Flay, Kison, and Faraday navigate the smoking crater, careful not to slip an fall on any pieces of jagged, white hot metal sticking out precariously almost as if placed by design to ensure that someone suffered an excruciating stabby death. They don't worry too much, however, having trashed Kison's script.
Climbing over the lip and up onto the scorched red carpet, they again receive applause from expectant scummers and fans. Flay waves for them to quiet down a bit so he can explain this situation.
Mr. Flay:
Everyone, listen, please! Stop applauding! This isn't part of the show!
More applause.
Mr. Flay:
Sigh. Kison, would you...
Kison:
Sure thing.
Kison pulls out his [portable computing device of choice] and presses a button. A loud horn goes off, deafening everyone and causing them to stop clapping in order to protect their ears.
Mr. Flay:
Ahem. Thank you. Now then. As I was saying, this explosion was not planned as part of the Scummies pre-ceremony festivities. We are going forward under the assumption that this was an unprovoked attack by some unknown assailant. That's all the information we have at the moment, but our best scumhunters are on the case...
Kison:
Uh, they are? And who might that be, exactly?
Mr. Flay:
Oh. All of them.
He points at the audience.
Amrun:
Us? But how should we know who did it?
Mr. Flay:
Well, you don't
now
... But perhaps if you discuss it rationally, maybe take a vote...
The quiet crowd at once erupts into a cacophony of accusations, demands for blood, personal attacks... Kison reaches for his [pcdoc] again, but Flay stops them, whispering...
Mr. Flay:
This is how they do things, let's see what they come up with.
Kison shouts back...
Kison:
WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER ALL THE NOISE.
Mr. Flay:
NEVER MIND.
Rainbow Brite:
Welcome back to the Scummies 2011 Red Carpet, where I, Rainbow Brite, am pulling double duty tonight, taking on the additional mantle of investigative journalist as we attempt to get to the bottom of what authorities are now calling a terrorist attack on the ceremony. Let's run through the principal suspects under scrutiny, as the crowd continues to argue its way to the bottom of this disaster.
Fate and LlamaFluff can be seen behind Rainbow Brite, quite literally at each others throats. Somehow, despite LlamaFluff cutting off most of his air supply, Fate manages a surprisingly loud cry...
Fate:
OMG OBV IT WAS MITH. WHY WON'T YOU PEOPLE JUST LIS... ACK!
Rainbow Brite:
As you can see here, no one is above suspicion, and that includes our missing-in-action leader, mith, who is supposedly on vacation but many fear he has gone over to the dark side, or perhaps has been replaced by a killer robot or alien or tiger, and has used his security clearance to wipe out the auditorium. Speaking of tigers, many of the older generation here lay the blame on our frequent enemy of the past. Are they right? Have the tigers been spending the last several years in hiding, plotting this moment? Or are the tigers only a threat in the mind of these war-scarred veterans? Just a moment... Ah, we have JDodge from RadioScum on the phone with some breaking news. JDodge?
JDodge:
Thanks, Rainbow Brite. We have just received an audio recording from a group claiming responsibility for this attack. They are calling themselves "The Eleventh Hour", though I believe the masses have taken to referring to them as "Comedic Third Option". I should warn our younger viewers that some of what you are about to hear is... disturbing... Play the clip, UT.
[Unknown]:
Salutations! It is I, your new Leader, Lord 11th Hour, inventor of UPick, that Mafia variant sensation...
[static]
... My loyal followers have taken what many will view as extreme, horrific action, but I am here to reassure you that this "attack", as it is being unfairly labeled by the mafiascum-stream media, is in fact a revolution. Join us in throwing off the shackles of the Oppressor! We have unleashed the cleansing fire to reset the mafiascum community to that holiest of holy days, November 11th, 2011... Now help us track down the remaining heretics and scoundrels loyal to the old crown of mith. And now, the singing of our new anthem, "All hail the Eleventh Hour"... Argh, what is it, Shea? Can't you see I'm recording something very important here? What do you mean we didn't go through with... shut it off, shut it off!
Rainbow Brite:
Fascinating.
petroleumjelly:
I've got it! I know who is responsible!
Rainbow Brite:
It seems we've had a breakthrough... What conclusion have you come to?
petroleumjelly:
It was xyzzy!
Nothing happens. And then pj bites Rainbow Brite. And then nothing happens some more.
Rainbow Brite:
Ow! Well, the sun is setting here, so we need to come to a decision. There's only one thing to do... can we get a show of hands?
Rainbow Brite reads through the options and counts the hands which go up for each name or group. When she has finished, she tallies up the results, furrows her brown, counts again, and then looks up at the camera.
Rainbow Brite:
Well, this is unexpected... The winner, and therefore guaranteed party responsible for this catastrophe is... a mysterious fifth party? But that wasn't even one of the options I gave... It looks like we're no closer to finding out the identity of those responsible...
Meanwhile, in a secret, undisclosed location, hooded figures are watching the telecast...
[Unknown]:
Blast! An audio recording claiming responsibility, it's so obvious now. How will we ever gain our proper place in the annals of bringing the site to its knees?
[Also Unknown]:
Patience... We've only just begun...
Amrun:
So, now what?
Mr. Flay:
Well, hrm... I don't really know what to say. I mean, obviously the Scummies will have to be cancelled...
This is met with a loud chorus of boos. Someone throws a tomato at Mr. Flay.
Mr. Flay:
Hey! Look, there's nothing I can do about it. We don't have an auditorium!
Kison:
Wait, Flay. We do have these...
He presses a button on his [pcdoc], producing again a loud horn. Everyone's ears bleed a little before he finally manages to shut it off, sheepishly apologizing. He presses a more different button, and this time a fantastic holographic display flashes out from the device.
Mr. Flay:
Is that... the blueprints for the auditorium?
Kison:
Yep. Right down to the shark tank of certain doom hiding beneath that trap door we installed on the stage...
Mr. Flay:
But... I don't get it. It's just a projection. We can't actually hold the Scummies in there.
Kison:
No, but...
He points to the crowd, who are looking intently at the blueprints. One of them leans closer, looking at some specific bit of the foundation, then back at the debris flung from the explosion.
Feysal:
Hey! Look! I think this piece goes...
He jumps down into the bowl of destruction and places the debris into its former home, like a puzzle piece.
Feysal:
Everyone, grab a chunk of rock, let's put this baby back together!
And that's exactly what everyone begins to do. In a short time, the auditorium is... well, it's somewhat reconstructed. There are, of course, a few holes here and there. And putting the sharks back together doesn't go so well.
[Still Unknown]:
But... they... no, they... they can't!
[Yep, You Guessed It]:
So they are rebuilding. No matter. They are falling right into our hands. Once they have rebuilt the auditorium, they will resume their ceremony, and then...
[Still Unknown]:
Oh... yes... of course... ahaha... bwahaha!
[Yep, You Guessed It]:
Dude, you need a new evil laugh. "Bwahaha" just doesn't cut it anymore, this is the 21st century, man.
The Scummies 2011, You Decide... Again!
Which Scummies Steering Committee member will be the first to meet a gruesome end when the ceremony begins?
A. Faraday
B. JDodge
C. Kison
D. Shanba
E. SpyreX
Vote now! Lines open for... several days?
