Post by Dave Rydell on Dec 7, 2014 21:06:57 GMT -5
Outside PMN headquarters, Red Fusion walks in the door. He walks right past reception and down the hall to Eden’s office. He opens the door and walks right in, seeing Eden behind the desk, Vain on the couch and Zane in a chair near the desk.
Red: You two, out now.
Both Zane and Alan look at Eden, and she nods. As they exit, Red slams the door shut. He turns right around and puts his hands on her desk and she leans back in the chair.
Red: Where the hell do you get off doing that? That was utter bullshit! You practically left me out there on my own.
Eden: Carl is the head of security for a reason.
Red: I don’t give a fuck about Carl! Dammit, Eden, we are a team. If this is how I’m going to be treated being a part of this company, then you can go fuck yourself. I signed up for this because it was best for business. If that’s what you are all about, like you claim to be, you wouldn’t have fed me to the Goddamn slaughterhouse! You know what I think?
Eden nods with curiosity as Red steps back from the desk.
Red: This is about me being the Cross Hemisphere Champion. I did what I had to do to get what I wanted. And you’re scared. You’re scared that when someone has a mission, they will achieve it. You’re scared of Sharpe. You’re scared that Vain won’t win at Horizons. You’re scared that everything you’ve done here, everything you’ve achieved, stolen, earned… Will be all for nothing. You’re scared that everything is going to crumble beneath your feet and you’ll be left with nothing.
Red pauses for a moment, pacing back and forth. He stops, and turns right to Eden.
Red: I should have seen this from a mile away. The lies, deception. Everything you fed Travis.
Eden: His name is Trevor.
Red: Oh shut up. His name is Travis fucking Pierce. And to be quite honest, he’s going to wipe the floor with you. Everything you’ve done here, is all for nothing. Everything you have worked for, will crash and burn, just like you will.
Eden: Anything else?
Red: As much as I loathe everyone in the group, I hope the DMW gets their hands on you. You have it coming.
Before Eden can say anything, Red storms out of the office, slamming the door behind him. She just sits back, calm, and smirks just enough. Out in the hallway, Zane and Alan are standing a bit down towards reception. Red walks right up to Alan.
Alan: Can I help you?
Red: By the time I’m through with you, the only job you’ll be able to get is at the front desk, and that’s if Travis will even allow it.
Red walks off and exits the building. End.
______________________________
There are those who go about each and every day, content with where they are in life. None of them are too excited to get out there and jump at a chance at fame. No recognition for anything outstanding. Then there are some who want the world to know who they are. To know what they are capable of. Many people decide they want nothing but good in the world. Others, want to push their evil and sadistic ways upon the world. I say, to each their own. Everyone should leave a legacy behind.
Over the past decade, I have started to build mine. I have served in the armed forces, fighting against those barbarians who wish to impose their will upon our nation. I know I wasn’t alone in the fight, and will never be alone. Many came before I did, and many will after. Everyone has a side to them, whether it is a calm, cool, and collect side, or they are barbaric in nature. Time for a history lesson, kids. Anyone out there ever heard of a man names Albert Fish? Hamilton Howard Fish, Albert as he liked to be called took on various nicknames, such as the Gray Man, the Werewolf, the Brooklyn Vampire, and last but not least, the Boogeyman. Originally starting out as an orphan, he was introduced to one of the finer meals in life. A nice plate of shit, and washing it all down with a dandy yellow beverage, piss. Really, a great start to his life.
In the late 1800’s, he moved to New York to become a male hooker. And that is where it all began. His favorite? Young boys under age six. I know, you are probably thinking “why am I listening to a story of a hooker pedophile?” That answer is simple. This mans life centered around being barbaric, brutal, and outright savage. Many of this mans victims were castrated. He then used a meat cleaver, a butcher knife, and a bone saw to murder, torture, and outright destroy young children. Here’s where it gets silly. He bragged about having abused, beaten, tortured, and even eaten a child in every US state. But the case that made him famous? Grace Budd. A young woman which he had abducted, but was able to get her parents to AGREE to take her to his nieces birthday party! What the hell?! He never brought her back, clearly. But instead he sent off a letter describing how he got her to trust him. They had lunch together, then went in detail about how he stripped, killed, and ate her. Then let them know which parts tasted the best, and was very very adamant in the fact that he did NOT grape her. Kudos, Mr. Boogeyman. You’ve won this nation over by not raping her. But we need to talk about that whole cannibalism thing.
