COCOMELON! DO DA DO DO DO, SQUEEK!


The parking lot located on East 118th Street was floods with families, screaming children, and a whole ton of toys on this bright and sunny, unseasonably warm February afternoon. What was once a shopping complex with a Costco, Bob's Discount Furniture, and Best Buy was now entirely owned by Midnight Marauder's International -- newly christened as East Harlem's Club Marauder. As was always a tradition, MMI was hosting their 23rd Annual Ryan's World Toy Drive, which doubled as a small scale carnival in an attempt to raise toys and funds for the down-trodden and less-fortunate in New York City. This year drew more families than ever, as the COVID-19 pandemic had hindered these activities for the better part of the last three years. As a man brought his son to a crowded kiosk, he encouraged him to step-up with his prized stuffed T-Rex.

"Um...excuse me misters...I want to give you my friend T-Rex Kobra...I hope he goes to someone who needs him..."

The young boy shakes a bit and slowly reaches out to hand over his toy, but winces back a bit, rethinking the decision. His father puts a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him that what he is doing is for the great good. He flashes a weary smile to the two identical twins before him, and squeezes his son's shoulder. The young boy looks up at the semi-confident eyes of his father and gulps, handing over the toy. He quickly takes off running with tears in his eyes, pushing past multiple people, causing his father to give chase.

"haha...he gave us the T-Rex Kobra! But why is it so fluffy? Shouldn't it have scales?"


"Yeah, it's supposed to be a Kobra, right? HAHAHAA!"


The Voros Twins shared a hearty laugh as they tossed the plush-dinosaur in a bucket that was quickly picked up by full-time construction worker and part-time wrestler Jerry "Screwdriver" McGwire who was lending his strength to MMI on this Winter afternoon. It was carried through a set of swinging doors and through what was once a Verizon Wireless. As Jerry reached the back of the store he found himself face to face with Nicky Delabonte Jr., who had a bombshell of a brunette face deep in his lap. The random woman quickly pulled away from him and adjusted herself into a seated position next to the acting CEO of Midnight Marauders International. Nicky let out a deep, annoyed sigh and clicked his belt back into place.

"Oh um...I have to go -- I hope you enjoyed the...I just have to go find my husband and son, I hope you appreciate my donation."


The woman shuffled past Jerry McGwire, but in an attempt to avoid the box he was carrying she hit a nearby table with her child-bearing hips, knocking over a medium sized Dunkin Donuts coffee. She quickly picked up pace and exited the once respected mobile phone provider storefront. Jerry put the box down near Nicky and quickly picked up the spilt coffee, which was going to be his lunch. The styrofoam cup would drip out a bit, making a wider mess. Jerry growled as he tossed the cup into a nearby trash can.

"Urgh...She spilled the coffee."


Jerry would stomp off, presumably to continue on with the toy drive, leaving Nicky alone in the room. There was no Staff Member Russo today -- he was going to be busy handling other business, so this was a venture left in the capable hands of Nicky and his goons. The Da Vinki's were collecting toys, Jerry was moving them to the back, Nicky would inspect them to see if they could be of any use, and Mark Laundre would dispose of whatever was left in a nearby dumpster. Nicky began to shift through toys -- a broken etch-a-sketch, a Hiro Shin-Mozas action figure missing an arm, a pair of pitch black prison-issued shoes...what were these even doing here? He grabbed a stuffed T-Rex from the box and looked it over, but quickly disregarded it back into the box. Finally, as the items he pulled out began to repeat, something caught his eyes.

It was a plastic, battery powered crown with jewels for buttons. Some of them were clearly not working, but a single purple jewel on the left hand side actually produced a slight hissing noise out of a crappy speaker built into the crown. It seemed like a jingle was supposed to play, but after being long since deteriorated it just couldn't play right. The sound would pulsate in Nicky's ears, bouncing from his ear drum right to the brain, like small electric shocks. He began to hear a voice, perhaps just imagining it, saying clearly to him...

"Until My Coronation...Watch the Throne. Watch the Throne. Watch the Throne. Watch the Throne."


