Remember Yourself
Scene One | Off-Camera | 11/01/2022
“Old mate looks like he stepped right outta the 60’s don’t you think, Ravey baby?”
James always did have a way with words. Research, tapes, an understanding. It was important to research people who have as much to offer as Bill. Purely to see their weaknesses. Purely to see their failures. So why James was the one watching, and Alex was lost in his own world, only he knew for sure.
“Billy boy doesn’t know what he’s done, James. You don’t fuck with me. You don’t get involved. You don’t step into my world, and alter its course. He’s old school, he’s old. He’s stupid. He’s built like a brick shithouse, but he’s dumb. Do you know why he is dumb, James? Do you know why?"
Raucous laughter erupted from James, a hand slapping down on his thighs. It wasn’t his usual laughter. It sounded jovial and joyful, but it was different. That was the Barracuda’s laugh. Thinking, thoughtful. Dangerous.
“You don’t fuck with the Barracuda, and you especially don’t fuck with Alexander Raven. Death, Taxes and a Raging Raven. You better neuter this bitch, rockstar. You better put him in his place. I ain’t picking you up outta that rut again, boy. You neuter him, or I’m gonna neuter you, rockstar.”
Alex clicked the power button on a remote, turning the TV off, and got to his feet. A cigarette slipped from behind his ear, and placed it to his lips, sparking it. The strike of a match, the light puffing as James followed suit with a cigar. Alex strode to the kitchen, followed in suit by the looming shadow of James Pasilno.
“Arrogance, James. Arrogance. He’s arrogant for thinking he can involve himself in my affairs, and get away with it. Knox is good, real good. Probably one of the best I’ve stepped with since Remington. Yet Billy boy, he involves himself. He involves himself in my affairs. You don’t get involved in my affairs, unless you’re ready to face the repercussion. Old men James. He is an old man, and I’m going to break his fragile flesh. I’m going to tear open his paper skin, and put him in his place. I’m going to make sure he understands that there is no gimmick in this. That I’m not just a joke. That I’m not a man hiding behind a persona. That the Alexander Raven that thinks himself the leader of the broken, is more than just that. Unhinged, James. The Bulldog will get to see the unhinged.”
A hand came to rest on Alex’s shoulder. Flinching, his body tensing as James’ grip tensed up. His other hand ruffling Alex’s hair before he strode past him and opened a cupboard, pulling a few glasses out.
“You’re losing yourself sugar. Don’t lose yourself to it. Focus Ravey, focus. You need to focus, not get lost in the waves of rage. Lemme talk to ya, Ravey. Lemma talk to ya.”
Alex let the tension slip from his shoulder, pulling a chair at the table. Setting himself down as James poured a couple glasses of the classic #7, taking a few cubes of ice from the fridge, dropping them in each. One slid in front of Alex, the other held in James hand as he paced the table.
“Do you remember rockstar? Leon was just like you. A harder boy I never knew, but he reminds of you. Zig and zag, he took them boys years before you did, and he failed. Bravado, confidence, and anger, Ravey. We were all angry, young boys. Boys! We were god damn children, Alex. The difference, is Leon didn’t get outta that river. He swam in the waves of the anger and he let it take him. He turned on you, he turned on me, he turned on himself. I put him down rockstar. I put him down, and he ain’t ever getting back up. Don’t lose yourself, rockstar. I’ll put you down, and I told you. I ain’t liftin’ you up again.”
“But I’m gonna give you some advice I didn’t give Leon. You gotta walk that line rockstar. But you gotta know the difference. You’re the Raging Raven, the Broken Messiah in that ring. Out here, you’re my rockstar, you’re my best friend. You’re the one who slings the beers when I’m too cock-eyed to sling’em straight. In that ring, rockstar. I’m the Barracuda. I’m THE James Phenomenal. Out here, I’m just me, rockstar. I’m the gravy boat lover. I’m the king of the bar. The Barracuda is always lurkin’, ready to slice and dice, and chew ‘em all up. But when it’s us, you remember yourself Alex. You got that, rockstar?”
