Post by Declan Prescott on Jun 30, 2010 18:28:25 GMT -5
Welcome Peter Damascus, this is YOUR LIFE!
The spotlights flashed into Damascus’ eyes, blinding him to everything. As his vision returned, he saw something that filled every inch of his being with pure delight.
Nothing.
A simple, all-encompassing, vast, endless pit of only blackness. It was so beautiful.
“The warrior has lost his way. Are you really ready to give up so easily?”
“It’s not about giving up. It’s about having nothing left. In this place, one doesn’t need to care, because there’s nothing to care about. It’s just existing. With no doubt, no fear, no hope, just the ultimate truth that we are alone and everything we do is futile, because life was never supposed to be anything good.”
“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re lonely.”
“And you’re such an asshole when you’re existing.”
“YOU! WE MEET AGAIN!”
Damascus turned to see the precious emptiness now occupied by a most unwelcome presence.
“I haven’t forgotten!” Douglas Maguire spat, pulling a switchblade from his coat.
“That’s just a key…”
“I see you’ve played knifey, keyey before!”
“WHAT ABOUT ME?!”
Bane now stared the pair down, his mask covering the anger etched in the crease lines of his face.
“This is Petey’s life, bitch! And you haven’t done fuck all in it! Not even enough to be ridiculed for! So piss off!”
“Yeah, you gotta work for that right!”
“Fuck off, Andy.”
“Sorry…”
“Now I get it! It’s pointless! Everything! There’ll always be something, because even nothing is something! I’ll never find any rest! Whether it’s ghosts from my past, having to beat another man into bloody submission for no reason other than nothing or the simple fact that I’m a human being buried by humanity, I can never escape! I can never rest! I fight until I die and then I’m nothing.”
“And what then?”
“Who knows? I’m sure I’ll end up being something.”
“Like a murderer?”
“How about an executioner?”
“I don’t plan on murdering Bane.”
“Woah…”
Damascus opened his eyes. No longer the blank void of nothingness met his gaze. Instead he was greeted by the sight of a bound and gagged, unconscious, possibly even dead, Jack Ryans.
“Guess the good fight didn’t go so well for him…”
“Oh God… it had to be Germany…”
The rotting door to the basement swung open, the Neanderthal known as Great White appeared.
“Duh, you wasn’t meant ta wake up from da drinky Savage gave you…”
“We’re fighting the good fight!! Right, Petey?”
“You’re wasting your breath on this guy. Not that you actually talk…”
“Duh, Savage says I read at a second grade level! I love his stories about Jackle Cakes!”
Damascus sighed, before easily freeing himself of the clumsily tied rope that was intended to restrain him. He then sidestepped a lumbering swing from Great White, before downing the giant by throwing Jack Ryans directly at him.
“That’s it, Cyrus! We’re not going drinking in a German bar ever again!”
“You just said my name. I never knew you cared so much, sweetie.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Even Jamal King had a name. And he’s dead.”
“Oooohhhh, scary… but shouldn’t we be helping Bianca right now? She was with us when we had that spiked drink.”
“Yes, she was. Yet, she isn’t here…”
“Think she’s okay?”
“She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met. She can handle herself. if anything, she should be saving us.”
“But can you handle her? I know I’d sure like to…”
“YA FIND OUT EVERYTHING ABOUT DIS CRACKA, YA HEAR?! I WANT ALL DA PLAYAS DAT WHITE BREAD HANGS WID, EVERYONE HE KNOWS, EVERYWHERE HE GOES! IF DAT WHITE BOY EVEN THINKS ABOUT DAT SHIT, I WANNA KNOW!!!”
“I understand.”
She stood before Boss Penguin, who was sprawled out comfortably in the bath tub of his five star motel room. Covered in ice cold water and bright pink bubbles, the creature would have seemed truly at peace, if not for his foul mouthed, highly enraged dialect.
“DA FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY NIGGARETTE?!”
“I understand, sir!” Bianca Rowe responded.
“GOOD SHIAT! NOW WAD’YA GOT SO FAR?!”
“Not much,” she answered, staring at her heels. “I know he isn’t here by accident. And, while he’s deranged, he isn’t crazy, like people think. There’s a method to his madness, I’m sure.”
“I COULDA TOLD YA DAT MUCH! DAT NIGGA STUFFED JAMAL IN A BOX AND SHIPPED DA DEAD NEGRO RIGHT TO ME! NO ONE IS DAT CRAZY, ‘CEPT FO’ SEAN JENSEN FANS! I NEED TO KNOW WHY HE’S DOING DIS SHIT!”
“I’ll do my very best, sir.”
She turned on her heels and moved toward the door. As she reached it, the penguin growled at her one final time.
“AND IF YA KILL ANYMORE OF MY HOMEBOYS, I’LL BUST A CAP IN YO SKINNY, WHITE ASS!”
