Welcome to Ghostliness & Nerfherders Presents: East of West, Issue #8 – “Three”! In the previous installment, Ezra Orion is all fucked up now because Bel Solomon shot a bullet through the Hell Demon and fused most of it with the bald bastard’s arm and neck. We are treated to a backstory of the Horsemen, in their adult gender-swapped incarnations, destroying a pilgrimage site. A baby is still alive, and Conquest raises him as her own to be the Keeper of the Message (spoiler alert it’s Ezra Orion).

Bad news for Ezra! This fusion of man and beast was foretold in the Message! And not only that, but the message explicitly states that he has to live with it forever! So that sucks. But Conquest is a proud momma now! That must be worth something, right? I mean, you’re an abomination now and you will be for the rest of your days, but hey! Message! High five, bro!

East of West, Issue #8 [December, 2013]
Written by: Jonathan Hickman
“Three”

“Soon all of this will come crumbling down.“

I think I can safely say by now that I have a pretty good handle on the characters, their relationships, and at least some of their motivations. Death is still a mystery to me; why he really defected as a Horseman (because it’s in the Message doesn’t count), and if he’s going to be a major player in trying to stop it for whatever reason. I can only guess! I still have 38 issues to go. And a one-shot. So I’ll stop flappin’ my dang gums.

The White Tower is where we begin Issue #8. Madam President LeVay’s Chief of Staff, Ms. Lux, welcomes her back with open arms! There’s a lot of stuff on the President’s agenda, many appointments to keep and many tasks to finish, yes yes. Let’s see, first there’s the matter of pardoning a goose, and–

“Why is my city on fire?” LeVay asks Lux bluntly, after first sarcastically complimenting Lux’s knack for getting straight to the point. Lux tells her that it’s been this way since the very beginning. Lots of unrest, yes yes. Anyway, the goose is waiting in the royal chambers and–

Thank you for the counsel, Goth Squiggy.

Ahh, fuck it. Yes, it’s bad out there. All the conspiracy rumormongers cannot be calmed down because the rumors are actually true. There’s a bunch of other stuff. Riots, financial problems, corruption. The usual fare. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. Ms. Lux smiles like a creepy harlequin doll. “Why is your city on fire, Madame President? Because the people burn.”

LeVay asks Lux if she knows the difference between an earned position and a given position. Now, I thought I knew where LeVay might have been going with this (performing a ritual good ol’ 2064-style caning on Ms. Lux), but I was wrong! “I am grateful for my position because it was given to me. All I am, I owe to those who put me here. I was chosen, and they have…expectations of me.”

There’s that pesky “chosen” word again. LeVay’s point is that her people need to be taken care of. And by that, she uses the phrase “managing the livestock”. She instructs Ms. Lux to put out the fire by any means necessary.

“And what will rise from the ruin? Nothing. Just as God intended. Just as we deserve.”

So while Ms. Lux spends her time running out to the streets with a flamethrower (I imagine), Death and his buddies finally reach the bottom of the giant spiral stairway under the lake. Nah, just kidding. They’ve been descending spiral stairs, crossing weird random sky bridges that lead to dead ends, and descending more spiral stairs for two days. Wolf thinks they’re lost and that they’re going to die in this hellhole, but Death is persistent that he’s been here before and he knows where they’re going! Keep taking stairs, whiner.

Death and crew cross another sky bridge to another dead end. He presses his hand against the stone wall. “This here’s the right one.” he says with an air of trepidation. Even Crow is skeptical. “Where are we, Death?” she asks. Death, in a rather long-winded manner, tells her that it’s a prison. Some pay a fair price for their sins – retribution. Others get unjustly caught up in the game – fate. This place is where retribution and fate meet, and he knows this because he’s been here before. He helped build it. And it’s the oldest prison in the world.

Death digs up a small hole out of the bridge dirt and plants what might be the same flower Xiaolian was clutching in Issue #3. I only mentioned it once, but it’s possible that Death grabbed it from her on his way out and I didn’t notice! Well, this flower-plantin’ did the trick. Like activating a secret button, the walls start creaking and lifting up all around them.

Shit, I’ve played Ultimate Doom. This is never a good sign.

The walls creak and hiss one last time as it settles, leaving an opening about half of Death’s height. “Stay here,” he instructs his entourage as he crab-walks along the new path, “I don’t want you seein’ this. Got my retribution comin’ my way.” The walls close around him, and he meanders through the pitch black darkness.

Almost pitch black. There’s one square of light shining upon a chained-up naked individual, a person who sees fit to deride Death even given her own sad-sack situation. “I wonder…why are you alone this time? Have you been betrayed? Abandoned?