The words weren’t menacing, but the old school brawler in James was ever present. They weren’t so different. Walking a line between losing themselves to the images they make for themselves. James wasn’t kidding about Leon either. He didn’t know the full story, but he knew there was a shooting. Who started it? He wouldn’t ever know, but James was free and alive, and Leon was long gone. Not sure if he was breathing, but he’d been long since out of their lives. He missed him sometimes. He was fun-loving, jovial. His demons ate away at him, but he had a good side. James was a good friend, but there was always that danger. He was hard to read. Maybe that’s why they got along so well.
“We’re going to neuter that bitch, James. That’s all there is to it.”
The raucous laughter once more and the slap of his palm on the table. They both clinked the rims of their glasses together, downing them in one.
“You better, rockstar.”
Drawing Board
Scene Two | On-Camera | 12/01/2022
“Back to the drawing board.
Back
to
the
drawing…
Board.”
An empty office. A board room table, surrounded by empty chairs. A single whiteboard standing at the head of it, text written across it. Red marker ink, and a name. ‘Bill Barnhart’. A person stood with his back to the empty audience, staring at the board, marker in hand. ‘Bulldog’ now being written above it. Then a line slashed through the name. Only bulldog left unmarked.
“The Bulldog. A confident, yet dumb, old man. Confident and old-school. An old town Georgia pro. You stuck your nose in my business Bulldog. Like the untrained mutt that you are. You took your nose and you stuck it where it does not belong. Interrupting my match. Interfering in my match. Mocking the good faith I had put in you as champion. Mocking the faith I had in you to keep to your goddamn self. Champion? No, that’s a mockery of the word, Bulldog. You’re nothing but the bitch you mark yourself as. I don’t believe in letting a dog run rampant in heat. It’s unbecoming.”
“So I need you to understand what I’m saying when I tell you.”
“I am going to neuter you, Bulldog.”
The sound of flesh against the board. The thud ringing out dully in the empty space. Then again, and again. The sound of cracking as the board begins to break under the beating of the fist. Again and again, and then, it broke. His fist punching straight through, his knuckles cracked and bleeding. His forearm scratched up as it slides back through the hole.
“Violence is the language of my upbringing, Bulldog. Violence is what beget my existence, and it is what will continue to control it. Abusive, alcoholic father. Manipulative, aggressive mentor. Ungrateful friends, and emotional abusive protege. Violence begets violence, Bulldog. Do you know what it’s like to be bred in violence? Perhaps you too, had a father who taught with fists? I do not know, I do not truly care to know. For I know this, Bulldog. That the spin of the wheel is daunting for many, but not for me. For any instrument of torture that is lending to oneself, becomes a tool for my success. Broken, unhinged and disconnected as I may be, I can see forward and I can see clearly.”
“For when you stepped to me, you made a mistake. For when you put your nose into my business you deemed it necessary to break an unspoken given of truce. Respect, Bill. A man of your tenure should know it. Yet here you stand. Mocking the traditions that founded the world we walk in. Violence Bill. Violence is in your future.”
Darkness.
Then the flicker of flames. A field replacing the office. A firepit leaping with somewhat larger than normal flames. Another whiteboard. The word ‘violence’ slathered across it. This time in black ink. A small drawing of a bat, a chair, and a collar and lead.
“I need you to understand what I’m telling you, Bulldog. Are you listening? Are you following me? I need you to understand. I need you to follow me. You need to understand this.”
The slap of a palm against the board, Alex’s face illuminated by the flickering flames. His face contorted with anger. His eyes blazing with a similar flame of passion. His teeth gritted, a heavy coat draped loosely on his shoulders.
“Broken, unhinged, disconnected. Disconnected, unhinged and broken. You’re a confident man Bill. This I know. Yet your confidence is founded in a loose fallacy. A fallacy of supremacy. A fallacy of arrogance and over-confidence. An old mentality. I’ve stepped in the ring against many an old man like you Bill. Dated, old-school. Living a life that emulates the character. Over-confident because you don’t believe in the power of change. You’re afraid of it. I know it, Bill. You’re set. You’re old. Yet that is entirely the issue here. Roulette Champion? A person whose every night fate is dictated by a game of chance. It is wasted upon the old. It is wasted upon those who cannot adapt. Who cannot grow.”
