LQJT86C
Where's my money, Chad?
(FADEIN: The body of Castor Strife, the head of a leather long-nosed bird mask. He sits with legs folded in his underwear, below a television screen showing an LA Clippers game rewinding and fast forwarding Chris Paul making a half-court pass, over and over, on repeat)
CASTOR: (V/O) "The road to fame was not a road at all. It was a sticky dead ant trail to the sweet tooth. My head was hacked Anonymously. The NSA catalogued my senses, and they could taste me going hungry. Several years from now, they will talk about my career like the Roman aqueducts. After the fall, the details of my craftsmanship will fade, not to be improved upon for hundreds of years."
"You could spend a lifetime putting the pieces back together."
"The rules are over. Your new sun is hashtag killfucksteal."
"Admit it voyeur, you were watching. There are cameras everywhere."
"Applicants everywhere."
"Hotels and hotels filled with people scared and due for the single-file firing line."
"And when they're gone, I'll be the last to go. Nobody found an answer to me. Stop looking."
"For now, the fame horse is still riding. And I have a year to go. One gallop, three careers ended. Two gallops, your federation dies. Photo snaps, line broken, and all his men couldn't put the kING back together again."
(FADEOUT)