The Fear Hunter
(CUE UP: "Doomsdayer's Holiday" by Grails.)
(We fade in from black on the image of longtime EPW field reporter, Kenny Lombardo, standing in the middle of a large, decrepit chamber. It's clear he's feeling neither comfortable nor fully secure in these settings, which could have at one time been a warehouse or a stockroom, but now stands as a decaying shell of a building. Oddly, a plain wooden table with two chairs furnishes the very center of the room.)
Kenny Lombardo
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen... Kenny Lombardo here, and no doubt you're wondering what I'm doing in a place such as this. I'm kinda wondering that myself...
Truth is, I'm here to interview somebody, and I was told I'd meet him here at this time. Of course, judging by these surroundings, you could easily assume that I'm speaking of none other than the veteran high-flying daredevil and self-proclaimed "Escape Artist" of Empire Pro... the man formerly known as Dopesmoker, but now only known as the insidious REZIN.
(The sound of footsteps approaching cues the reporter to look off camera.)
Kenny Lombardo
Well... speak of the Devil...
(The camera follows his gaze, and the Devil himself is standing there, grinning like the goat bastard he is. REZIN is in the same pants and duster combo. In one hand is his noxious resin-bong, and in the other is a crumpled paper bag.)
Rezin
Whassup, Kenny? Been a while, bro.
Kenny Lombardo
Good evening, Rezin... you're LATE.
Rezin
Are you sure you aren't EARLY?
(Lombardo checks his watch, looking rather exasperated.)
Kenny Lombardo
No... you told me to meet you here at eight o'clock... and now it's TEN!
Rezin
Hey, man... it's eight o'clock somewhere else in the world. What the f*ck do you want me to say? I had to get some things last minute, and I got caught up.
Not that time matters anyhow. Time is relative. I mean, look at this place...
(He holds out his hands, looking up to the rusted metal rafters and porous sheet-metal ceiling.)
Rezin
Some time ago, we can be sure that this place once served a purpose. There was once a time where it was maintained and inhabited by its sentient makers. But time caught up with it. Once it was something special, and now it's nothing...
Just like everything else in this world...
Just like ME...
(Rezin approaches the table. As he does, Lombardo casts a suspicious eye on the bag in his hand. It's not like your typical hobo with a Colt 45 brown paper bag like they give you at late night convenience stores. It's more like that damp, dark paper bag that you get when you need to get something really hard to find late at night.)
Kenny Lombardo
So what are these "things" that were so important for you to get that it kept me and my crew waiting for over two hours?
(Rezin reaches in the bag and pulls out a long, thin piece of cloth. Almost like a ribbon. It's blood red.)
Rezin
Oh, just a few visual aides for this interview we're about to do. Now, if you could just put this on...
Kenny Lombardo
...what?! No way!
(Rezin reaches into the bag again and pulls out another piece of cloth just like it. He wraps it around his head like a bandana.)
Rezin
Come on, Kenny... don't p*ss out of me now. Bossman's expecting you to deliver a one-on-one chat, so just put it on and play along. Help me complete the vision, will you?
Kenny Lombardo
Oh, jeez...
(Reluctantly, Kenny picks up his own bandana and wraps it around his head. He seems repulsed, probably wondering where it's been and thinking he should probably get checked for lice later. He notices Rezin taking a seat in one of the chairs, and the reporter promptly takes his own place at the other end of the table. The camera gets both men centered in the shot, and Kenny continues.)
Kenny Lombardo
What's going on here, Rezin?
(He doesn't answer the question right away. Instead, he grabs the bottom of the bag and lets the last item drop out into the middle of the table with a heavy thud. The sight of a six-barrel revolver in the dim, waning light causes Kenny to jump up out of his chair.)
Kenny Lombardo
OH MY GOD, HE'S GOT A GUN!!
Rezin
Relax, Kenny...
Kenny Lombardo
CALL THE POLICE, HE'S GONE POSTAL THIS TIME!!
Rezin
Kenny... have a seat. Look...
(Rezin picks up the revolver and opens it to show all six chambers are empty.)
Rezin
It's not even loaded. Well... not right now, anyway. Now sit down and let's get this thing started.
Kenny Lombardo
I'm not starting ANYTHING until you get that gun out of here! Are you CRAZY?!
Rezin
Heh, maybe... but you see, Kenny, this is a part of the vision as well.
Kenny Lombardo
I don't care! I don't trust you with any weapon, loaded or regardless!
Rezin
...weapon? You think this here is a WEAPON?
Let me show you what a REAL weapon looks like, Kenny...
("The Escape Artist" takes a handful of his pants to yank his leg up onto the table, pulling the cuff up past his foot and baring the business-end of his dreadful heel.)
