us will stifle your advances.

Like a neutrophil, V1sion will use his senses to respond to you first, alerting us of your locations.

Then I, like a leukocyte, shall do my job, fighting you to protect Arcadia from the disease you are.

And when I’m done with you, Tombstone, our monocyte, will clean up you dead cells and take you on your way.

We are Arcadia’s white blood cells, and we’re about to eliminate you and save Arcadia.

Now take a deep breath and close your eyes…

See you on the other side, scumbags.