Monday, August 29, 2011

Intro: The Familiar Feeling of Radio Waves (Killjoys)

“Look alive, sunshine.”

The voice on the radio brought a smile to the girl’s face as she settled on the station.

“109 in the sky, but the pigs won’t quit. You’re here with me, Dr. Death Defy. I’ll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter, pumping out the slaughter-matic sounds to keep you live.”

“I’m going to need a trace on this, Al,” the girl announced, turning up the volume.

“Why?” Al asked, recognizing the urgency in her friend’s tone and slightly fearing the potential danger it usually lead to.

“ A system failure for the masses! Anti-matter for the master plan. Louder than God’s revolver and twice as shiny.”

The smile on the girl’s face grew and her friend, Al, raised an eyebrow.

“What is this?” she demanded.

Putting a finger to her lips, the girl pointed at the radio.

“This one’s for all you Rock ‘n Rollers, Crash Queens, and Motor Babies.”

The devious smile that had completely consumed the girl’s features had Al a bit on edge. In the past, that look had lead to nothing but trouble on numerous occasions. Though right now, all she wanted was a simple radio trace, the smile gave away deeper intentions.

“Listen up! The future is bullet proof! The aftermath is secondary! It’s time to do it now and do it loud!”

“This is a renegade station,” Al sighed. “Why do you need this traced? How am I supposed to trace it?”

The girl shook her head and pointed a gloved finger to the large machine in front of them, still staring intently at the radio.

“Killjoys, make some noise!”

With a squeal, the girl jumped out of her chair, throwing her hands up in victory.

“We’ve found them!” she screamed.

“Found who?” Al insisted, beginning to sound a bit annoyed.

“The Killjoys,” the girl sighed. “They’re the most prominent rebellion force out here. With our help, they could really make a statement.”

“You’re speaking in riddles. We’re in the middle of the desert and wanted for treason. What kind of statement can we make?”

The girl sighed and her sense of hope seemed to fade a little.

“Honestly, Al, they’re our only hope. If we don’t find the Killjoys, we’re likely to be running forever.”

Al nodded solemnly, turning to the ancient computer on the desk in front of her.

“I’ll get right on that trace,” she muttered.

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