Nicky's breath labored a bit as he clutched at the crown, covering the speaker with his palm so only the slightest hiss would escape. Those words..."Watch the Throne"...he'd been hearing them in his dreams lately, or rather, his nightmares. Things had certainly been rough at MMI lately, as the company continued to pay off it's debts to Russian Oligarchs -- they were nearing a complete payoff, but were now reduced to running shady toy drives where they promise to donate to worthy causes, but are rather looking for collectibles to flip online as nerds were paying a pretty penny at the moment for the early funko pop figures and retro imaginex toys. However, it had recently come on to Nicky that, for the first time since Neil F. Sexton had given him the news that he was currently in charge of Midnight Marauders International, he was alone in this. The Shah was frozen in carbonite...Mick Foley was recording his podcast. Staff Member Russo was being pulled away on a constant basis by other endeavors, leaving Nicky to control his small group of help in an attempt to please investors and Russians.

The hissing wouldn't stop, meaning this toy crown was even more broken than previously thought. Nicky's face began to grow warmer and warmer, blood rushing to it at a boiling speed. He gritted his teeth and squeezed harder, but still, a little sound would escape even then. The stress was perhaps becoming too much for the young geriatric who was beginning to wonder if there was truly any point to being in charge of this company -- was being the CEO worth a damn when the company was worth nothing? The money, the power, the respect, he couldn't even get a casual b*****b from a cheating crack-whore at this point. Those words kept eating away at him, "Watch the Throne." Nicky raised his glare up from his feet on the floor and looked ahead at the mirror he'd had installed. His piss-stained polar bear coat looked grey in the s**t lighting of the room, and he looked as though he was being swallowed in by the used couch he sat in the middle of.

What kind of throne was this? What kind of king was he, if any? The Kingdom that was Midnight Marauders International was more a burden than a blessing at this point, and the New Marauder had been dealing with that realization for longer than he wanted to admit. Nicky struggled to stand, fighting with this sagging couch cushion, but finally did. He gripped the crown even tighter and stepped up to the mirror, finally coming nose-to-nose with himself...curiously however, the eyes in which he gazed into didn't feel like his own. They weren't that of anyone he'd ever met, and yet...he felt as though he'd heard of them once before. These particular eyes, the way that they both looked locked-in and yet also far off in another thought far from the current moment. They struck both fear AND dissatisfaction into the heart of any that dared to think, "what does he want?" The anger point had been reached, as Nicky leaned his head back and slammed it back into the mirror, cracking it and causing a trickle of blood to pour down his forehead.

"Son of a b***h...Watch the ******** throne...you want it, come TAKE IT!"


Nicky quickly did a 180-degree turn and flung the crown, smashing against the wall above where he was just sitting. The crown practically exploded, scattering plastic and discolored gems all along his pre-owned couch. The hissing began to die down as the speaker gave out, giving Nicky a temporary relief. He let out a deep sigh and then turned to look back into the mirror with a huff of his deep breaths. It was in one of the shattered pieces of glass that he saw a figure directly behind him. His vision would blur a bit as he attempted to focus his sight on this single cracked piece of glass, the only to show this person. He didn't recognize them, he couldn't make them out if he tried. They spoke to him, in a voice so reminiscent of the one he'd been hearing in his dreams.

"...But Arthur was determined to pull that sword out. Side stepping everyone, Arthur attempted to pull the sword out. He was unsuccessful, but he pulled it just a bit, more than anyone else would. Arthur eventually stopped trying to pull the sword. Later on Arthur gathered a group of men to travel across the land, fighting battles and gathering followers and troops. He would go on to conquer his land and rule for many years, going down as one of the greatest kings to ever rule over the land, always wondering what happened to the sword. No one had pulled it out.

Until my coronation, watch the throne."


As the figure finished, Nicky again reared his head back and slammed it into the mirror, shattering it to pieces that rain upon him and the floor beneath. Everything went black for a second as Nicky struggled to stay standing, his eyes closing as blood and glass mixed into a deadly waterfall from his forehead. He dropped down to a knee, unable to keep his footing. A distressed Mark Laundre storms into the room, blubbering in tears as he finds his boss bloodied and kneeling in a pile of sharp reflective glass fragments. Nicky's blood loss was rapid, and he was quickly slipping away as the Da Vinki twins and Jerry entered to see what the commotion was about. They fumbled around trying to get in touch with Russo through a phone in the corner. Nicky began to feel a warm sensation on his knee, but knew that the blood couldn't have gotten down there just yet. It was then that the realization hit him, as the following words escaped his puckered lips before he passed out:

"She spilled the ******** coffee..."