“Yet not all is lost for you, Bill. In the enlightening, you can learn. In the violence, you will bleed. In the violence you too, will see what it means to be broken. In the reality that I present to you, your disconnected nature will be exposed. In that exposure, you will be made to understand. You will be made to understand that you are lost. Lost and without direction. The broken are guided. The broken are helped. I am the Messiah for the Broken, Bill. Yet, my Conspiracy is insulted. You stuck your damn nose where it doesn’t belong, and the only thing that will remain, is the carrion I leave. You, will be the carrion that feeds. Not the bird that follows. Traditions must be upheld, and you spit upon them. An old man afraid of change, yet unable to appreciate the traditions laid before them. Mockery, Bill. Mockery.”
Alex smacks the board once more, before turning to face into the flames. Placing his hand above the flickering licks of fire. His eyes fixated, his jaw still clenched. Frustration etched into ever wrinkle and scar. His beard sitting dangerously close to the fire. Moments from being set alight.
“Gambling Bill. Are you a gambling man? I would think so, with how loose you like to play it. Do you know what is interesting, Bill? The Roulette title has changed hands in Las Vegas, more than it has anywhere else in the world. Nevada seems to be a good state for it, wouldn’t you say? It makes sense, doesn’t it? The belt of chance, to change hands in the city that is known for it. Reno will be the home of our battle this time. Not quite the same feeling, is it? Yet the reality maintains. Nevada is a state that demands change, Bill. It’s unfortunate for you, that will be a victim of the odds. I’ve made clear, since day one. I do not gamble. I ensure victory. You ruined my victory, and now I will pay you back for it. I will put you down, Bill. I will ensure that you fall beneath the boot. Violence, Bill. Violence.”
“Are you listening to me, Bill? Do you understand what I’m telling you? You are a bitch that needs to be neutered Bulldog. Regardless of the stipulation, regardless of what we must do. I will put you down, over and over. I will blood you if I so well deem it necessary. I don’t intend to be quick about it. I don’t intend to be civil. This isn’t a matter of a man versus a man in a wrestling match. You made this personal by breaking a silent truth. You made this personal by sticking your nose into my damn business. Scared, Bill. That’s what Knox called you. Scared. You know what? He’s damn right too. You’re damn scared of me Bill, and you and I both know it. Behind the bravado and bluster. Behind the arrogance and confidence. Behind the old thinking, is one truth. You’re afraid that you can’t keep up, and it’s true. You can’t keep up with me Bill. There is no gamble here. There is one damn truth. The Broken Messiah is going to break the Bulldog.”
”It’s time to go to sleep, puppy.”
His shoe pressed to the barrel that contained the flickering inferno, kicking it forward. Flames leapt across the grass and engulfed the whiteboard. The flames devouring the board instantly. The words violence glowing as it began to melt and warp under the intense heat.
“We’re going down in flames Bill. I hope you’re ready. I’m going to break you. Neuter you, take everything you love.”
“And then.”
“I’m going to burn you the fuck down.”
Darkness.
Silence.
Broken
Scene Three | On-Camera | 12/01/2022
“I’ve been thinking Bill. I’ve been thinking a lot actually. Weeks I’ve had to stew on this. Weeks I’ve thought about every which way I intend to hurt you. That I intend to pay you back. That I intend to show you, your failure. My friend, James, he’s giving me some advice. Some advice I may need to follow. Some advice I think I will follow. To walk that line. To acknowledge who I am in that ring and who I am, outside of it. To acknowledge both Raven and Rabenschwarz. The issue Bill, is that, I can’t tell them apart myself anymore. James can’t separate himself from the Barracuda, in the same way that I can’t separate myself from the rage.”
“Raging Raven. Anger incarnate some had dubbed me. I never liked that term. Rage and anger, are two similar but different things. Anger is directed. Controlled, and accessible. Rage is an insatiable feeling. A boiling, bubbling, fiery inferno of feeling that rips through you from the depths of your very being. Do you understand rage and anger? I hope so. I need you to understand the difference, because it’s important to differentiate. I need you to understand that I’m bring to Inception isn’t controlled. It isn’t focused. It’s insatiable. It’s a necessity. It’s a force. It’s what breaks me, and in turn breaks those that stand against me. Disconnected from reality as we both are, you would understand this better than any other Bulldog.”