“Of course, sir…”
The spotlights flashed into Damascus’ eyes, blinding him to everything. As his vision returned, he saw something that filled every inch of his being with pure delight.
Nothing.
A simple, all-encompassing, vast, endless pit of only blackness. It was so beautiful.
“The warrior has lost his way. Are you really ready to give up so easily?”
“It’s not about giving up. It’s about having nothing left. In this place, one doesn’t need to care, because there’s nothing to care about. It’s just existing. With no doubt, no fear, no hope, just the ultimate truth that we are alone and everything we do is futile, because life was never supposed to be anything good.”
“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re lonely.”
“And you’re such an asshole when you’re existing.”
“YOU! WE MEET AGAIN!”
Damascus turned to see the precious emptiness now occupied by a most unwelcome presence.
“I haven’t forgotten!” Douglas Maguire spat, pulling a switchblade from his coat.
“That’s just a key…”
“I see you’ve played knifey, keyey before!”
“WHAT ABOUT ME?!”
Bane now stared the pair down, his mask covering the anger etched in the crease lines of his face.
“This is Petey’s life, bitch! And you haven’t done fuck all in it! Not even enough to be ridiculed for! So piss off!”
“Yeah, you gotta work for that right!”
“Fuck off, Andy.”
“Sorry…”
“Now I get it! It’s pointless! Everything! There’ll always be something, because even nothing is something! I’ll never find any rest! Whether it’s ghosts from my past, having to beat another man into bloody submission for no reason other than nothing or the simple fact that I’m a human being buried by humanity, I can never escape! I can never rest! I fight until I die and then I’m nothing.”
“And what then?”
“Who knows? I’m sure I’ll end up being something.”
“Like a murderer?”
“How about an executioner?”
“I don’t plan on murdering Bane.”
“Woah…”
Damascus opened his eyes. No longer the blank void of nothingness met his gaze. Instead he was greeted by the sight of a bound and gagged, unconscious, possibly even dead, Jack Ryans.
“Guess the good fight didn’t go so well for him…”
“Oh God… it had to be Germany…”
The rotting door to the basement swung open, the Neanderthal known as Great White appeared.
“Duh, you wasn’t meant ta wake up from da drinky Savage gave you…”
“We’re fighting the good fight!! Right, Petey?”
“You’re wasting your breath on this guy. Not that you actually talk…”
“Duh, Savage says I read at a second grade level! I love his stories about Jackle Cakes!”
Damascus sighed, before easily freeing himself of the clumsily tied rope that was intended to restrain him. He then sidestepped a lumbering swing from Great White, before downing the giant by throwing Jack Ryans directly at him.
“That’s it, Cyrus! We’re not going drinking in a German bar ever again!”
“You just said my name. I never knew you cared so much, sweetie.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Even Jamal King had a name. And he’s dead.”
“Oooohhhh, scary… but shouldn’t we be helping Bianca right now? She was with us when we had that spiked drink.”
“Yes, she was. Yet, she isn’t here…”
“Think she’s okay?”
“She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met. She can handle herself. if anything, she should be saving us.”
“But can you handle her? I know I’d sure like to…”
* * * * *
“YA FIND OUT EVERYTHING ABOUT DIS CRACKA, YA HEAR?! I WANT ALL DA PLAYAS DAT WHITE BREAD HANGS WID, EVERYONE HE KNOWS, EVERYWHERE HE GOES! IF DAT WHITE BOY EVEN THINKS ABOUT DAT SHIT, I WANNA KNOW!!!”
“I understand.”
She stood before Boss Penguin, who was sprawled out comfortably in the bath tub of his five star motel room. Covered in ice cold water and bright pink bubbles, the creature would have seemed truly at peace, if not for his foul mouthed, highly enraged dialect.
“DA FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY NIGGARETTE?!”
“I understand, sir!” Bianca Rowe responded.
“GOOD SHIAT! NOW WAD’YA GOT SO FAR?!”
“Not much,” she answered, staring at her heels. “I know he isn’t here by accident. And, while he’s deranged, he isn’t crazy, like people think. There’s a method to his madness, I’m sure.”
“I COULDA TOLD YA DAT MUCH! DAT NIGGA STUFFED JAMAL IN A BOX AND SHIPPED DA DEAD NEGRO RIGHT TO ME! NO ONE IS DAT CRAZY, ‘CEPT FO’ SEAN JENSEN FANS! I NEED TO KNOW WHY HE’S DOING DIS SHIT!”
“I’ll do my very best, sir.”
She turned on her heels and moved toward the door. As she reached it, the penguin growled at her one final time.
“AND IF YA KILL ANYMORE OF MY HOMEBOYS, I’LL BUST A CAP IN YO SKINNY, WHITE ASS!”
“Of course, sir…”
