[b]Pacific Point FBI Field Office[/b] "Well, looks like the tide has turned, hasn't it Krauss?" Wilhelm Krauss, colloquially known as the Gargoyle, said nothing. He winced slightly as the FBI detective swung a table lamp towards him to shine a light in his eyes but remained largely stone-faced. "As I understand it, you also held that poor girl captive and interrogated her for...information on a mutant smuggling ring?" the agent recited after briefly shuffling through her notes. She shot the commander a smug grin and waved the folder in front of his eyes. "Your underlings were very helpful in regards to your actions over the last few days, Krauss." The Gargoyle growled like an animal and jumped at her, the handcuffs securing him to the chair snapping straight. Barely even flinching, the agent returned to her notes. "In any case, we have an interesting list of crimes here. Kidnapping, conspiracy, attempting murder, destruction of property...possibly even theft. I doubt you Hounds made this machine here on your own." She tossed a photo in front of him depicting the charred remains of the Gargyole robot. "Let's be frank here, you're going to go away for a long time unless you're willing to tell me about your superiors. Names, locations, future plans..." The Gargoyle fixed her with a stony glare that said everything that needed to be said. With a sad little sigh, the agent got to her feet and collected her things. "Well, if you want to tell me anything, I'll be right back," she said with an air of finality. "I must warn you, the regional team is going to be far less generous then I am, and if it gets that far capital punishment will be pretty inescapable. Consider it, Krauss." And with that, the agent spun on her heel and walked out of the room, leaving the defeated commander alone with his thoughts. "Mutant-loving bitch," he grumbled, wincing as a stab of pain coursed through his head. "That's not very polite, you know." The Gargoyle looked up curiously as the door reopened and a more pleasant sounding voice filtered through it, followed by a man wearing the thick, concealing FBI SWAT armor. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded. "I'm your escape, sir!" the SWAT man said, moving to undo his handcuffs. "Old fashioned jailbreak. Already took care of the guards outside so its a clear shot to the outside." "Didn't expect you to move so fast, frankly," the Gargoyle commented, rubbing his wrists tenderly as the shackles fell away. "Well, I won't complain, lead on." The pair of them silently and efficiently made their way through the building, the Gargoyle making sure to step on the fingers of the few guards lying unconscious outside. Dodging a few patrolling officers near one of the stairwells, the two Hounds detoured into an elevator, the door gliding shut behind them. Before the Gargoyle could breath a sigh of relief, the SWAT armored Hound quickly pressed the button for the top floor. "No, we want to go to the ground floor, idiot!" "But how will I ever get to the top that way?" Puzzled by this cryptic statement, the Gargoyle scowled at the man and pushed the floor button correctly, only to find it wouldn't even go in. Angrily, he tried to hit the emergency stop but the button would not work. "The hell is wrong with the elevator in this place?" he demanded of no one in particular. "Ohh...perhaps its a small mistake," the SWAT man said. "A tiny piece that thinks its so important but it only just messes things up. Sure it'll be a hassle to get rid of the problem, but hey. That's showbiz for ya!" The Gargoyle turned to look at the man incredulously. "Wait with the cryptic statements until later, will you? You're supposed to get me out of here!" The Gargoyle's confused anger intensified as the man in the armor simply laughed, sounding almost playful in his joy at the circumstances. "Oh, the commander thinks he's being rescued, only to learn the horrible truth when it's too late! What pathos! What dramatic irony!" The Gargoyle's face paled as the armored man turned to look at him, lifting up his face mask to reveal that perpetual inhuman grin. [color=0072bc]"Nothing my audience loves better then dramatic irony, darling!"[/color] "N-no....no...!" [color=0072bc]"Oh, where are you going?"[/color] Primetime cooed as the Gargoyle made a break for it out of the now open doors. Running on fear-induced adrenaline, the Hounds commander spun around the corner only to come face to face with Primetime, bedecked in that teal suit once again. [color=0072bc]"You're going to miss your grand finale if you act like that!"[/color] Primetime produced a staff from the air with a handle shaped like a microphone and held it to his face. [color=0072bc]"What are your final thoughts, Mr. Krauss? Did you enjoy your little stint on my show?"[/color] "FUCK YOU!" The Gargoyle knocked the staff out of his hand and turned to run when out of the seemingly empty office burst another Primetime, performing a little dance as he appeared. [color=0072bc]"Ooh, that's rude,"[/color] the deranged showman pondered. [color=0072bc]"Will the censors allow it?"[/color] [color=0072bc]"Oh I think it's okay this one time,"[/color] the original Primetime responded. [color=0072bc]"It's his grand exit after all!"[/color] The Gargoyle watched in horror as two Primetimes popped out of another office to lean casually against the wall. [color=0072bc]"And even if its just a bit part,"[/color] they began in tandem as six of them emerged from the hallway. [color=0072bc]"...it should still be a grand exit!"[/color] The Gargoyle was paralyzed with fear as more and more Primetimes poured into the room, coming from the offices, charging down the hallway, swarming from the elevator, even dropping down from the air vents and climbing over cubicle walls. [color=0072bc]"Stop...get away...GET AWAY!"[/color] The Gargoyle pressed against the glass window behind him as the Room flooded with Primetimes, closing in and pressing against him, crushing him into the plane glass. He cried out in terror as the pressure suddenly released. Looking around, he immediately wished he hadn't as a hand closed around him. Terror robbing him of speech, the Gargoyle looked up at the face of a truly massive Primetime, a giant dozens of stories tall, still smiling broadly. He didn't want to know how far off the ground he was. [color=0072bc]"As I said before,"[/color] the giant Primetime continued. [color=0072bc]"You were only a small part in a much larger machine, and sadly you couldn't even do that part right."[/color] Opening up his hand, he gave a nonchalant shrug. [color=0072bc]"It's a shame really. Gone so soon..."[/color] Primetime tipped his hand and watched as the Gargoyle toppled over into the sky. [color=0072bc]"...when the show is only just beginning."[/color] --- "So what's the ruling here?" "My preliminary guess is suicide," the CSI said to the FBI agent. "As best I can tell, Krauss slipped out of his cuffs, somehow made his way to the top of the building and jumped." The FBI agent felt her stomach turn as camera flashes highlighted the mangled corpse of the former Gargoyle embedded in someone's car. Turning away from the grisly image, she peered up at the building itself, where a jagged hole had been punched through the glass several stories above. "The workers on that floor said he was screaming his head off before he jumped," the agent commented. "You think he just went nuts?" "Entirely possible. I can run a toxicology report to rule out any mind-altering substances, if you'd like." "Yeah, go ahead and do that," the agent said with a sad sigh, thinking of all the paperwork she'd have to fill out for this.