See, the reason I brought this story to you is because of its where brutality. Now, I all know what you’re thinking. This is a letter of intent. Why did I tell you that story? The answer is not the following. I’m NOT going to grape, murder, and eat my opponents in the Mill. No. However what I am going to do, is torture, pillage, and utterly embarrass each and every one of them. Torture? Isn’t that against the Geneva convention? Why yes it is! Congratulations! One point to you in the back. But I plan on doing things to these people that would be considered torture. I am going to hurt them in ways that they could never imagine. Based on my understanding of the match. Pillage? But of course, I will rob them of their dignity in this time of war. You’re not in a war. But yes I am! It is a war over my Championship. Now, embarrassing each and every one of them. While Holden decided to play his little charade for a former ally of mine, I know his mind will be preoccupied. And since that former ally is a member of the Network, I know that little damsel will be gunning for him too. Which brings me to Dirge. Which rhymes with Purge. And folks, I’ve got to tell you. That idea is fantastic. Because what I do to Dirge, will only be acceptable if this is a crime free zone. One down.
While Alan has decided to go from someone in one of the top factions in this company, to that stupid bitch’s lapdog, his mind is clearly not in the right place. A lot of bridges were burned for him to get to where he is, and to think that those four will stand tall and be the victors, is just quite cruel on our part. See, there is an end in sight for this version of the PMN. First Killian will lose the mop, to a guy who I think will brutalize him in that ring. I know, I’ve been there. Second, Zane? That schmuck is going to get all streamed on by a man called Fast Plane. Wait, that’s not right… Who cares?
Then, once the Mill finally closes for business, I will walk out with my body hunched over, beaten and battered like an ugly chick at a woman’s shelter, but I will be dragging MY Cross Hemisphere Championship with me. See, this idea of the Mill being brought in, was fantastic. At first I was a bit worried and to be quite honest, scared. But then I thought, being a Champion is about being the best. And that’s what I am. I am the best. I beat the best, therefor I am. Your minds are reeling, I can tell. If you were the best, wouldn’t you be World Champion? Excellent point. Yes, yes I would. But that is another chapter and verse for a different day.
Harley Adamms. Quite the little psycho these days. I trust you will use all the judgement in the world to ensure that you carry out my bidding. After all, we know you won’t run from the opportunity to damage Eden’s “empire”…. But then, you and I have some unfinished business to finally end. You’ve been quite the throne in my side over the last several months, and I really dislike that. Who am I kidding though, right? You don’t care what I like and dislike. You only care about calling me Red Fucktard, and licking the ass of the guy I beat at BattleGround. My apologies. Just know, little girl. One wrong move, and I will decimate you. It’s been a long time coming, and quite honestly, I am tired of it.
Now, the self proclaimed “Money Maker” and “Epitome of Sexy”… Get over yourself man. You look like I guy I saw in a show once. He was fucking his sister in a barn. If that is the “epitome of sexy”, then I want no part of this nation. While you may be one of the only…employees here with the absolute longest entrance, but what is truly, a shitty awful band, I have to hand it to you. Being the 2014 Yahtzee Champion? Now that is something to write home about. I mean seriously, how did you do it?
And finally… Holden. Preaching and spitting all this nonsense about your past with Wallace. That’s cute. 8 years of misery and psychotic behavior? Sounds like the Mill is your kind of party. However you won’t be getting the last laugh. Over a decade of destruction, pain, sorrow, victories, and losses behind myself and the rest of us. To me, this isn’t about you getting revenge. It’s about me keeping MY title. Holden... You and I, once friends. Once allies. You have turned your back to come after my prize. Well guess what kid, this belt isn’t going anywhere. Once you decided it necessary to stomp our friendship out of existence, that’s when I began to really worry about Horizons. But then I thought, wait a tick. This guy just put his number one contendership on the line against four people, including his arch nemesis. I’m sure Pepper Brooks would think it’s quite the bold strategy. Many people see these epic friendships fail, such as Eden and Travis, Th-Rob and Hastings, and many others. They expect some cliche blood bath of a pay per view match and all is right with the world. While this match will be a blood bath, no doubt, I can honestly look back and not give two fucks about whatever fairy tale friendship you thought we had. I do have to hand it to you, jumping on the Red Fucktard hater bandwagon with the rest of the MC, you really bought yourself in with a bunch of classy broads.
