Wisps (Monty)

Dr. Monty: In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best idea to leave the most powerful artifact in this, or any other, dimension just lying on the fucking table! But in all fairness, Maxis was a bit of a wild card. I mean you remember, he was actually just a little drone the last time you saw him. Anyway, he's in the Summoning Key now, and buggered if I know how we're going to get him out.

Dr. Monty: Something else I should probably clarify: This. Is. It. The Aether. The Infinite. Otherwise known as Agartha. Or is it Ar-gar-tha? Well whatever way you slice it, or spell it, it's the reality beyond. Beyond the world you know. Beyond your perception. Just so we're clear, I'm absolutely not talking about death. That's a whole other can of worms. Speaking of which, you know how people say when you cut a worm in half, both parts keep on living? Well, they do! Kind of.. for a bit. But then one of them dies, not sure if it's the ass or the head, but that's the problem with worms: They're a bit short on distinguishing features. Ehh… eh, what was the point I was making?

Dr. Monty: In the beginning, and believe me there was a beginning, everything was in its proper place. Time was linear, just as it should be. But a little thing called Element 115 changed all that. Especially when, what was it again? Oh yes, when Group 935 came along. Once they started messing around with it, they buggered everything up. 115 shouldn't even exist in your dimension! But, nonetheless, here we are! Bloody teleporters.

Dr. Monty: Once Element 115 came along, the Apothicons weren't far behind. Have I mentioned them yet? The Apothicons are beings that feed on energy. Wait, that's a... oversimplification. Energy is a rather broad term. It may be better to explain it as the spark of life: The purest form of energy that ever existed. Is that better? Hmm, not sure... Sounded a bit hippity-dippity new-agey when I said it out loud. Anyway, this energy, the Apothicons feed on it. They conquer and consume dimensions, it's kind of... their thing. The ball-crushingly bad news is that their appetite is ferocious, veracious, insatiable even. They're hungry. Very hungry. Bottom line, if you don't sort shit out, they're going to gobble up this universe just like they gobbled up so many others.

Dr. Monty: Now here's the thing: I knew a bloke, and I'm talking way way way back. He was the sweetest, most charming individual you could ever wish to meet. He was funny, too! We used to have such a good ole laugh together. Honestly my sides hurt thinking about it. He was my friend... He was my best friend. And then the Apothicons got hold of him. Since then he's pretty much acted as their agent, zipping around the galaxy. Wait... I- I keep changing it, don't I? Which do you prefer: Universe, multiverse, omni-fucking-verse, oh it doesn't really fucking matter, does it? Eh, let’s get on with it. Erm, short version is: He's no longer sweet, charming, or funny. He's what brought them here; When he escaped the key.

Dr. Monty: The Keepers, an ancient order who had been granted the wisdom to see beyond the limitations of their own realm. Even while the rest of mankind scrabbled around in the dirt, drinking their own piss, the Keepers took the mantle of benevolent watchers. Like the seers and sages of the old world, they could foresee how the actions of the Apothicons would lead to the destruction of life itself. The Keepers have always been here. Much like your good selves, they too were scattered and fragmented across the multiverse. They may have acted erratically but know this, their actions were only ever concerned with the preservation of life itself. Remember what I said before about energy?

Dr. Monty: The minute you people teleported for the first time, you changed the rules. How am I supposed to keep track if you keep moving the pieces? Even when you were just a little problem, brewing in the far corner of existence, I tried to throw you a bone or two. I told you this, didn’t I? The magic box of weapons, the little clues here and there. I always tried to give you a little help, without drawing too much attention to myself. The thing is, though, I can't just magic things out of thin air. I have to manipulate things that already exist in your reality. Like the perk drinks: They were something originally cooked up by Group 935. I just (Whistles) I just used them for my own ends. (Chuckles) I honestly don't even know how they work, I-I-I swear! As for the songs, (Chuckles) don't get me started!

Dr. Monty: I know the Shadowman’s probably talking to you. Don't trust him! He's evil. I wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire. I bet he's saying all sorts of terrible things, spreading all kinds of rumours about me. By the way, I spell rumours with a U: After the O, before the R. That's a nice little ‘easter egg’. In fact, it's everything.

Dr. Monty: It's too much information sometimes, know what I mean? I know you must be struggling to take it all in, but can you imagine how I feel? I've got heart felt prayers for the Angels, dying people's wish lists, and letters to fucking Santa coming out of my bleedin’ ears! It's hard to keep up, honestly! I hardly ever get any time for myself, or even just time to stand back and appreciate all the good that I've done. And now, I've got the bloody Shadowman and the Apothi-cocky-cons throwing an intergalactic spanner in the works!