Rezin
THAT'S a weapon right there, Kenny!
You heard of the unbreakable swords made of Damascus steel? Well this sh*t right here is Damascus
HEEL... and unless you want to conduct this entire interview slumped unconscious in that chair from the Mach 3 Turbo force of THIS going right into your g*ddamn face, I suggest you sit the f*ck down, shut the f*ck up, and listen to what I have to say?
(The camera gets a close-up of Kenny's face as he fully realizes the grim reality of a spinning heel kick to the face. Timidly, he returns to the table and takes his seat. Meanwhile, Rezin picks the revolver up and takes something from the pocket of his coat... it looks like a bullet, but not quite.)
Kenny Lombardo
And what's THAT?
Rezin
Oh, just a harmless paint pellet. Won't even break the skin... I mean, unless you shoot from point blank...
Kenny Lombardo
Oh, I think I get it now. Russian Roulette is coming... and it just so happens that's the game we're playing.
Rezin
That's right, Kenny... that's EXACLTY right. I knew you were always smarter than the rest...
See, I figured it was high time I reminded all those stupid, sheltered, idealistic assh*les out there just where this Pay Per View got its namesake.
Kenny Lombardo
Well, Russian Roulette is indeed the name of the Pay Per View... but I always thought the title alluded to taking risks and uncertain outcomes. Is it really necessary to delve into it really more than that?
Rezin
Probably not, but we're going to do it anyway... because I said so.
See, Russian Roulette is not just a game made up by Ivan's drunken forefathers. It's a metaphor of life itself. Every day we wake up, we put an invisible bullet into the chamber of an invisible gun, hold it to our head, and pull the trigger. Many times, nothing happens. But sometimes...
(The morbid and sickening grin spreads across his face.)
Rezin
Sometimes, playing the game of chance bites you in the ass... and all that's left is despair, defeat, and disappointment.
(Kenny shakes his head as the goat bastard chuckles to himself.)
Kenny Lombardo
"Despair, defeat, and disappointment", so you say... and yet you're somehow amused by that?
Rezin
No, Kenny... what amuses me is how everybody in this federation continues to IGNORE it.
Nobody believes the invisible hand of fate could EVER interfere in their ideal and perfect little lives. They think as long as they stick to their wholesome, one-dimensional values, nothing could possibly go wrong.
Well they THOUGHT wrong... and I'm here to show them just how wrong they were all along.
(He gives the chamber a whirl, letting the game of chance decide where it stops.)
Rezin
The wheel of fate keeps on turning throughout the passage of time... and if you're not careful, it will come back to haunt you.
Just look at Cameron Cruise and Copycat. Two years ago, when they were a part of the Anthology, those assh*les thought nothing could touch them. Every time they were booked in a match against the Fallen, they'd treat it as nothing less than a guaranteed win. They brought such shame to the name "Erik Black" that I was forced to kick it to the curb in an effort to disassociate myself with that embarrassing period of time where that moron Dopesmoker was in control.
(He sets the revolver onto the table again, in front of the reporter.)
Rezin
Here you go.. you first.
Kenny Lombardo
Uhh... do I have to? Looks like it could really hurt...
Rezin
The worst that could possibly happen is half your head gets covered in paint and you wake up tomorrow with a splitting headache. That's not even half as bad as what I'm going to do to you if you keep f*cking stalling...
Kenny Lombardo
Oh, jeez...
(Beads of sweat break out on the reporter's brow as he reluctantly reaches out and touches the gun. He draws his hand back after the first moment of contact as if it was hot to touch, but then picks it up, pulls back on the hammer, and holds it in the proper position against his temple. Rezin watches him all the while, the evil smile not leaving his face.)
Rezin
Anyway, as I was saying... time has finally caught up to the likes of Cameron Cruise and Copycat. Now, two years later, Cat's got his OWN tongue, and Cruise now realizes he'll never be the great wrestler he sees himself as by simply surrounding himself with other talent. The tables have turned... and what's left for their careers now?
(Kenny says a quiet prayer to himself, shuts his eyes, holds his breath, and pulls the trigger...)
(SFX: *Click...*)
Rezin
NOTHING.
(Lombardo lets out a sigh of relief as he quickly sets the revolver down, sliding it to Rezin. The Escape Artist quite casually picks it up and repeats the process, loading up the next chamber.)
Kenny Lombardo
Nothing's left for them? Do you say that because you just beat them in the ring?
Rezin
There's been nothing to their careers for a long time, Kenny. I just made it more obvious back there at Aggression.
I mean, don't you think it's a little coincidental that Cameron Cruise is suddenly M-I-A? Or is it just that the realization that he was overcome by Empire Pro's most notrious bottom-feeder was just too harsh of a reality check? One that he JUST... doesn't like?