The point to all of this, is come Horizons, there is going to be quite a bit of blood loss, desecration, destruction, and it will be an out right massacre. I plan on doing everything I absolutely can to retain my title. Which I will. But I feel like this could be fun. I’ve found a newly enjoyed blood lust after finding out what the Mill is all about. Tactics, scary vignettes, etc… It’s all smoke and mirrors. Ha, mirrors. Fear, you and I need to talk.
I digress. It’s all showmanship. And showmanship, is what will get people fucked up. Bring all your pyros and balloons and happy go lucky circus shit. No one is going to get my title, and you can be damn sure of that.
Signed,
Red Fusion
Owner, Founder, and CEO of Red Fucktard Incorporated
______________________________
A nice and brisk cold winter day in Austin, Texas, as Red Fusion walks up to the front door of O’Malley’s. He unlocks it and walks in, locking it behind him. He heads over to the bar, pulling out a bottle of his favorite rum. He pops the top off of it and heads over to a table near the biggest TV in the place. He turns it on and starts sipping the rum as he flips through the channels. He stops when he hits CNN. What are they showing? More Ferguson nonsense.
Red: Now that is brutality. But definitely not from the cops.
Red chuckles and takes another drink of his rum. Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Red looks over, and it’s Ed. Red gets up and walks over, opening the door letting him in. The two head to the table.
Red: Where’s your key?
Ed: I forgot it at home. I really wanted to come and talk to you.
Red: How did you know I’d be here?
Ed: Please.
Red: No, seriously.
Ed: If I told you how I knew, there wouldn’t be anything mysterious remaining about me.
Red: Anyway. What’s up?
Ed: Horizons. How fitting that is the name of the show, too.
Red: What do you mean?
Ed: Well, we can only see just to the Horizon. Many people’s careers will be made, or broken at this event.
Red: Go on.
Ed stands up, and walks over to a painting on the wall. What could be considered something for a hotel room.
Ed: Terrifying. You know this artist got his start with puppets? What is it about puppets? It’s the same with clowns. I’ll never forget a puppet show I saw when I was five, maybe six. Hansel and Grettle.
Red: What’s this have to do with Horizons?
Ed: Scared me to death. But it wasn’t the which, it was the oven. Imagine, an oven puppet. *shrills* I don’t think I set foot in our kitchen for over a month.
Red: Ed… Come on.
Ed: Your career is far from the horizon. Your career is just picking up. It exceeds the horizon. How far? No one knows. That is up to you to decide.
Red: Well…thanks?
Ed nods and then walks over to the bar. He reaches behind and grabs a few things. He starts mixing and shaking and then pours a drink into a glass. He walks back over to the table and sits down, taking a sip.
Red: You know, after all these years, you’ve changed quite a bit.
Ed: How so?
Red: You’ve become so wise, and less dorky.
Ed: Dorky? Well, if finding out everything I can about who my opposition is, by way of computers and other forms of electronic intel, sure, I take dorky as a compliment.
Red: You know what I mean.
The two chuckle and take a drink of their beverages.
Ed: And hey, if it doesn’t work out with Lacy, I know a ravishing dame who would adore you. She’s slightly cross-eyes, and there’s something very hypnotic about her gaze.
Red just shakes his head and takes another swig of his rum.
In the backyard of our Champion, Red is grilling steaks, while Lacy and Bill and a few others are in the pool. Ed walks out onto the deck with a case of beer.
Red: Did you bring your suit?
Ed: I was a lifeguard my junior year of high school. Had to give mouth-to-mouth to Mrs. Beerman. She belched up a long full of corned beef and chlorine. I haven’t been in a pool since.
Red: Well I don’t think you need to worry about that here.
Ed nods and smiles, then shutters at the memory. He sets the case of beer down and pulls one out. He cracks it open and takes a sip.
Ed: Any thought to what we discussed?
Red: A little bit. But it’ll have to wait until after Horizons. Which reminds me, I need to take a few extra days. I’ve got to go do some shopping and preparing.
Ed: What are you in the market for?
Red: A chainsaw, handcuffs, a lot of rope, buckets, about 50 gallons of water, a jump box, among other things.
Ed looks directly off the deck at Lacy in the pool.
Ed: She’s into that?
Red: Oh God no. It’s for a special project.
Ed: I know a guy. He’s got everything you need, and more. They call him, the Supplier.
Red: Well, let’s go meet him, shall we?
Ed raises his beer to Red, in acknowledgement.