You will fall. You will collapse. You will feel the pressure of my rage. My Conspiracy will descend upon you, and it’s a feeling you cannot be ready for. Anyone can deal with a hostile crowd. It’s an existence we become used to. The reality however, is my Conspiracy are filled with the same rage. Like me, all that follow are broken. They look to me for guidance. They look to me, for understanding. They look to me, because I can lead the broken and disconnected. The unhinged and the rage filled. The Conspiracy are always at my back, ready to follow. Ready to hear what I can tell them. Ready to listen. To understand.”
“Are you listening?”
”Do you understand?”
“I cannot fail anymore, Bill. I don’t have the forgiveness for myself to do it again. This isn’t just a feeling of want or desire. This is a necessity at this point. A necessity to prove to everyone that I am who I say I am. That Alexander Raven is the Broken Messiah for a god damn reason. It’s been a long time since I’ve worn gold around my waist. The last time, I was the inaugural champion. The first ever. I’m a two time world champion, a former SOLO tag team champion. I rose from the ashes, and stitched my flesh back together. I rent a man’s flesh so heavily that he leaked his own god damn grey matter into the ring. What have I done since? Lost my chance at becoming the inaugural champion again, to a man who should have been locked up. Cheated out of a victory of being a double inaugural champion by a mouth little bitch, who couldn’t dust my boots when we finally squared off.”
“I earned my opportunity to fight you with a goddamn slingblade, Bill. Do you understand the damn ineptitude of someone to go down to a slingblade? Yet it proves something else. I don’t need to choke you out. I don’t need to hit the Raven’s Spine. I can beat you, with a slingblade. Hell, I could beat you, with a headlock takeover. Yet that’s not the point is it, Bill? No, the point is to hurt you. The point is to ruin you. The point is to make sure you regret having ever stuck your damn nose into my business. The point is to break and leave you to feed my Conspiracy. The carrion to my flock of Ravens. I will break you Bill, and that isn’t an empty threat. That isn’t a lie. That isn’t a mockery. It’s a truth. I am the Broken Messiah, and I will ensure you are broken. Your second defense, will be your last. I will put you down, and I will reign supreme. I am, the future Roulette Champion. You’re nothing but a roadblock.”
I will break you.”
“I will burn you down.”
Glass Raised
Scene One | Off-camera | 16/01/2022
"Forgive me Father, for I shall sin."
A man lost in his thoughts, eyes fixated on the green tinged bottle sitting in front him. The smell of hops wafting up from the neck, two fingers loosely wrapped around its neck. The light chatter of a bar in the background. His back to the world, facing a blank wall. The heavy hand of another slapping down on his shoulder. The cool smile, the strong scent of cigarettes and bad decisions. A loose singlet hanging off this person's frame as he took a seat opposite Alex.
"Doomer Boomer got you thinking too heavy rockstar. Head up, bottles back and drink with me. Escape the reality for a minute. Escape the world, sugar."
"Do you think he yells at busy bartenders when they don't serve his pompous ass at the click of his figners? I bet he yells at fast food workers when his meals are wrong too."
James' raucous laughter filled the air. Loud, happy and full of actual humour. It wasn't often James was really this loose. He was as reserved and tightly coiled as Alex was. Maybe the change in lifestyle had really done him well. The 6'4" slim and toned man that was James Pasilno commanded attention wherever he went. Powerful features, a booming voice, loud laughter and a diamond shattering stare. Tonight he was loose and happy. Tonight he was just his friend. No barracuda, just James. His best friend.
"You know, I think you might be right there Ravey. If you don't lay his old ass out come Sunday, I can always flatten him in the pub. Drink up. We party tonight."
James touched the rim of his glass to Alex's raised bottle. The both of them knocking them back, drinking the fluids down. Alex looked around the bar, his mind floating back to the earlier years. When the three of them were making their mark. Leon and James. He idolised them, both in life and in the ring. Leon reminded him a lot of himself. Abusive father, anger problems. Mainly difference being, Leon didn't channel his. He just hurt people. Everyone and anyone who gave him the wrong look. In and out of prison, probably still with warrants out. Alex had never really asked. He didn't want to ruin James' good mood, but he wanted to know.
