It was a dark, abysmal summer day when the aerospace immigration transit shuttle pulled into the ever so busy Station Square dropping off an array of new immigrants looking for a better life in the growing city of Mobius. Refugees from various planets, regions, and countries, businessmen, and the poor who felt welcome into the arms of a friendly city. Of course, not all of those are calling this home in the name of "settling down." For from this very shuttle a lone stranger who was a very flawed human, steps out of the shuttle with suitcase in hand as he goes over to a payphone and makes a call to an old compadre.
"Pick up you fat red-headed Ukranian balding moron."
After hearing a few tones and no answer, our conspicuously scruffy looking friend slams down the phone multiple times nearly breaking the receiver and ends up drawing stares by some of the locals. With a hint of embarrassment he subtley slips into a taxi cab embarking on a trip to the over-sized bunaglow known as Doctor Robotnik's chateau.
"It looks like a frickin' warehouse turned into a crackhouse."
He scratches his brown greasy hair as he steps out of the cab and is greeted by an obese eye soar they call "Doctor Robotnik.
"Antonio, you look like a shriveled dead breast in a creamatorium."
The sicilian spits into Ivo's prized roses and blinks
"You know what? You still look like a fat bloated dead body that washed up on shore after floating around for six months."
With that Doctor Robotnik and his long lost friend gave each other a hug straight from a bad mob movie. They proceeded to head inside. The interior was decorated with chrome walls, portraits of the rotten tomato himself, and various electronic gizmos and broken robotics that are a reflection of Ivo's true failure.
"I know what you're thinking, Antonio. You look at this beaten down old equipment and wondering what keeps me busy toying away at nuts and bolts like a mechanic. This equipment is battered beyond belief, because I let myself fail as an inventor and as an engineer. I mean, cut me a break there's a couple of menaces in this town who go out of their way to put down my devious efforts to take over this. SO.. yeah."
They both walk into an underground layer with walls made out of pure lime stone and lined with row after row of computers, prototype weapons, and even more odd projects that would make any designer jealous.
"Ivo.. I mean, shouldn't you have taken over this danty wanna-be New York by now. What army, political force, or criminal empire could possibly stand in your way. I've been in the United Earth weapon smuggling cartel for years and we've shown more progress in our criminal action than you have in your entire career on this planet. I expected better of you, man"
Doctor Robotnik closes his eyes and grits his teeth at the sound of Antonio's piercing audible blows. He wraps his arm around his left shoulder as the two continue to depart down the long corridor.
"You're not going to believe this, but it's only a small group of fighters that stand in my way. If you met these fighters, you'd be an irritable tyrant as well, you greaseball. Come, I'll explain exactly what I mean."