The Man in the Dark Hood was troubled. Not troubled in his usual way of being a man that helped start a murderous cult dedicated to an actor who was about to raise an army of demons to take over the world. No, he was troubled at a recent turn of events.
“Mr. Cage,” the Man in the Dark Hood hissed more than said, “we cannot fail a third time.”
Nicolas Cage stood with his back to the man, staring at the debauchery of Bourbon Street below him. He took a long sip of a nice scotch and stood with one hand on his hip, pushing his grey suit jacket back like a cape. “Look at them, Davis. Just look at them. Running around. Oblivious to the power I’m about to hold.”
The Man in the Dark Hood had not heard his name used like that in quite some time. He preferred no one used it. “Sir, we have other pressing matters that we must attend to.”
“I’m WELL aware of that,” Nicolas Cage said, turning around, “and I handled it. I sent Gomez to go stop those two idiots before they even set foot in New Orleans. And stop using that ridiculous voice with me.”
The Man in the Dark Hood was shocked. And even more troubled. “Do you really think that Gomez is up for this job? He was trying to stop you just two months ago.”
Cage went back over to the bar and filled up his drink, “That’s moot. He doesn’t even have to stop them. Just delay them long enough for us to get the ritual done. You’re not thinking outside the box, Davis. They just manage to delay us every time we try to stop them. Try to find something new.” He put his hands to his forehead to emphasize how little Davis was currently thinking.
“But Gomez was the Chosen One.” the first one, now that he really sat down and thought of it.
“And the Angels chose poorly,’ Cage said, “otherwise, he wouldn’t have worked so hard to join us.”
“And you sent Jeff with him. We should have killed him.”
“It’s not all about the bloodshed, Davis.”
He wasn’t always the leader of the Cult of Cage. No, at one time, Davis was a not very respected accountant for a firm called Smith, Smith, Smith, and Franklin. Mostly it involved pushing numbers from one column to another, and most of it was to hide how much Franklin was attempting to steal from the company. Yes, he knew about it, and if he had more of a spine, he would have done something to stop it. But as far as he knew, he was happy with his tiny apartment, his meals for one, and his endless parade of movies.
“Sir, Jacob Whelan said--” he was cut off by the Academy Award Winning Actor.
“ENOUGH,” Nicolas Cage replied, and threw his arm around the Man in the Dark Hood, “Enough. I need you to focus on the day to day operations. Make sure that the pit is being reset. Make sure the other minions are busy mininoning. None of this blah, blah, blah, ok?”
It wasn’t until Nicolas Cage stopped talking that he realized that he’d been led to the door. He stepped outside.
“Alice, no more visitors today. I’m going to do my acting exercises.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Cage,” Alice replied. And the door shut behind him. The Man in the Dark Hood looked over at Alice, who continued to type. In another few weeks, they would attempt to sacrifice her again, and this time, she would help to open the portal and achieve immortality on Nicolas Cage’s arm and rule by his side.
The Man in the Dark Hood had enough. Much like the day he decided to walk into Smith, Smith, Smith, and Franklin and announce that he was going to blow the lid of the whole deal. At that point, Smith and Franklin had announced their marriage plans, and an entirely NEW plan was in place, and they would no longer need people that had the ability to blow the lid off any type of plan. Davis was one of those people. A loud, brutish guy who always accused people of stealing the last donut named Cunningham was the other. One of them got promoted to help keep him quiet. Of course, in order to do that, he was going to have to find evidence of someone cooking the books somewhere. Franklin and Cunningham decided to pin the whole thing on Davis, who was unceremoniously fired. It was only the generous intervention of Franklin and Smith that he was not prosecuted.
He seethed down the hall to the quarters of some of where the members of the Cult of Cage spent their few moments of down time, presumably watching movies either by Cage or recommended by Cage. All James Franco movies were banned for some reason.
The Man in the Dark Hood dramatically flung open the doors. Most members of the Cult were afraid of him, particularly because they didn’t know his name. Also, because the dark hood managed to hide his thick glasses, giving off an eerie glow that a lot of members attributed to his soullessness.
“I need volunteers,” The Man hissed.
The Man liked his hissing voice. His hissing voice instilled fear.