Post by Tic-Tac on Aug 17, 2014 5:03:02 GMT -5
The laboratory under Villa DeVil was a modest one, in comparison to P.H. DeVil's home laboratory in Stiffle, but it served well enough for his needs.
For Cruella's needs.
Really, what more could he ask for? Fresh chemicals delivered daily, fresh test subjects next door, the moral ramifications of animal research all but a fading memory. A distant dream when his laboratory was at the mercy of Animal cruelty activists, and law makers who couldn't see past petty things like morals and humanity. Cruella had solved all of that- giving him a private laboratory to work with, away from prying eyes and ears. All he needed to do in return was feed into her insanity. The curious and obstinate obsession with the farm next door, and the 101 dalmatians living there. A brand new coat. Land with a fantastic value. Anita's fashionable designs. It really didn't matter, and P.H. really didn't care. It was one thing or another that Cruella was obsessed with, and like it or not, it was his cousin that had the money to burn.
And it was his cousin that he had to put up with.
So help Cruella out with her destructive habits. Help her catch the canines, or ruin the land, or steal the land or whatever it is that she decided she wanted that weekend. P.H. could do that. He could lend a portion of his magnificent mental acuity to Cruella's bursts of insanity, and in turn, prosper or fail, she would leave him along for months at a time, before deciding she wanted his help again. That was all P.H. really wanted...he could put up with her for one of her 'episodes' if it meant more time for his research and his experiments. P.H. had developed a considerable tolerance for his cousin, and frankly, her schemes all by failed to shock him.
She failed to shock him- the puppy sitting in the middle of his lab, however, did not.
At first...well, at first, P.H. thought the little blighter had accidentally wandered in somehow. Gotten lost from the farm next door. But, no. This canine didn't jump up, barking wildly, and wagging it's tail, like normal canines. This dog, sitting in the middle of his laboratory almost seemed like it was waiting for him to enter- to be noticed, and observed.
Indeed, this canine puppy sat quietly, peering at the lab coat clad frame of P.H. with a glittering pair of crystal blue eyes, an X over it's right eye, and an O across it's left. It stared at P.H. Hard. Glaring, almost, as if this tiny creature was attempting to burrow sheer hatred itself into P.H.'s forehead. To be honest, the dog was fascinating. It didn't bark or cry out. If anything, if it were even possible, the canine looked annoyed. Still, a test specimen was a test specimen, and P.H. picked up the nearest object that he could; A blunt wrench. A little head trauma had a tendency to make his test subjects far more submissive.
Thats when everything changed. When the world spun around on it's head, and reality casually stepped out for a cigarette break. Thats when the dog in the middle of the room decided to speak.
"P.H. DeVil. I believe it is time you and I finally became acquainted. Using parts from your laboratory, I've built myself a voice modulator which I've attached to my collar, which is how you and I are now speaking. My name is Tac, Mr. DeVil, and I believe you and I have quite a bit in common. We are creatures of science, with a thirst for knowledge that cannot be quenched. We are driven by endless curiosity, and have cast of the shackles of morality...You and I, Mr. DeVil, have a common goal. I wish to be rid of the ignorance of the farm next door, the false idols that would lay claim to be my parents, and mostly that IDIOT Lucky Dearly, and his friends. Mr P.H. DeVil. I believe we have much to discuss. "
For Cruella's needs.
Really, what more could he ask for? Fresh chemicals delivered daily, fresh test subjects next door, the moral ramifications of animal research all but a fading memory. A distant dream when his laboratory was at the mercy of Animal cruelty activists, and law makers who couldn't see past petty things like morals and humanity. Cruella had solved all of that- giving him a private laboratory to work with, away from prying eyes and ears. All he needed to do in return was feed into her insanity. The curious and obstinate obsession with the farm next door, and the 101 dalmatians living there. A brand new coat. Land with a fantastic value. Anita's fashionable designs. It really didn't matter, and P.H. really didn't care. It was one thing or another that Cruella was obsessed with, and like it or not, it was his cousin that had the money to burn.
And it was his cousin that he had to put up with.
So help Cruella out with her destructive habits. Help her catch the canines, or ruin the land, or steal the land or whatever it is that she decided she wanted that weekend. P.H. could do that. He could lend a portion of his magnificent mental acuity to Cruella's bursts of insanity, and in turn, prosper or fail, she would leave him along for months at a time, before deciding she wanted his help again. That was all P.H. really wanted...he could put up with her for one of her 'episodes' if it meant more time for his research and his experiments. P.H. had developed a considerable tolerance for his cousin, and frankly, her schemes all by failed to shock him.
She failed to shock him- the puppy sitting in the middle of his lab, however, did not.
At first...well, at first, P.H. thought the little blighter had accidentally wandered in somehow. Gotten lost from the farm next door. But, no. This canine didn't jump up, barking wildly, and wagging it's tail, like normal canines. This dog, sitting in the middle of his laboratory almost seemed like it was waiting for him to enter- to be noticed, and observed.
Indeed, this canine puppy sat quietly, peering at the lab coat clad frame of P.H. with a glittering pair of crystal blue eyes, an X over it's right eye, and an O across it's left. It stared at P.H. Hard. Glaring, almost, as if this tiny creature was attempting to burrow sheer hatred itself into P.H.'s forehead. To be honest, the dog was fascinating. It didn't bark or cry out. If anything, if it were even possible, the canine looked annoyed. Still, a test specimen was a test specimen, and P.H. picked up the nearest object that he could; A blunt wrench. A little head trauma had a tendency to make his test subjects far more submissive.
Thats when everything changed. When the world spun around on it's head, and reality casually stepped out for a cigarette break. Thats when the dog in the middle of the room decided to speak.
"P.H. DeVil. I believe it is time you and I finally became acquainted. Using parts from your laboratory, I've built myself a voice modulator which I've attached to my collar, which is how you and I are now speaking. My name is Tac, Mr. DeVil, and I believe you and I have quite a bit in common. We are creatures of science, with a thirst for knowledge that cannot be quenched. We are driven by endless curiosity, and have cast of the shackles of morality...You and I, Mr. DeVil, have a common goal. I wish to be rid of the ignorance of the farm next door, the false idols that would lay claim to be my parents, and mostly that IDIOT Lucky Dearly, and his friends. Mr P.H. DeVil. I believe we have much to discuss. "