Bill: Hey man, those steaks about done?
Red: Another five minutes and they will be!
End.
The scene opens up outside of a warehouse in South Texas. Both Red, and Ed walk up to the door.
Ed: Now, I’ve got to warn you. This place will shock you, disgust you, and welcome you all at the same time.
Red: I’m beside myself already.
Ed knocks on the giant steel door. The slot, about eye level, opens up and a set of eyes appear.
Voice: Who’s there?
Ed: Come now, Donald, it’s Mr. Covington. I’m here to see the Supplier.
After a moment of uneasy silence, the giant metal door is opened. Both Red and Ed walk in and enter into a toy store for a professional torturer. Red just looks at the giant shelves in awe and Ed smiles as he makes a direct line for the man he came to see. The back of the warehouse has a long bar set up, where the Supplier is sitting and enjoying a drink. Red is still eyeballing the supplies on the shelves, and Ed walks over and hugs the Supplier.
Ed: Langston, how are we today?
Langston: *in a Russian accent* Good. James Covington. It’s been years!
Ed: Yes yes, I know. I have someone I want you to meet. Mr. F. Meet Langston. Long time supplier for me. However our meets were very sporadic.
Red: Please.
Langston: All mine. You know, James. When you called, I was a bit worried. Yet relieved.
Ed: Why is that?
Langston: It’s been many many years. Are you still in business with the Doctor?
Ed: Who? Doctor K? Oh heavens no. He’s long since retired.
Red: Wait, you supplied Doctor K?
Ed: That’s neither here nor there.
Red: Whoa, no. Do you realize what he and I did to each other?
Ed: Yes, I do. Which is why I’m glad you came out on top. Now, can we continue?
Red: Sure…
Ed: Langston, I’m here because I’ve got a tall order to fill.
Langston: What do you need?
Ed reaches in his pocket and pulls out a sheet of paper, which is full of writing and hands it to Langston.
Ed: I need this list, delivered to the address on the back, no later than the tenth of the month.
Langston: That is quite the list my friend. I may need an extra day for the head crushing device.
Ed: Well, no bother. I’m sure we can do without it anyway. Right?
Red: Eh, yeah I guess so.
Ed: Remind me again what the chainsaw is for?
Red: Oh, that one is personal use.
Ed: Langston, I’m sure we won’t have an issue with this list?
Langston: No no not at all. In fact, I am very well versed in this game. How about I take a look, eliminate things that shouldn’t really be necessary and get you everything that you need. How many people are we talking bout?
Ed: Four, maybe some extras.
Red: Make it for about ten.
Langston/Ed: Ten?!
Red: The MC and the Network… you never know who’s going to just drop in.
Ed: Fair enough. Langston, ten people in the dinner party.
Langston: Consider it done.
As Langston hands off the list to Donald, Ed reaches in his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. Red just looks, eyeballing the situation.
Ed: And as far as payment goes, this should be enough to cover everything including the delivery?
As Langston counts the money, Red leans in to whisper to Ed.
Red: Where did you get that? You’re not telling me everything.
Ed: Let me put your mind at ease. I’m never telling you everything.
Langston has finished counting and Red looks a bit irritated.
Langston: We good. More than enough, and I appreciate generosity. Now, shall we have a drink?
Ed: Of course! Mr. F?
Red: Pass.
Ed: Oh my gosh. You have no idea what you’re missing. Try a Russian grapefruit gusher. It’s just like you today. A little sour.
Red rolls his eyes as Ed removes his fedora and sits next to Langston and they both take a shot of vodka. Red goes around on the other side of Langston and takes a seat. The bartender, Ivan, looks at him, waiting for a drink order.
Red: Rum?
Ivan: No rum.
Red: Scotch?
Ivan: No scotch.
Red: Well then what do you have?
Ivan: Vodka.
Red: Then vodka I guess.
Ivan sets a shot glass out and pours him some vodka. Red shoots it and asks for another. He gets it.
Red: If all you had was vodka, why didn’t you just say so?
Ivan: Only vodka.
Red: Gee, thanks for the heads up.
Red shakes his head and takes the shot. Ed and Langston are reminiscing.
Langston: James, this has been fun. But I must get back to work.
Ed: Let’s be honest Langston, you don’t do a whole lot.
Langston: *chuckling* Correct you are!
Ed: I never tire of being correct.
All three men stand up and shake hands.
Ed: Good day to you. And I look forward to the delivery.