James caught the look in Alex's eyes and sighed. Throwing up a signal to the barstaff, 'on it', echoing from the bar as he did. James drained the last of his bourbon, and placed the glass back on the table. One hand falling to his side, the other resting upon a leg. A foot resting upon the stool's rest.
"I should've killed him, Alex. I wanted to. I was gonna blow him backwards. I put him down, and I made sure he knew who had done it. I put him down, rockstar, and I don't regret it. Leon was a hazard, and he was gon' hurt you and me. He was gon' get us in some major shit. I put him down, but I shoulda put him in the ground. I don't know where he is these days. Probably screwin' someone else's life up. I don't really care, sugar. I really don't. You done right by me, Alex. You done right by me, and I'll do right by you. You fall again, I ain't picking you up. I'll break the bitch who ruins you. I swear on it brother. You can bank on it."
A server placed two glasses of amber liquid in front of them. Neat doubles. Two shots of silver tequila. Espolon was James' go to drink of regret. James' hard face faded almost instantly. The depth of the conversation seemingly slipping from his mind instantly. A smile stretching again, as he picked up the shot glass and nodded at Alex.
"Mazel tov."
"Salud."
Shots up, back and down. The harsh burn still turned his face sour. The raucous laughter echoing once more as the hard hand came down on his shoulder once more. He didn't need to ask, and Alex no longer wanted to know. Leon was as good as dead to James, and that's a scary place to be. Not much in this world made him worried, but James. James could scare him. He couldn't ask for a better friend.
Old Men Deserve Nothing
Scene Two | On-Camera | 18/01/2022
"The absolute dribble that spills from your mouth, Bulldog. Do you listen to yourself, when you speak? Do you actually hear the crap that you spew? The only scammer here, is you. The only one living a lie, is you. The one one being exposed come Inception V, is you, Bulldog. When the bitch is neutered she becomes complacent. When the male is knackered, he loses his bite. You never had the balls to lose in the first place though, did you Bill? It takes a brave old man to distract someone. It takes a brave old man, to yell at a person down the phone. It takes a brave old man, to think any person gives a flying damn what he thinks. I know the truth though, Bill. We all can see the truth hidden behind your bravado and bluster. Fear, Bill. Fear. Knox said it, I know it, and we can all see it. You're a scared old man, who is afraid he can't keep pace with the world that is evolving around him."
Alexander Raven, pinstripe blue suit, tan brown shoes. A white shirt, and a crimson red tie. Sitting in the front pew of a small church. Long since desolate, empty and hollow. Upturned pews, leaves and dust covering the surfaces. A small hole in the roof allowing natural sunlight to stream in. Alex's fingers laced together in a type of prayer. Eyes closed, forehead resting upon his hands.
"Forgive me, Father. For I shall sin."
"Bill Barnhart. It's a name that speaks to the era of birth. The Bulldog, Bill Barnhart. A man who likely screams at young teens working their first job. A man who thinks it's at all respectable to belittle and insult people doing their job. A person who thinks that any of the scam callers are actually going to be punished by the law. Ignorance. Bill thinks himself smart because he knows they are scams. Yet the biggest scam, is the Bulldog's bite. All gum and no teeth. Jowls shaking and drooling, yet nothing of consequence. A boulder barreling, yet nothing happening between the ears. Ignorance is not bliss in this case Bill. Ignorance is the fuel. Ignorance is what makes the inferno leap. Your ignorance is disturbing my bliss. Your ignorance is causing your fear. Collapse is coming, Bill. The beating that Mac Bane put on you, will be nothing compared to the beating I have for you. Short work? Bill, I've never been anything but the mountain that cannot be toppled. I am the immovable object. I need you to listen to me, Bill. I really need you to focus and understand. I need you to realise what I'm telling you. Are you listening? Are you following?"
"Do you understand me, Bill?"
Alex's eyes begin to twitch slightly, his nose flaring. Irritation rolling across his face. Slowly raising to his feet, hands separating, a cigarette sliding from his inner breast pocket, the click of a lighter. The flame igniting the tobacco, the ember flaring. The irritation flaring more. A guttural scream of frustration, spinning and kicking the pew, knocking it backwards and upturning it. The screech of heavy wood on old creaky boards.
"Are you listening to me, Bill?"
