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Chime & MDK - Arcade Dwellers

by MDK (Morgan David King)

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The Smooth Room – an odd name, considering its extremely rough reputation. Hidden in the dankest, darkest corner of the Crusty Trumpet’s wine cellar, this dilapidated dungeon of aural agony was the back-to-back-to-back reigning champion of Smooth News’ “INTERGALACTIC CHAMBER OF ULTIMATE PAIN” (ICUP) award. It was the last place any fan of legitimate music would want to visit, and unfortunately for Dumbledalf the Disappointing, it was precisely where he found himself to be.

...because what good piece of fiction doesn’t pointlessly skip around its own timeline?


“Okay so, there’s these two guys, right? One’s wearing glasses and the other…isn’t. That’s like totally a super important detail, so write it down” demanded Dumbledalf, seemingly unphased by the fact that he was handcuffed to a venerable, velvet chair and about to experience a rather unpleasant interrogation. In front of the captured conjurer were two of Smooth Jazz’s crooked, corsair cronies. They’d been instructed by their leader to “take the old man to the Smooth Room and figure out what he knows - bonus points for creativity!” but were quickly growing tired of Dumbledalf’s colourful stories. As the wizard’s tale became more exaggerated, so did his accompanying hand gestures and sound effects.

“They walk up to this really real arcade machine and start to play this game called uhh…Press Start? And then there’s like some crazy glitch on the screen and then fzzrrtt! skaDOOOOSH!”, screamed the old man as he mimed a gigantic explosion. “So, they get sucked into the machine and are face to face with this evil, robo-monkey sonofabitch. Ten stories tall I tell ya, flinging flaming barrels like yesterday’s feces—”

“Okay enough. There’s no way that’s the prophecy the boss is after” one of the crusty captors Chime’d in, interrupting Dumbledalf’s suspicious story. “Sucked into an arcade machine? A robotic gorilla? Just how dumb do you think we are?”

“Man, are you sure?” whispered the second soldier, intently scratching the top of his head. “I was pretty into it, maybe we should li—"


“The boss doesn’t care if we enjoy the story, you dolt! We’re here to figure out what that blasted Warrior of Wubstep and that psycho bird demon are plotting.”

Coming incredibly close to cracking up as the creepy cohorts continued to quarrel, Dumbledalf let out a snicker before cranking his elaborate story up another notch.

“Oh drat, you totally got me!” He feigned, pointing to the first corsair. “I guess you’ll be bragging to Mr. Moustache Man over dinner tonight, hey? Regaling the tale of how you outwitted Dumbledalf the Disappointing with your incredible interrogation skills. Bravo!”

“That’s better!” barked the corsair, with a newfound air of confidence. “Now, tell us the REAL prophecy, or we’re gonna have to bring out…The Smoothinator™.”

“Okay okay, so one of the guys has brown hair, but the other one has slightly browner-er hair. Got it? Now everything up until the arcade machine was totally true, except they weren’t fighting a gorilla, they were attacked by an army of uhh…spooky…snake…dragon…ghosts! Oooooo, so scary righ—"

“You just don’t ever stop, do you?” sighed the first corsair. He pointed at the far wall while chirping an order at his companion. “Okay, screw this. Go flip that switch and then…well, just make sure your ears are plugged”

A loud mechanical clicking filled the room as a rickety trapdoor in the ceiling above slid open. A terribly twisted brass tube emerged, and slowly descended until the opening of the instrument was positioned just inches from Dumbledalf’s head. The wizard gulped, visibly nervous for the first time since his arrival in the Smooth Room. A low rumble began to emanate from the device; a disastrously dissonant drone that reverberated around the room, relentlessly unresolved. The shackled sorcerer groaned in discomfort as the drone evolved into a roar, and a bead of sweat appeared on Dumbledalf’s brow. Mustering up the last of his strength, he stared his captors in their beady orange eyes and screamed “IS THAT THE BEST YOU JAZZ-BLASTING-JERKS CAN DO? COME AT ME, BRO!”

To be continued…


released December 3, 2021


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MDK (Morgan David King) Vancouver, British Columbia

Morgan David King (MDK) is a 31-year-old electronic music producer hailing from Vancouver, Canada. He enjoys long walks on the beach, and making weird-ass music for y'all to jam out to.

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