Both Red and Ed walk off. Ed puts his fedora back on and they exit the building. End.
Red: You two, out now.
Both Zane and Alan look at Eden, and she nods. As they exit, Red slams the door shut. He turns right around and puts his hands on her desk and she leans back in the chair.
Red: Where the hell do you get off doing that? That was utter bullshit! You practically left me out there on my own.
Eden: Carl is the head of security for a reason.
Red: I don’t give a fuck about Carl! Dammit, Eden, we are a team. If this is how I’m going to be treated being a part of this company, then you can go fuck yourself. I signed up for this because it was best for business. If that’s what you are all about, like you claim to be, you wouldn’t have fed me to the Goddamn slaughterhouse! You know what I think?
Eden nods with curiosity as Red steps back from the desk.
Red: This is about me being the Cross Hemisphere Champion. I did what I had to do to get what I wanted. And you’re scared. You’re scared that when someone has a mission, they will achieve it. You’re scared of Sharpe. You’re scared that Vain won’t win at Horizons. You’re scared that everything you’ve done here, everything you’ve achieved, stolen, earned… Will be all for nothing. You’re scared that everything is going to crumble beneath your feet and you’ll be left with nothing.
Red pauses for a moment, pacing back and forth. He stops, and turns right to Eden.
Red: I should have seen this from a mile away. The lies, deception. Everything you fed Travis.
Eden: His name is Trevor.
Red: Oh shut up. His name is Travis fucking Pierce. And to be quite honest, he’s going to wipe the floor with you. Everything you’ve done here, is all for nothing. Everything you have worked for, will crash and burn, just like you will.
Eden: Anything else?
Red: As much as I loathe everyone in the group, I hope the DMW gets their hands on you. You have it coming.
Before Eden can say anything, Red storms out of the office, slamming the door behind him. She just sits back, calm, and smirks just enough. Out in the hallway, Zane and Alan are standing a bit down towards reception. Red walks right up to Alan.
Alan: Can I help you?
Red: By the time I’m through with you, the only job you’ll be able to get is at the front desk, and that’s if Travis will even allow it.
Red walks off and exits the building. End.
______________________________
A letter of intent…
There are those who go about each and every day, content with where they are in life. None of them are too excited to get out there and jump at a chance at fame. No recognition for anything outstanding. Then there are some who want the world to know who they are. To know what they are capable of. Many people decide they want nothing but good in the world. Others, want to push their evil and sadistic ways upon the world. I say, to each their own. Everyone should leave a legacy behind.
Over the past decade, I have started to build mine. I have served in the armed forces, fighting against those barbarians who wish to impose their will upon our nation. I know I wasn’t alone in the fight, and will never be alone. Many came before I did, and many will after. Everyone has a side to them, whether it is a calm, cool, and collect side, or they are barbaric in nature. Time for a history lesson, kids. Anyone out there ever heard of a man names Albert Fish? Hamilton Howard Fish, Albert as he liked to be called took on various nicknames, such as the Gray Man, the Werewolf, the Brooklyn Vampire, and last but not least, the Boogeyman. Originally starting out as an orphan, he was introduced to one of the finer meals in life. A nice plate of shit, and washing it all down with a dandy yellow beverage, piss. Really, a great start to his life.
In the late 1800’s, he moved to New York to become a male hooker. And that is where it all began. His favorite? Young boys under age six. I know, you are probably thinking “why am I listening to a story of a hooker pedophile?” That answer is simple. This mans life centered around being barbaric, brutal, and outright savage. Many of this mans victims were castrated. He then used a meat cleaver, a butcher knife, and a bone saw to murder, torture, and outright destroy young children. Here’s where it gets silly. He bragged about having abused, beaten, tortured, and even eaten a child in every US state. But the case that made him famous? Grace Budd. A young woman which he had abducted, but was able to get her parents to AGREE to take her to his nieces birthday party! What the hell?! He never brought her back, clearly. But instead he sent off a letter describing how he got her to trust him. They had lunch together, then went in detail about how he stripped, killed, and ate her. Then let them know which parts tasted the best, and was very very adamant in the fact that he did NOT grape her. Kudos, Mr. Boogeyman. You’ve won this nation over by not raping her. But we need to talk about that whole cannibalism thing.