Dr. Monty: Here's something I just noticed: All of you died pretty much as you lived. Dempsey bravely followed orders. Takeo accepted his fate with honour. Nikolai battled with... his own demons. It's funny, isn't it? Richtofen’s the only one that really didn't see it coming. I'm quite pleased with that.

Dr. Monty: I made an app once, at least I think that's what you call it. It started off really simple: All people did was press a button to indicate whether or not they’d had a good day. I tracked the data for everyone in the world. I mean it was meant to help me understand people. It worked. But even in its simplest form it was... too much to take in. It actually made me depressed. It's hard trying to please everyone. Ah, I'm getting worked up, honestly! You have no idea how hard it's been from my side. Sorry... Keep up the good work. I'm sure you'll sort it out.

Dr. Monty: If I'm honest, I'm a bit scared. Seriously. Brown trousers time. I mean, I know it's the same old story: The forces of good and evil battling it out, yeah yeah... But no one ever tells you how much hard work it fucking is! You know, I'm not ALL powerful. It's always been a struggle to stay on top of it, now more than ever! If it had been entirely up to me, it would've been a lot more straightforward, I tell you. Do what you can, eh?

Dr. Monty: Okay, I think I've found a way to talk to you. Given all the shit hitting the fan, there's not much I can do other than give you a bit of encouragement. How about I give you some facts. Little ones. Quick ones. Fun ones. It'll be good for morale.

Dr. Monty: Right, here we go. It's a bit like, uh, the news, this... I mean reading it, on television. Sorry, I-I-I'm rambling. You should see what the Shadowman's doing back here. Eh, okay...

Dr. Monty: Apparently, Richtofen has a problem with nuts. Make of that what you will.

Dr. Monty: Edward doesn't like spicy food. His brain gets distracted. Bad things happen.

Dr. Monty: Richtofen’s favorite song is "My Way". He wonders when he will get to sing it.

Dr. Monty: At the orphanage, Edward told everyone his dad was a famous scientist. They scrawled "Teddy is a Liar" on the schoolyard wall.

Dr. Monty: Edward Richtofen has trouble sleeping without a teddy bear. A problem that didn't present itself until he was an adult.

Dr. Monty: Richtofen has a desperate need to feel appreciated. His ego is actually very fragile.

Dr. Monty: Takeo has never once tasted American chocolate. I made sure I spared him that particular brand of suffering.

Dr. Monty: The extent of Takeo's suffering at the hands of Division 9 is far far worse than you can imagine.

Dr. Monty: Takeo has a secret hobby. He does not speak of it for fear that he will be mocked.

Dr. Monty: Takeo is actually pronounced Ta-kay-oh. Or is it Tak-e-oh? Tak-ee-oh? It's one of life's biggest mysteries.

Dr. Monty: Takeo knows that somewhere, sometime, he wasn't betrayed. He was honored.

Dr. Monty: Throw a grape in the air, Takeo Masaki can slice it clean in half even without a katana.

Dr. Monty: "Tank" Dempsey once bet fifty dollars that he could eat fifty hard-boiled eggs in fifteen minutes.

Dr. Monty: It's rumoured that "Tank" Dempsey's real name is Thomas. Ah, not true. It's Ringo. Only joking! (Chuckles) Or am I?

Dr. Monty: "Tank" Dempsey holds the all-time record for one-armed push-ups. Even in the universe where everyone only had one!

Dr. Monty: On over eighteen-million occasions, Dempsey gave his life for the sake of his team. He's a bonafide american hero.

Dr. Monty: "Tank" Dempsey once caught his testicles in the springs of a bed frame. And he lived to tell the tale! So remember kids, keep your mattresses tight!

Dr. Monty: Dempsey can throw a grenade further- er, farther than the greatest professional baseball players. He attributes this skill to his solitary arm-training regime.

Dr. Monty: The only time "Tank" Dempsey ever feared for his life was fifteen minutes after taking an ill-advised bet.

Dr. Monty: Nikolai once bottle-fed vodka to a bear cub. They both regretted it... before and after.

Dr. Monty: Nikolai Belinski's grasp of the pros and cons of Capitalist and Communist economies is tenuous at best.

Dr. Monty: Nikolai loved his wife. He was never the same after she died.

Dr. Monty: Nikolai once had a brother. I... don't know why he forgot him.

Dr. Monty: For many years, I tried watering down Nikolai's vodka. He just drank more.

Dr. Monty: Nikolai's breath is legendary, even though no one has ever actually smelled it.

Dr. Monty: At one point, or some point, Nikolai used to be a writer. He kept journals of his many travels in Europe. Much of it grossly exaggerated of course.