The Land of Do-As-You-Please, Part I

[Hunchblack]

Thoughts of an Upcoming Change in Lifestyle:​

As NFW continues to build its roster and forge its reputation as one of the worlds foremost sports entertainment companies, I still haven’t been paid. The best I got was a pre-paid three night stay at a sleazy motel room. You know the type; where hobos come to shave in the reception and where dead hookers are constantly been scraped out of the swimming pool filter... Not that I’m not grateful for the room.​

The company then paid for me to rent out a small house in a local neighbourhood while I got on my feet financially. This came as a welcome change of pace, in that none of my neighbours were raided by police every Wednesday. Such is life in decent society, I told myself.​

I knew I couldn’t function in decent society when my trash can was frowned upon for being the main food source of my kitchen. It seemed the residents of this particular neighbourhood weren’t getting ready to invite me to any barbecues anytime soon. In the neighbourhood watch meetings, my hump stood out like a... ... well, like a hump on the back of a freakishly abnormal black guy, ironically.​

I tried very hard to show some kind of initiative in these meetings, but all my suggestions were met by deliberate silence followed by exclusion from the next round of hot beverages and chocolate cakes. Another welcome change from the cakes that were made by the staff at the motel, in which the secret ingredient would be crime.​

That particular act of heinously unprecedented lack of manners was the final straw, I had to move.​

It was then my attention was drawn to a rather modest advertisement in the newspaper.
The article spoke of a planned community just opened to cater for the socially inept and/or physically abnormal. I must admit that upon the first read it didn’t sound particularly appealing. But then I noticed that they did a free laundry service. This was indeed a community after my own heart, I packed my bags immediately and caught a taxi to the place they called ‘Freakwood Meadows’. I would’ve been inclined to take offense, until I learned the facility was founded by Dr Malcolm Freakwood.​

The logo on the front gate did much to discourage my decision to move here; it featured a man with three heads in a straight jacket, being whipped by a burly man- with three whips.​

My neighbours consisted of social outcasts and people with abnormalities that put mine to shame. This passed under the radar at first due to the excitement of receiving a free selection of body lotions and hump wax (for those who want their hump to look its shiniest). My room was about yay long by yay wide, enough space to live in, but I certainly couldn’t swing a cat in this room, especially not Mittens T.​

Weekly barbecues, poetry readings, arm wrestling; this place had it all. For the first time in my life, I felt accepted and tolerated in my community.​

I received a messenger this morning who tentatively handed me a letter containing information for my first NFW booking.​

My eye (my good eye) scanned down the list of provisional bookings, searching for the name next to ‘Hunchblack’. And there it was; Rook Black.​

My adventure was only now just beginning.​

 

[Legion]

(Fade In: a darkened room is shown with only a candle showing the mere flicker of light which is being held by Legion who is attired differently to when we first saw him... whereas before we saw him in a suit he has become more Gen-X with a leather jacket and pentagram shirt with denim jeans...)

So NFW did exactly as I predicted... not paying the workers they don't deem as socially acceptable or marketable and when they finally do put you in a society they knew would shun you since they can not understand what it's like for us outcasts to try and function into a type of normality when we know we are better than them.

But you fail to realise that even though you seem content now you've met people that are alike to you Freakwood is not what it seems... Does a Nurse Ratchet reside there by chance?.

If so watch out for an Native American Chief crashing a trashcan (poss whilst you are eating from it...) out of a window followed by a lobotomy and frequent study of the abnormality that resides on your back.

This is why I made the offer for you... I can help you find the truth, no longer after the interview will you be deemed an outcast, We can save you...

The Dance of the Devil's Rejects is coming... For We Are Many
(The candle is blown out as we fade to black followed by the For We Are Many logo...)

 

[Rook Black]

This is not an iteration.

This is also not an etheric broadcast.

It’s a regular kind of promo broadcast.

Rook Black had been writing on the wall.

It was, unfortunately, written in the new language he’d been thinking in, the one that doesn’t broadcast into the Ether.

However, because mysteriousness for it’s own sake reeks of smugness, all that he’d written on the wall was what he was about to say.

Except one thing.

At the very top, where he began, he’d written, “This is the writing on the wall.”

Back in realtime, Rook stared at the camera, and he waited too long to begin before he began.

“He’s lying to you.”

“I don’t know why he’s lying to you. But he is. It’s probably because you have something he wants. Probably related to your hump, since you have one and he doesn’t. I suspect it might be jealousy. Since I’m not a liar, I’ll admit this: I am also jealous of your hump. I am interested in your skeletal structure and would like to see detailed images produced by an x-ray device.”

His eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“There’s a …”

Frowned.

“There’s a problem with communicating, a problem with information attaching itself to thoughts. There’s a problem with the information sliding free of thought and memory. There’s a problem with listening.”

“In here, information is decided by violence. Mostly. Sometimes it’s decided by lies and trickery, but usually violence. When we engage in battle, we usually battle over truths, and the winners truth becomes more true. Usually.”

Breath.

“So, I’m going to assert the following truth. There are people who are afraid of you because they suspect that you have a mind behind your mind, a mind that they cannot touch or influence. They, because they are paranoid and desire control over all things, are terrified of the mind that they can’t touch. They suspect that the mind is contained in your hump, a cluster of innocent seeming nerves that autonomously act in your interest and protect you from them. They want to find you, and take your second mind from you, so that you’ll be a mere mortal again, like everyone else, someone they can control.”

Blinked.

“This may seem difficult to believe. But when I beat you soundly enough, I believe you’ll come to see it my way.”

“Good luck to you.”

 

[Legion]

All we see is the For We Are Many logo and a voiceover...
We saw the attack you committed at the SECC, Rook
You have to learn not to mess with the design of us
It's not Hunch's mind we seek to control, it's the opening of others' eyes towards that of which it rejects
The Sickness of society must be removed first... Rook whilst we only observe and never fight we can find others to do it for us... any takers?