Death is like “easy there, I ain’t gonna get mad at ya or nuthin’ so cut it out”. This naked lady is Oracle, and below her neck she has all the normal human lady parts, but above her neck she has this creepy, throbbing, glowing, external brain kind of head going on with tentacles coming out of her eye sockets. I’d hit it! Oracle knows Death is here because he lost something. DING DING DING! It’s his son! Death wants to find his son, and he’s willing to make a trade…

Back at the White Tower (1600 New Pennsylvania Ave., next to the white guy with dreadlocks trying to sell knock-off Oakley sunglasses), President LeVay broadcasts a message on some Jumbotrons to a throng of angry, rioting civilians. Her hologram stands in a large force field in front of the crowd, they all pelt the force field with trash as she talks. The people do not like this woman.

Ah, the four symbols of my family crest.

LeVay’s speech brings to attention the shitty economic situation that her predecessors had allowed to perpetuate. As such, she and her staff are working to correct the problem. However, it’s hard. And it won’t happen anytime soon. So, suck it up for now.

The energy rationing implementation is expected to continue indefinitely. Also, new food rationing and furloughs will start happening…uh, tomorrow! So, enjoy!

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE! Don’t even try any further rioting or protests or talking out of turn or jaywalking or cutting tags off of mattresses. Martial law time!

Unrest escalates. The military personnel are overwhelmed by the civilians. Someone throws a Molotov cocktail. Shit is going down, son.

The people do not like this woman.

A montage is shown of all the decapitated motherfuckers in the presidential line of succession. This is a flashback to the Three Active Horsemen’s conversation with LeVay, the one where they deemed her acceptable for ruling the nation. Now we see a more elaborate version of the conversation.

“Perhaps you’re seeking a more meaningful existence. If so, that’s what we’re offering.” says War. “And do you understand what is being offered?” asks Famine. “Do you understand the stakes?” asks Conquest. And yes, LeVay understands. Power and opportunity, and the cost is limitless. The cute little child Horsemen lay out their expectations of her: keep the populace at bay.

“Chaos among the cattle is unacceptable.”
“Control must be absolute and always maintained.”

I will do anything for love, but I won’t do that.

And this lady with the giant hoop earrings must really want this gig, because she’s willing to do what it takes. She’ll do what it takes as long as the Horsekiddies will accept her.

“She’ll do…for now.”

Madame President LeVay gets briefed by her cabinet following the speech. National guardsmen have quarantined hot zones and are attempting to disperse the mobs (poorly). Many people have been killed or arrested already, so that’s pretty good! But things will move faster if we increase the severity of the measures, so let’s throw out some ideas, shall we?

*crickets*

“It all falls to me then.” LeVay concedes, then asks her living Tim Burton fantasy secretary Ms. Lux to prepare transportation down to the ground level. She wants to witness first-hand what’s going on around her before she makes a hard decision. “Let’s see what’s happening to my city.”

At street level, an armored police officer informs LeVay that nobody has determined any definitive leaders among the mob, except perhaps for these four scoundrels that kneel before them. Maybe. LeVay wants to chat with them, so she crouches down to get to their level, so to speak.

“Well…look who’s come down from heaven.” says Hooligan #1 snidely! LeVay tells them coldly that she must play her role, just like they play theirs. She gets called a facist, but she lets that one roll off her back. “I beg you, do not confuse me with the politicians you are used to…I don’t deal in hope.”

LeVay then kindly asks these ruffians what, exactly, they would like her to do about all of this? Perhaps they would like to just go home without another peep and trust that she’ll handle everything in a quick and clean manner? Nope! “You want to buy us? We are not one more thing you can buy and sell for fucking money.” Tough talk from Hooligan #2! “What we want…is to be rid of people like you. Old men and women who think they can tell us how to live our lives…we may be prisoners, but no one owns me.”

Remember when Donald Trump said that he could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue, shoot someone, and not lose any voters? Well, Madame President LeVay takes the armored police officer’s semi-automatic rifle and “busts some gats”, as they say, right into Hooligan #2’s buddies at point blank range.

She’s still the best president America ever had.

“I have been given tasks to complete. One of which is maintaining order…so, some advice since you can’t be bought: Learn to be grateful for what little you have.”

And then she smacks the little bitch across the mug with the butt of the rifle. The kid runs away crying and screaming like a pansy. lmao.

“I have the shot, ma’am…Should I take it?” asks the officer while the kid is already half a football field away.

“Why waste the bullet? Let the word spread.”

Final Thoughts

LeVay is ice cold. She and Chamberlain would really get along. They can do some apocalyptic bonin’.

Once she outlives her usefulness, though, the Horsemen are gonna drop her out of a blimp.