The First Waldonian Empire

The following takes place following: The Madness of Mayor Travers

Some time later, the Master awakens, still submerged in darkness in his container, to the sound of raised voices. He hears what sounds like Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and Mr Boothe. He listens intently...

Mr Boothe: Sorry, Mr Mayor. I told him he needed an appointment, but he just rushed in here.

Travers: It's alright, Mr Boothe... Master Wyndam-Pryce. What an unexpected surprise. I’d have thought you'd be too busy trying to woo my disabled wife...

Wesley: Dr Fraser... I demand to know why he was arrested.

Travers: What concern is it of yours?

Wesley: For one thing, he's a valuable asset to the Council. More personally, he was helping treat your wife’s condition. I was just at his clinic, looking to replenish our healing supplies. It was boarded up. His EMH is sitting out on the street. He told me everything—that on the mayor's orders, Dr Fraser was arrested last night.

Travers: Well, it is very unfortunate. But the fact of the matter is—he’s an illegal. He doesn’t have a green card. Neither does his associate. Now, what kind of Mayor would I be if I allowed that sort of thing? I promised to be tough on immigration. Unfortunately, they have to go. It’s the law. He’s currently being held at a detention centre awaiting deportation. I hear Rwanda is nice this time of year.

Wesley: You can’t be serious.

Travers: Do I look like I’m joking?

Wesley: Well… now that you mention it…

Travers: Look, I’ll tell you what. While I don’t approve of you moving in on my wife, I can tell you care for her — and she needs all the care she can get. So here. Take the keys to the shop. Take whatever you need. In fact, better yet — why don’t you run it? You and the EMH can serve the public while we wait for a new, legal witch doctor.

Wesley: That’s not good enough. Dr Fraser and his associate must be released. What about Master Devlin? They were trying to fix him.

Travers: Master Devlin is goblin now. I will mentor him. The sooner he accepts it and gives up on false hope, the better.

Wesley: Unacceptable! You can’t do this—

Travers: Take the keys and GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY OFFICE! Don’t test me, Mr Wyndam-Pryce. Don’t forget, I don’t need a reason to have you arrested too.

Mr Boothe: Come on, sir. This way...

Wesley: ...You won’t get away with this...

The Master hears heavy footsteps entering, then leaving. Likely the Mayor’s armed guards escorting Wesley out.

Soon after, Travers begins another Traverscast address to the public.

Travers: Good afternoon, my fellow Waldonians. As many of you already know, yesterday, a violent group of insurrectionists attempted to overthrow this government, and I was forced to take drastic measures. It was unfortunate, but necessary action — to protect this fair city and the rule of law. I hope those considering similar criminal behaviour will now think twice.

I understand a vocal minority are unhappy about me appointing the Waldobeast as our protector of the realm. Some want justice for the destruction it caused. I hear you. But there’s simply no way to punish the beast without risking further chaos and destruction.

However, I’m pleased to announce that last night, under my orders, we arrested the individual chiefly responsible for creating the beast: Dr Lawrence Fraser of Waldford Heights. Unfortunately, there’s no specific law against accidentally creating destructive beasts. But there is a law against being an illegal immigrant, which Dr Fraser has been for many years.

Under my instruction, Dr Fraser has been detained and will face imminent deportation. I hope that brings some comfort to you all.

Now, I know I can be theatrical — maybe even a little rough—but the one thing I am not is a tyrant. I'm a nice guy. And I love a good party.

So tonight, at 7pm, I’m holding a parade in Widdlington Square. I’ll be dumping £70 million in cash onto the crowd. Don’t worry, it’s my own money. I’ve got plenty. You heard it, folks: £70 million up for grabs. Plus there’ll be entertainment of all kinds. I hope to see you there.

Good day. And Ed bless Waldonia.

A few minutes later, the lock clicks. The drawer is pulled open, flooding the Master’s container with light. Travers lifts the tub of goblin goo onto his desk.

Travers: How are you feeling now, my friend? Thinking any clearer?

Master Devlin: Travers, what’s happened to you? You’ve turned… evil. If your wife could see you now, she’d be ashamed.

Travers: Poppycock. I’m a good goblin—trying to make the best of a difficult situation. You’ll understand in time. And if I’d listened to you, the savages would have torn us apart—including my wife.