See, the reason I brought this story to you is because of its where brutality. Now, I all know what you’re thinking. This is a letter of intent. Why did I tell you that story? The answer is not the following. I’m NOT going to grape, murder, and eat my opponents in the Mill. No. However what I am going to do, is torture, pillage, and utterly embarrass each and every one of them. Torture? Isn’t that against the Geneva convention? Why yes it is! Congratulations! One point to you in the back. But I plan on doing things to these people that would be considered torture. I am going to hurt them in ways that they could never imagine. Based on my understanding of the match. Pillage? But of course, I will rob them of their dignity in this time of war. You’re not in a war. But yes I am! It is a war over my Championship. Now, embarrassing each and every one of them. While Holden decided to play his little charade for a former ally of mine, I know his mind will be preoccupied. And since that former ally is a member of the Network, I know that little damsel will be gunning for him too. Which brings me to Dirge. Which rhymes with Purge. And folks, I’ve got to tell you. That idea is fantastic. Because what I do to Dirge, will only be acceptable if this is a crime free zone. One down.
While Alan has decided to go from someone in one of the top factions in this company, to that stupid bitch’s lapdog, his mind is clearly not in the right place. A lot of bridges were burned for him to get to where he is, and to think that those four will stand tall and be the victors, is just quite cruel on our part. See, there is an end in sight for this version of the PMN. First Killian will lose the mop, to a guy who I think will brutalize him in that ring. I know, I’ve been there. Second, Zane? That schmuck is going to get all streamed on by a man called Fast Plane. Wait, that’s not right… Who cares?
Then, once the Mill finally closes for business, I will walk out with my body hunched over, beaten and battered like an ugly chick at a woman’s shelter, but I will be dragging MY Cross Hemisphere Championship with me. See, this idea of the Mill being brought in, was fantastic. At first I was a bit worried and to be quite honest, scared. But then I thought, being a Champion is about being the best. And that’s what I am. I am the best. I beat the best, therefor I am. Your minds are reeling, I can tell. If you were the best, wouldn’t you be World Champion? Excellent point. Yes, yes I would. But that is another chapter and verse for a different day.
Harley Adamms. Quite the little psycho these days. I trust you will use all the judgement in the world to ensure that you carry out my bidding. After all, we know you won’t run from the opportunity to damage Eden’s “empire”…. But then, you and I have some unfinished business to finally end. You’ve been quite the throne in my side over the last several months, and I really dislike that. Who am I kidding though, right? You don’t care what I like and dislike. You only care about calling me Red Fucktard, and licking the ass of the guy I beat at BattleGround. My apologies. Just know, little girl. One wrong move, and I will decimate you. It’s been a long time coming, and quite honestly, I am tired of it.
Now, the self proclaimed “Money Maker” and “Epitome of Sexy”… Get over yourself man. You look like I guy I saw in a show once. He was fucking his sister in a barn. If that is the “epitome of sexy”, then I want no part of this nation. While you may be one of the only…employees here with the absolute longest entrance, but what is truly, a shitty awful band, I have to hand it to you. Being the 2014 Yahtzee Champion? Now that is something to write home about. I mean seriously, how did you do it?
And finally… Holden. Preaching and spitting all this nonsense about your past with Wallace. That’s cute. 8 years of misery and psychotic behavior? Sounds like the Mill is your kind of party. However you won’t be getting the last laugh. Over a decade of destruction, pain, sorrow, victories, and losses behind myself and the rest of us. To me, this isn’t about you getting revenge. It’s about me keeping MY title. Holden... You and I, once friends. Once allies. You have turned your back to come after my prize. Well guess what kid, this belt isn’t going anywhere. Once you decided it necessary to stomp our friendship out of existence, that’s when I began to really worry about Horizons. But then I thought, wait a tick. This guy just put his number one contendership on the line against four people, including his arch nemesis. I’m sure Pepper Brooks would think it’s quite the bold strategy. Many people see these epic friendships fail, such as Eden and Travis, Th-Rob and Hastings, and many others. They expect some cliche blood bath of a pay per view match and all is right with the world. While this match will be a blood bath, no doubt, I can honestly look back and not give two fucks about whatever fairy tale friendship you thought we had. I do have to hand it to you, jumping on the Red Fucktard hater bandwagon with the rest of the MC, you really bought yourself in with a bunch of classy broads.
The point to all of this, is come Horizons, there is going to be quite a bit of blood loss, desecration, destruction, and it will be an out right massacre. I plan on doing everything I absolutely can to retain my title. Which I will. But I feel like this could be fun. I’ve found a newly enjoyed blood lust after finding out what the Mill is all about. Tactics, scary vignettes, etc… It’s all smoke and mirrors. Ha, mirrors. Fear, you and I need to talk.
