Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. A/N: Written for a prompt by Jamie55. Hey, come on, I'm only a month and a half late...
A/N: Written for a prompt by Jamie55. Hey, come on, I'm only a month and a half late...
The wooden door closed behind him with a bang, and Dr. Horrible shuffled forward into a carpeted room. He let his eyes wander for a moment, then walked to a pale leather couch, settling on it with a sigh. He had several minutes to waste before it was his turn. Already bored, he took a handful of magazines from a table in front of him. He flipped through them, skimming the articles. Hammer, Hammer, Elementia, Hammer, Wingspan, Hammer, Hammer, Bad Horse, Hammer. He tossed the first magazine aside with disgust, instead choosing to look through Villain's Weekly.
He was engrossed in an article about Professor Normal's cybernetic-organism work when he vaguely heard his name being called. With a slight twinge of regret--he was only halfway through--he abandoned the article and stood up to shake the hand of the man in front of him.
"William Timbre. Call me William," the man said flatly, by way of introduction.
He replied in turn, just as simply. "Doctor Horrible."
Horrible followed the man into what he originally thought was an office. There was a mahogany desk and two fold-up chairs as well as a plush, high-backed chair that was not unlike Dr. Horrible's own. The room was, however, covered with soundproof tiles, and had a keyboard and several microphones scattered about. He noticed a poster decorated with musical notation.
Timbre cleared his throat and Horrible remembered himself, pulling a wad of (obviously stolen) money out of his pocket. It was a lot, really, but this was definitely worth the hefty price tag. Timbre took it without batting an eye, counting out the hundreds. When he was satisfied, he motioned to the supervillain to sit down. Horrible did so, watching Timbre do the same.
Timbre stuck the money in a desk drawer, then leaned forward. His eyes bore into Horrible's and his fingers steepled. Suddenly self-consious, Horrible gulped soundlessly. Timber's expression was serious as he spoke.
"So," Timbre said. "You want to learn how to laugh."
And the lesson began.