The Legend Of Dr. Money

In a dimension known as 'The Veritas', there existed a divine law and order that kept the dimension's universe and world functional. Everything moved to the beat of the will of the Gods and Goddesses of the Veritas, who established the laws and kept the order.

However, there was one particular land in the Veritas where there was no law... There were no rules. There was no order, save for cutthroat roguery. This land was known altogether as 'Valparaiso, The Lawless Land'. In Valparaiso, the residents that took to it as home were commonly known as 'Valparaiso Denizens', or 'Lawless Ones'. They did everything under the sun that was unlawful from steal to kill... And everything in between. That was how this nigh barren wasteland of the Veritas functioned, and it was so that those who did not wish to follow law and order could do as they pleased, no matter how bad for the land it was.

Formerly residing in 'Valhalla, City Of Ruin', the Valparaiso Denizens were thoroughly removed by machines known as 'Mechanica' sent by the Veritas' mainland to gentrify the city. That said and done, the Valparaiso Denizens were expelled from their home and out into the bloody wastelands beyond the singular city of Valhalla in the Lawless Land, which was known as 'Rue, The Warrior's Wasteland'. It was where they settled all of their disputes with each other in the most brutal and violent fashions until someone was dead. This wasteland that the Lawless Ones were now cast out into was their new home.

The Valparaiso Denizens were tired. The Godfather of the Veritas and the Lawless Land -- known formally as The Tyranophant -- had already kicked their asses to high hell and back with his Godly powers against their crotchety power of darkness they'd stolen from the daughter of the Dark One. Now they were ass out on the streets having to deal with the Mechanica all of the time, which were a bunch of machines more ruthless than they were. At least, about their order and protocol.

But there was no order or no protocol in the Lawless Lands. That's how it was and that's how everybody liked it.

At least, all the Valparaiso Denizens.

They'd tried fleeing to the 'Olde Witch City' and came up with squat, being either seduced to death by the Witches that lived there or being homeless BECAUSE of the Witches, or even worse... Having all of their energy drained from them until they were nothingness. They'd seen Fred go. That's how he went -- sucked all the juice right out of him.

Somehow, Hobo Joe was still alive and among the survivors of the Valparaiso Denizens. No one knows how the hell that bastard kept himself alive all these years, even BEFORE the great gentrification done by the Mechanica. Sure, the Valparaiso Denizens could live in the shadows and the darkness and abide by the rule of fear about the Mechanica, but that just wouldn't be living for them. They needed to be free to do as they pleased, even if what they pleased was more than indecent. They were still people.

Finally, an older, more finely dressed man said, "This ain't gonna cut it," as he looked out into the empty, barren plains of Rue, the Warrior's Wasteland. "We ain't gonna die out here like these chumps whose blood-land we walk on!" But, being thugs and bums and other types of lowlifes or bottom feeders, the Valparaiso Denizens knew next to nothing about MAKING a city. Only OCCUPYING one. Even the once wealthy business tycoons that were corrupt living in the city were out on their asses, unable to provide for themselves and unaware of how to start from the bottom... Since all of their gain was ill-gotten.

Yessir, it was a bad situation for the Valparaiso Denizens, but... They'd seen worse. From their own kind. Then again, reviewing the scenario... Maybe they hadn't.

???: "Heh Heh Heh... Ass Out, Is Ya?"

A familiar, yet also unfamiliar voice spoke out to the bunch of Lawless Ones from the distance, pulling up on them in the gaudiest limousine made of pure platinum, with wheels of diamonds and extending so far across the land, it would seem to be able to fit each and every one of them in its interior. Granted, this was a vast exaggeration, but that's what it was like for the one, the only...

He stepped out of the back door of the beautifully stylish vehicle, gatorskin shoes polished and shining brighter than the diamonds on the wheels of the limo, itself. His pants, made of bills, bills, bills, stacked up high around his thigh and with so many zeros on them one would think them to be from the 'Zero World', itself.

Before his face was seen, his shining cane of pure gold with a golden serpent wrapped around it and the image of a pyramid at its orb would touch the ground, escorting the flashy man wearing a money green sports jacket with a dollar sign zipper adorned upon it out and into view. It was none other than...

Dr. Money!!!

Dr. Money: "Don't Cry, Chirrens! I Got Whatcha Need Right Chyeah!!"

He flashed a few billions of dollars before their eyes and smoothed back his lush, slicked brown hair, eyes literally having dollar sign pupils.

Dr. Money: "That Is... If You're Lookin' To Listen To A Certain Tale I Have..."

Dr. Money's dollar sign eyes blinked with a noise that sounded like a cash register every single time, sparkles flying from them as he gazed at his poor, unfortunate souls before him.

The older gentleman that seemed to be the voice of the Valparaiso Denizens spoke up and stood out immediately. "Yeah?" he said, eyes fixed on the cash money before him, "And what might that be?" He sounded skeptical. Paying someone to listen to a story? Why, that was outright outrageous. Who would pay that much money for a simple story with no strings attached?

But Dr. Money was a benevolent -- though grandiose -- soul, and he did take pity on the Lawless Ones. "This Story," he began, taking out a small black notebook with something written inside of it, "Is The Story Of How I Became Dr. Money." He made exaggerated faces of 'Oos' and 'Ahs' by himself, hyping himself up where the Valparaiso Denizens merely gazed at the fat mass of cash before their eyes.

"You See, I Was Once A Small Boy With A Mission," Dr. Money began, tapping his cane on the ground, the gold upon it shimmering in the light as he read from the small black notebook, "And That Glorious Mission Is What Brought Me Here Today With All That You See Here, Earned Straight From The Profits Of The Veritas." He flashed his prize-winning smile, which sparkled like his dollar sign eyes, and continued, "There Were Many People Who Were Against The Veritas' Creation When I Made This Dimension, But Those People Found That My Determination Was A Bit More Fervent Than Their Disposition." Dr. Money suddenly snapped the black book closed and handed it to the somewhat finely dressed gentleman, who immediately examined it.

"Hwa...?!" The man was shocked and disturbed at what he saw, flipping through pages vivaciously as his eyes skimmed over each one. "This is a HIT LIST for DEBT COLLECTION from BOUNTY HUNTING!!"

Dr. Money: "Right-O, Chap! There Were Some People That Got In My Way And The Bounty On Their Heads Was So Great That I Just Had To Write Down Who And How Much."

Dr. Money withdrew his black book and stated, "Consider That A Written Warning," with a cash money smirk on his face. "Just In Case I Need To 'Repossess' All Of This Cash I'm About To Bestow Upon You." Dr. Money took no hesitation to leave the money right where it was and enter his limousine again, rolling down the window and winking with a 'Cha-Ching!' sound before pulling off and riding into the distance -- into the light.

And that is the story of Dr. Money, who earned his doctorate in money by taking out those people that stood in the way of his dreams of creating and profiting from the Veritas... Which he did. To this day, Dr. Money profits from the Veritas Dimension and all the Universe's aspects, down to the very last planet that exists within.