A Broken Record.
A man looks around a record shop, looking for some of the old hits on vinyl.
He passes right by the newest presses, heading straight to the retro section of the store.
And, after some foraging around, he happens upon the perfect record.
Needless to say, he is ecstatic at the find.
After all, a record that’s been cared for well enough can easily last up to a century.
That makes a treasure trove like this such a commodity to a connoisseur.
He pays the shop kindly, and heads home eager to give it a spin.
He sets up his turntable, placing the record carefully upon the platter.
He moves the tonearm, cueing up the needle precisely where it needs to rest upon the record’s grooves.
After a brief moment of silent humming, the music he’s been looking forward to begins to play.
Pleased as punch, the man takes a seat to enjoy the sweet, sweet sounds of yesteryear.
And that’s when his nightmare begins.
The record skips.
Leaping from his seat, the man rushes to the player, bringing it to a stop carefully to inspect his treasure.
Upon further inspection, he sees a bit of grime and a sizable scratch along the record.
This makes the man distraught, for he does not have the materials or tools to fix it.
And without that, this record will never play as intended.
So angry is he at this revelation, that the man yanks the record off the platter without the same level of care…and breaks it entirely.
One look at The Generation Kid reveals that he is such a treasure trove of his time.
All the old hits, on one lovely vinyl.
A record that has seen his fair share of play upon arriving in the Slaughterhouse.
And no one that has been in this place leaves without a scratch or two.
They certainly don’t stay perfectly clean forever.
Not even you, TGK.
If I had to guess, I’d say your scratches started forming when you got kidnapped by Vayikra.
When they tried to convert you to their cause.
But the grime got on you the moment you got yourself wrapped up in the affairs of The Rainbow Party.
Slowly settling into every groove of your being.
Making you weak.
And as I examine you more closely, I can see every bit of filth.
I see that big ol’ crack.
But it doesn’t make me mad, not by a long shot.
And I think you know why.
Because all this damage you’ve suffered is irreparable.
No one has the tools to help fix what’s broken.
Not you, not your Rainbow Party friends, not even Zero.
All they can do is watch as I take the precious little record that is The Generation Kid…and break it entirely.
I will take what is rightfully mine, a chance to obtain what belongs to me.
And everyone you ever trusted will have to pick up the scattered pieces that remain of your body.