(Rezin chuckles, pulling back the hammer and squeezing the trigger.)
(SFX: *Click...*)
(He grins like a madman.)
Rezin
Two down, four to go, Kenny...
(He slides the revolver back to Lombardo, and worry once again fills the reporter's eyes.)
Rezin
I don't really know the truth, but what I DO know is that makes THREE talents I've sent into early retirement over three consecutive shows.
Kenny Lombardo
Even though we haven't heard anything from him yet, I'm not sure if Cameron Cruise is officially retired as the result of a single loss...
Rezin
Well then, maybe he can go back to Canada to cut promos about how much greater he is than people he's never beat. F*cked if I knew, and f*cked if I cared...
As for me, I'm moving on. The uncompromising drift of a godless and indifferent cosmos has put me on a path of absolute destruction, and Dan Ryan's glorious Empire stands in my way. Wherever I go, the body count keeps rising while the world keeps antagonizing.
Kenny Lombardo
How poetic... I would be correct to assume, then, that you're continuing your insane master plan to bring down the federation by vacating all of its championship gold?
Rezin
That's right, Kenny. One by one, I'll cripple the champions... I'll destroy the belts... and this illustrious federation everybody holds dear will be no more.
Now come on, you're up...
Kenny Lombardo
Oh man... oh jeez...
(Kenny is visibly trembling now as he picks up the revolver again. Once again, he squeezes his eye shut and bares his gritting teeth. From somewhere deep inside him, a whining sound is being made. Finally, he braces himself for an earful of paint and pain and pulls the trigger.)
(SFX: *Click...*)
Kenny Lombardo
Oh THANK YOU, God...
(Kenny wipes the sweat from his forehead as he quickly gives the gun back to the goat bastard sneering at him from across the table. Rezin looks amused by his panicked reactions.)
Rezin
Halfway there, Kenny... hang with me, you're doing fine.
Kenny Lombardo
Whoof... whatever say.
Anyway, if its the belts you're still going after, then tell us what you think about Copycat moving on from a loss at Aggression to compete against the Intercontinental Champion, Impulse, at the Pay Per View? Do you think maybe you deserved that spot since you were the man to walk away from that match the decisive winner?
Rezin
In a just and idealistic world, maybe... but we don't live in such a world. Liars, despots, and phonies surround us, and they do everything they can to protect themselves.
Dan Ryan isn't stupid. He's not going to feed his dog with his own fat and over-priviledged offspring... and likewise, he's not going to feed the most destructive and apocalyptic force this federation's ever SEEN his prized and pristine champions. I imagine it will be some time before I worm my way into a title shot... but I've got all the time in the world, and he won't be able to hold out much longer the way I keep sending his overpaid talent into the infirmary night after night.
(Kenny watches eagerly as Rezin pulls back the hammer and non-chalantly puts the gun to his head. He knows at this point it's two to one in his favor that the next bullet is the single paint decoy put into it earlier. There is no fear on Rezin's face as he pulls the trigger...)
(SFX: *Click...*)
(Lombardo grimaces, and the sneering grin reappears on Rezin's face as he lowers the gun and slides it across the table once again.)
Rezin
Oh buddy, it's gettin' down to brass tacks now.
Kenny Lombardo
Okay, okay... so then, what are your thoughts on being booked to compete against Mr. Sunshine at Russian Roulette?
Rezin
My thoughts? You couldn't possibly handle the knowledge of what goes on my damned mind, Kenny...
Kenny Lombardo
I'll take your word for it, but don't you think this match-up is a bit interesting?
Rezin
How's that?
Kenny Lombardo
Well, you know... given that the both of you have recently adopted newer, more unhinged alter egos, some would draw similarities in your personalities. Some are saying this will be the fight that determines who the craziest and most violent man in EPW really is.
Rezin
I don't really see any similarities myself, Kenny. When I look at the man once known as Rich Franklin, I see a man living in his own messed-up reality. Now he wants to be "Mr. Sunshine"... the beacon of hope, happiness, and the fulfillment of life.
I don't live in that reality, Kenny. I live in a world that is very much real, but also very much unseen by those who don't have the heart or the mental capacity to see that sewers run beneath the streets, and scum lingers in every nook, cranny, and corner where man dare not tread.
There IS no, Sunshine, Kenny... just filth... sh*t...
REZIN...
(He grins again as he looks to the gun, pausing until the reporter picks it up and very slowly pulls back the hammer. It's a fifty-fifty chance at this point. He is completely white as a ghost now, his wan face rivaling even Rezin's own ashy complexion. Even so, motivated by the fear of whatever might happen if he refuses to go through with this, he brings the gun up to his head.)