I digress. It’s all showmanship. And showmanship, is what will get people fucked up. Bring all your pyros and balloons and happy go lucky circus shit. No one is going to get my title, and you can be damn sure of that.
Signed,
Red Fusion
Owner, Founder, and CEO of Red Fucktard Incorporated
______________________________
A nice and brisk cold winter day in Austin, Texas, as Red Fusion walks up to the front door of O’Malley’s. He unlocks it and walks in, locking it behind him. He heads over to the bar, pulling out a bottle of his favorite rum. He pops the top off of it and heads over to a table near the biggest TV in the place. He turns it on and starts sipping the rum as he flips through the channels. He stops when he hits CNN. What are they showing? More Ferguson nonsense.
Red: Now that is brutality. But definitely not from the cops.
Red chuckles and takes another drink of his rum. Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Red looks over, and it’s Ed. Red gets up and walks over, opening the door letting him in. The two head to the table.
Red: Where’s your key?
Ed: I forgot it at home. I really wanted to come and talk to you.
Red: How did you know I’d be here?
Ed: Please.
Red: No, seriously.
Ed: If I told you how I knew, there wouldn’t be anything mysterious remaining about me.
Red: Anyway. What’s up?
Ed: Horizons. How fitting that is the name of the show, too.
Red: What do you mean?
Ed: Well, we can only see just to the Horizon. Many people’s careers will be made, or broken at this event.
Red: Go on.
Ed stands up, and walks over to a painting on the wall. What could be considered something for a hotel room.
Ed: Terrifying. You know this artist got his start with puppets? What is it about puppets? It’s the same with clowns. I’ll never forget a puppet show I saw when I was five, maybe six. Hansel and Grettle.
Red: What’s this have to do with Horizons?
Ed: Scared me to death. But it wasn’t the which, it was the oven. Imagine, an oven puppet. *shrills* I don’t think I set foot in our kitchen for over a month.
Red: Ed… Come on.
Ed: Your career is far from the horizon. Your career is just picking up. It exceeds the horizon. How far? No one knows. That is up to you to decide.
Red: Well…thanks?
Ed nods and then walks over to the bar. He reaches behind and grabs a few things. He starts mixing and shaking and then pours a drink into a glass. He walks back over to the table and sits down, taking a sip.
Red: You know, after all these years, you’ve changed quite a bit.
Ed: How so?
Red: You’ve become so wise, and less dorky.
Ed: Dorky? Well, if finding out everything I can about who my opposition is, by way of computers and other forms of electronic intel, sure, I take dorky as a compliment.
Red: You know what I mean.
The two chuckle and take a drink of their beverages.
Ed: And hey, if it doesn’t work out with Lacy, I know a ravishing dame who would adore you. She’s slightly cross-eyes, and there’s something very hypnotic about her gaze.
Red just shakes his head and takes another swig of his rum.
THE NEXT DAY, RED’S HOUSE, OUT BACK...
In the backyard of our Champion, Red is grilling steaks, while Lacy and Bill and a few others are in the pool. Ed walks out onto the deck with a case of beer.
Red: Did you bring your suit?
Ed: I was a lifeguard my junior year of high school. Had to give mouth-to-mouth to Mrs. Beerman. She belched up a long full of corned beef and chlorine. I haven’t been in a pool since.
Red: Well I don’t think you need to worry about that here.
Ed nods and smiles, then shutters at the memory. He sets the case of beer down and pulls one out. He cracks it open and takes a sip.
Ed: Any thought to what we discussed?
Red: A little bit. But it’ll have to wait until after Horizons. Which reminds me, I need to take a few extra days. I’ve got to go do some shopping and preparing.
Ed: What are you in the market for?
Red: A chainsaw, handcuffs, a lot of rope, buckets, about 50 gallons of water, a jump box, among other things.
Ed looks directly off the deck at Lacy in the pool.
Ed: She’s into that?
Red: Oh God no. It’s for a special project.
Ed: I know a guy. He’s got everything you need, and more. They call him, the Supplier.
Red: Well, let’s go meet him, shall we?
Ed raises his beer to Red, in acknowledgement.
Bill: Hey man, those steaks about done?
Red: Another five minutes and they will be!
End.
