BIG CRUSH- THE ABBREVIATED ORIGINS OF HERR DOKTOR

When Count X initially tapped me I was enraged. “What does this German lunatic want from me?” I screamed at my own countenance in the mirror. I had accidentally cut myself shaving, and the blood-imbued foam lent a monstrous dimension to my face, as if lascivious lava were at that very moment erupting from some hideous pimple on my chin. My hound barked loudly at the ghoul before him. I was awash with anxiety, utterly exhausted.

Of course, I wasn’t given the luxury of deliberation.

In his letter, Count X made certain thinly veiled threats to my livelihood. He had suggested, in a smug manner reflecting his noble lineage, that should I refuse this offer, there would be a hellish price to pay.

So I embarked on my trip to the Fatherland out of desperation and fear. On the runway before take off, as the pert Lufthansa flight attendants made their rounds, I contemplated all that had come to pass; the brutal geysers of fortune. “Ein Bier bitte,” I bade the prettiest of all the Luftfraus, and hastily began sketching out some notes for the Count’s approval. There could be no turning back.

Now 3 years later I am still holed up in the Count’s country estate. Before my window lies the beautiful Elbe River. The documents are almost complete. I have constructed Herr Doktor in accordance with the Count’s wishes. This is to be his mouthpiece, a forum for the artistic imperatives he holds in high esteem. I am merely a humble servant to this most stringent critic.

Regulations;

HE denies all false applications of pretentious Novocain. Instead, this operation is to be performed without anesthetic. HE wants you to feel the blows of consciousness, to inhale the stink of creative ferment. Absurdity is a fact of daily life. Exhibit its infinite, monstrous facets. To feed off delirium- get high in sweltering fumigated apartments. He told me that the most important factor in the success of our Zeppelin launch is whether youthful ardor will suffice as fuel, whether we can defy gravity with curious enthusiasm and grave indignation- - what u will read was created by hearty novices. Take heed, son.

In Peru, villagers have taken to their beds after a hazardous meteor crash. The investigators of the incident too have fallen ill. Undeniably, an alien bacterium thrives on this space rock. An immense government cover up is already in the works. There is a general panic among the highest ranks about the likelihood of further attacks. There is colossal concern about whether the outbreak will spread. In accordance with the Count’s dying wishes, Herr Doktor will never yield.