Master Devlin: You’ve locked up Dr Fraser so I can’t be cured. Now you’ve locked me up as your pet.

Travers: Yes, well... it's for your own good. You need to move on. Accept your new situation. Besides, I need you. I can’t have you running off and getting distracted. This nation’s in crisis and I’m barely holding it together. It’s all hands on deck. You were threatening to leave. I did what I had to. But you should know Fraser is treating Ermintrude at the detention centre. She’s going to be fine...

Master Devlin: That doesn’t make any of this okay.

Travers: Look, the people demand justice. Dr Fraser has to be the sacrificial lamb. It’s for the good of the nation.

Master Devlin: So you murder innocent people and use Larry as a scapegoat? There’ll be a day of reckoning, Travers. Mark my words.

Travers: Stop saying that! I’ve murdered nobody! I was defending this nation!

The Master throws all his weight forward, tipping the container off the desk. It hits the floor and the lid pops off. The Master lunges, wrapping his tentacles around Travers’ face. Travers screams and struggles, eventually prying the Master off. In the chaos, Travers stumbles and hits his head on the desk, collapsing.

He lies motionless, blood pooling beneath his head.

Ed walks in through the open window, pauses, then bares his teeth in rage.

Ed: What have you done?? You’ve killed him. How could you do this to your best friend, you little jerk?!

Master Devlin: He betrayed me. And he’s not dead. Not unless you make it so. He’ll be fine in half an hour. Then he’ll declare me public enemy number one.

Ed picks up the octopus.

Ed: You’ve been a very naughty little Master...

He casually throws Devlin off the balcony. The Master plummets a thousand feet and splats on the pavement. The goo slides into a nearby drain. In the sewer, he finds Ed waiting, unimpressed.

Ed: Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Master Devlin — reduced to a mere sewer squid. He’s as dirty as Waldo now! Appropriate — for a Frenchman. So, why has the Master started a civil war in my realm?

Master Devlin: He hasn’t. It was you, Edward. It’s always you. I just needed out of the tub.

Ed: Details.

Master Devlin: Then don’t go around being a fucking accuser.

Ed: Whatever. So, what are you going to do now?

Master Devlin: I don’t know. I suppose I should go rescue Larry.

Ed: Fine. Good luck with that.

The Master emerges from a sewer grate outside Wesley Wyndam-Pryce’s house. He slides up the path and tosses some stones at the door. Wesley opens it, looking around in confusion.

Master Devlin: Hey, Wesley... down here.

Wesley: Master Devlin! Are you alright?

The Master flicks a bit of toilet paper off his tentacle.

Master Devlin: As you can see, I’ve had better days...

Wesley: You better come inside. There's something you should see...

They enter the living room. Mayuri sits in her wheelchair, anxious. The TV is on. Travers appears live from St. Waldobury’s University Hospital, now scarred, moustache missing, and face covered in sucker marks.

Travers: ...The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed. My proud moustache—completely obliterated. But I assure you, my resolve has never been stronger.

The violence is over. The hoodlums have been defeated, the insurrection foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning.

To ensure stability, Waldoshire will be reorganised into the First Waldonian Empire, for a safe and secure society, which I assure you will last 7,000 years. An empire ruled by a sovereign ruler, chosen for life. Ruled by the majority. Ruled by a new constitution.

Under the Empire’s New Order, our most cherished beliefs will be safeguarded. We will defend our ideals by force of arms. Let the enemies of the Empire take heed - those who challenge Imperial resolve will be crushed.

We’ve traded war for peace. Anarchy for stability. Thousands now look forward to a secure future.

Imperial citizens must do their part. Join the grand army. Become the eyes of the Empire. Spread the New Order across the realm. Build monuments to our glory. Remember the sacrifice of our brave Imperial Stormtroopers.

The New Order of peace has triumphed over the shadowy secrecy of shameful masters. The course is clear. I will lead the Empire to glories beyond imagination.

We move forward as one people — the citizens of the First Waldonian Empire. We will prevail. Seven thousand years of peace begins today.

Wesley: So this is how liberty dies... with an obliterated moustache...

Season 7 continues in Where Briefcases Dare