Kenny Lombardo
Oh, lord in heaven...
(Ever so slowly, he pulls the trigger...)
(SFX: *Click...*)
(Kenny's eyes pop open in surprise, and despite himself, he can't withold showing a relieved smile.)
Kenny Lombardo
HA HA!! I MADE IT!!
(He sets down the revolver, five chambers empty, the next all but certain to contain the paint pellet. Kenny recomposes himself when sees that Rezin is no longer smiling. Grimly, he lights up his mini-blowtorch and takes a hit off the resin bong. The fit of coughing that follows is long, but eventually subsides.)
Rezin
Anyway, people can see this match how they want... it's obvious to me that Bossman's trying to thin the crazies out of his asylum by setting them on each other. What do you think, Kenny?
Kenny Lombardo
I, uh... I think I need a change of pants.
Rezin
It's cool... happens to the best of us.
I don't give a sh*t about Dan Ryan or his intentions, Kenny. He's more focused on ridding his federation of another lunatic and unstable eyesore. The cosmos has already set the destruction of Empire Pro in motion... and sooner or later, whether it takes a few weeks or a few years, that destruction will finally come at my black-stained hands.
(Kenny can't help but scoff and roll his eyes. An arrogant note fills his voice, probably invigorated by his success in the game of chance.)
Kenny Lombardo
Whatever you say... but hey, speaking of bad things to come, isn't it YOUR turn?
(Knowing full well that a player must see a game all the way to the end, the Escape Artist picks the gun up. An astute viewer would note that he's been doing this with his left hand... a peculiar sight, given that Erik Black has always been right-handed. With a sneer crossing his face, he lifts the gun to his head and pulls the hammer back.)
Rezin
You can mock me now, Kenny... just like everybody else... but it won't stop the doom that awaits us all.
Kenny Lombardo
Talk all you want, but even you have to admit that even you are just as powerless to the doom that awaits YOU, "Rezin"...
Rezin
You're right, Kenny... I AM powerless.
(The barrel of the gun suddenly moves from his temple to Kenny's chest. Lombardo assumes the deer in headlights expression and holds up his hands. Rezin's insane grin reappears.)
Rezin
But I'm also f*cking CRAZY!
(Frozen in fear, Kenny looks in horror as Rezin pulls the trigger.)
(SFX: *BANG!!*)
Kenny Lombardo
OH GAWD, YOU SHOT ME, YOU F*CKING GOAT BASTARD!!
(A blue splatter of paint appears on the reporter's chest as he clutches at the point of impact in pain. As he struggles to breath, a shadow falls over him...)
(SFX: *SMACK~!!*)
(...and he flails backwards out of the chair and lands into a heap as Rezin's heel swings into his face with the force of a million megatons. Looking down at the wounded reporter, the Escape Artist throws his head back and cackles like a hellion.)
Rezin
HA-HA... HA-HA-HAHAHAHAHA!!!
(When he's finished, his head suddenly jerks over his shoulder, taking notice of the camera. The guy holding it can't help but nervously back up a few steps.)
Camera Man (O/C)
Oh SH*T!
(Rezin's attention suddenly goes above him, and he reaches up to grab the boom mic looming above the shot, causing it to feed back. The grip tries to keep ahold, but quickly lets go. Rezin begins recklessly flailing the mic around like a warstaff, prompting the camera man to just drop the camera and hit the road.)
Camera Man
Come on, man, this guy's f*cking batsh*t! Grab him and let's get the hell out of here!
(The canted angled of the camera shows Kenny's camera crew peeling the unconscious reporter off the floor and dragging him away. Rezin's heel, still glistening with Lombardo's slobber, steps into the shot. The view shifts as he picks the camera up and holds it up to his nasty and whiskered face. He strips the aviators off to reveal horribly reddened eyes.)
Rezin
MISTER SUNSHINE... make no mistake about it... I'm the sickest, craziest, self-destructingest son of c*nt that's ever lit up the Empire Pro ring, and I'm gonna be the one to burn it down!
Think you can stop me...?
(He chuckles at the very thought.)
Rezin
The last three that have tried have failed...
We won't be playing games come Russian Roulette when I step into that ring and KICK YOUR F*CKING FACE OFF... MOONSAULT YOU through F*CKING TABLE... and RIP OUT YOUR F*CKING TEETH with the COTTONMOUTH! Mark my words, life ain't gonna be all that SUNNY once I've turned your entire world into a black and bottomless SH*THOLE!
(He snorts and spits something thick and inhumanly black into the camera lens, blotting out our vision. Soon after, the shot goes to static as he drops the camera to the floor. The music rides out as we fade to black.)