No. 196: The Supplier
The scene opens up outside of a warehouse in South Texas. Both Red, and Ed walk up to the door.
Ed: Now, I’ve got to warn you. This place will shock you, disgust you, and welcome you all at the same time.
Red: I’m beside myself already.
Ed knocks on the giant steel door. The slot, about eye level, opens up and a set of eyes appear.
Voice: Who’s there?
Ed: Come now, Donald, it’s Mr. Covington. I’m here to see the Supplier.
After a moment of uneasy silence, the giant metal door is opened. Both Red and Ed walk in and enter into a toy store for a professional torturer. Red just looks at the giant shelves in awe and Ed smiles as he makes a direct line for the man he came to see. The back of the warehouse has a long bar set up, where the Supplier is sitting and enjoying a drink. Red is still eyeballing the supplies on the shelves, and Ed walks over and hugs the Supplier.
Ed: Langston, how are we today?
Langston: *in a Russian accent* Good. James Covington. It’s been years!
Ed: Yes yes, I know. I have someone I want you to meet. Mr. F. Meet Langston. Long time supplier for me. However our meets were very sporadic.
Red: Please.
Langston: All mine. You know, James. When you called, I was a bit worried. Yet relieved.
Ed: Why is that?
Langston: It’s been many many years. Are you still in business with the Doctor?
Ed: Who? Doctor K? Oh heavens no. He’s long since retired.
Red: Wait, you supplied Doctor K?
Ed: That’s neither here nor there.
Red: Whoa, no. Do you realize what he and I did to each other?
Ed: Yes, I do. Which is why I’m glad you came out on top. Now, can we continue?
Red: Sure…
Ed: Langston, I’m here because I’ve got a tall order to fill.
Langston: What do you need?
Ed reaches in his pocket and pulls out a sheet of paper, which is full of writing and hands it to Langston.
Ed: I need this list, delivered to the address on the back, no later than the tenth of the month.
Langston: That is quite the list my friend. I may need an extra day for the head crushing device.
Ed: Well, no bother. I’m sure we can do without it anyway. Right?
Red: Eh, yeah I guess so.
Ed: Remind me again what the chainsaw is for?
Red: Oh, that one is personal use.
Ed: Langston, I’m sure we won’t have an issue with this list?
Langston: No no not at all. In fact, I am very well versed in this game. How about I take a look, eliminate things that shouldn’t really be necessary and get you everything that you need. How many people are we talking bout?
Ed: Four, maybe some extras.
Red: Make it for about ten.
Langston/Ed: Ten?!
Red: The MC and the Network… you never know who’s going to just drop in.
Ed: Fair enough. Langston, ten people in the dinner party.
Langston: Consider it done.
As Langston hands off the list to Donald, Ed reaches in his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. Red just looks, eyeballing the situation.
Ed: And as far as payment goes, this should be enough to cover everything including the delivery?
As Langston counts the money, Red leans in to whisper to Ed.
Red: Where did you get that? You’re not telling me everything.
Ed: Let me put your mind at ease. I’m never telling you everything.
Langston has finished counting and Red looks a bit irritated.
Langston: We good. More than enough, and I appreciate generosity. Now, shall we have a drink?
Ed: Of course! Mr. F?
Red: Pass.
Ed: Oh my gosh. You have no idea what you’re missing. Try a Russian grapefruit gusher. It’s just like you today. A little sour.
Red rolls his eyes as Ed removes his fedora and sits next to Langston and they both take a shot of vodka. Red goes around on the other side of Langston and takes a seat. The bartender, Ivan, looks at him, waiting for a drink order.
Red: Rum?
Ivan: No rum.
Red: Scotch?
Ivan: No scotch.
Red: Well then what do you have?
Ivan: Vodka.
Red: Then vodka I guess.
Ivan sets a shot glass out and pours him some vodka. Red shoots it and asks for another. He gets it.
Red: If all you had was vodka, why didn’t you just say so?
Ivan: Only vodka.
Red: Gee, thanks for the heads up.
Red shakes his head and takes the shot. Ed and Langston are reminiscing.
Langston: James, this has been fun. But I must get back to work.
Ed: Let’s be honest Langston, you don’t do a whole lot.
Langston: *chuckling* Correct you are!
Ed: I never tire of being correct.
All three men stand up and shake hands.
Ed: Good day to you. And I look forward to the delivery.
Both Red and Ed walk off. Ed puts his fedora back on and they exit the building. End.
