A little help here?
When: Saturday, Oct. 11
Where: A perfectly ordinary home on Candlestick Maker Street
What: A VERY LARGE EXPLOSION
Who: Dr. Horrible and please would somebody save him?
Rating: PG-13
In town, the ground began to tremble, rattling dishes and plates in their cupboards. Rattling knick-knacks on their shelves. And, in a certain secret basement laboratory, Dr. Horrible looked over from his webcam in sudden alarm as dozens of full beakers, test tubes, and half-constructed experiments began to tremble and clatter.
"That's not a good--" was all he had time to say before the major shock wave hit.
From outside the house, the explosion itself wasn't visible, the BOOM mingling with the crashes and other cacophony of an earthquake tearing up an entire town. But in moments, there was thick smoke pouring out the windows, smoke that was mostly black but also streaked with other colors, smoke that smelled acrid and chemical.
The basement was in ruins. Smoke and fumes choked the air and shattered glass covered every burned and splintered surface. Small fires had sprung up in several places and were spreading, and in others, spilled chemicals ate their way through tabletop and floor, or trickled into others, causing several smaller explosions and more toxic fumes in the air.
The lab's owner was crumpled at the base of the wall where he'd been flung by the force of the blast. His formerly white coat was blackened and spattered with unidentified substances, his goggles cracked and askew on his head, face marked with small cuts and burns, blood in his hair and trickling from the corner of his mouth, tracing a line across his pale cheek to the floor. His clothes had been enough to protect him from most of the glass fragments - except the palm-sized shard that protruded from his side, surrounded by a spreading red stain.
This would not be going in his blog as Dr. Horrible's best day ever.
Where: A perfectly ordinary home on Candlestick Maker Street
What: A VERY LARGE EXPLOSION
Who: Dr. Horrible and please would somebody save him?
Rating: PG-13
In town, the ground began to tremble, rattling dishes and plates in their cupboards. Rattling knick-knacks on their shelves. And, in a certain secret basement laboratory, Dr. Horrible looked over from his webcam in sudden alarm as dozens of full beakers, test tubes, and half-constructed experiments began to tremble and clatter.
"That's not a good--" was all he had time to say before the major shock wave hit.
From outside the house, the explosion itself wasn't visible, the BOOM mingling with the crashes and other cacophony of an earthquake tearing up an entire town. But in moments, there was thick smoke pouring out the windows, smoke that was mostly black but also streaked with other colors, smoke that smelled acrid and chemical.
The basement was in ruins. Smoke and fumes choked the air and shattered glass covered every burned and splintered surface. Small fires had sprung up in several places and were spreading, and in others, spilled chemicals ate their way through tabletop and floor, or trickled into others, causing several smaller explosions and more toxic fumes in the air.
The lab's owner was crumpled at the base of the wall where he'd been flung by the force of the blast. His formerly white coat was blackened and spattered with unidentified substances, his goggles cracked and askew on his head, face marked with small cuts and burns, blood in his hair and trickling from the corner of his mouth, tracing a line across his pale cheek to the floor. His clothes had been enough to protect him from most of the glass fragments - except the palm-sized shard that protruded from his side, surrounded by a spreading red stain.
This would not be going in his blog as Dr. Horrible's best day ever.