"I need you to god damn listen to me. Scammers, Reps, other wrestlers. I am nothing like any of them. I am not like Mac Bane who put you in your place. I am nothing like the nobodies I put down to get here. The ones that I beat with a goddamn slingblade. Senility fading your memory I take it Bill. I made that match a triple threat. I'm the reason. I ensure the odds are in my favour, because I do not gamble. I play to win, and I ensure victory is always mine. You stuck your damn nose into my business. You wobbled out to the ring to distract me, not because you wanted a closer look. Because you were damn scared. The fear emanates from within you Bill, I can see it. I can feel it. You're nothing but a scared, old man. You talk about an 'inner demon'? Horseshit. Own your own god damn anger Bill. Acknowledge who the hell you are. Acknowledge the fear and anger. Acknowledge that you hide behind a mask, and call it something else to justify it. Fraud? The only fraud here Bill, is you. A man of analogy aren't you? I'm not one for analogy. I'm not one for metaphor. I make it pretty damn clear what I mean, Bill. When I say, the bitch is getting neutered, I mean it. I'm going to break you, Bill. You'll have wished the doctor had worked on you harder. You'll have wished that Mac Bane put you down for good, because I will."
Alex began tugging at his tie, slowly loosing it from his neck. Undoing the button of his jacket, slowly pulling it free from his body, folding it over an arm. The tie being hastily stuffed into his left front pocket. The cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, as he began to pace the floor slowly. The tap of his shoes echoing in the empty halls.
"Nobody listens, do they? I don't know how many times I can reiterate this. Maybe I should make a damn shirt out of it. Whatever it takes to make this sink in. I will do anything it takes to get what I want, Bill. You're in my crosshair, because you hold gold. You hold a championship, and I need it. In any possible scenario, I walk out the victor. Do you know why, Bill? You should by now. There is no perceivable situation in which your scared, old ass can keep pace with me. Can match me blow for blow. There is no perceivable situation in which you can inflict enough pain to make me submit. There is no situation in which I lose, because you cannot step to the plate. You'll hide behind your delusions. Behind your disconnected reality. You'll continue to believe the lies you spew, because you have nothing else. I'm going to remind you one more time, Bill. Remind you of the man I am. Remind you of the lengths I'll go to, to win. Remind the world of who I am."
A large cloud of smoke exhaled.
Grainy, noisy.
The click of footage.
The blacked out window behind the podium suddenly filled with an image. A ring, a much younger Alexander Raven and another man standing in it.
'We have brand new UECW Tag Team champions! Alexander Remington and his new protégé Alexander Raven!' a voice echoes, the cheering of a crowd. The two men holding their new gold aloft, smiles spread across their faces. The steel chair still in Raven's hand. Remington's back to him. The belt dropped and the chair gripped tightly. Crack. The sound of metal against flesh, as Remington's head was met with the chair. Then again. His body slumping to the mat. The chair coming down again, and again, and again. The bloodlust in his eyes, the blood starting to leak out onto the mat.
'What the hell is Alexander Raven doing? They just won the championships?! What the hell is going on?'
The steel chair dropped, Remington's body twitching unconscious on the mat. Sliding from the ring, grabbing another belt, a second plate of gold. Alexander Raven picking up the two tag title belts in the other hand. A booing crowd, ravenous and aggressive. Alexander Raven standing over the unconscious body in the ring, holding the two tag team titles, and the big gold belt, the UECW title above his head.
"I respected that man. I still do, respect that man. He guided me when I was lost. He guided me to a place of success, and I cannot ever thank him enough. One day, we will bury the hatchet one last time. Be it with my blood or his, is irrelevant Bill. We will end it one day, and that's why I know this one truth. You cannot beat me, and you will not. I did that to a man I respected. A man I had just won gold with. A man who took me to new heights quicker than anyone ever would have expected. A man of ambition and focus. A man with a plan. My mentor, Bill. If I'm willing to nearly kill him, what the hell do you think I'll do to you, when you stand in my way? I need you listen to me, Bill. This is me, Alexander Rabenschwarz talking directly to you. This isn't Broken Messiah leading the broken, my conspiracy. My conspiracy will feast upon you, this I know. Right now though, Bulldog. I'm talking to you directly from my heart. Are you listening?"
"Are you listening to me, Bulldog?"
"Reality is fickle Bill. We're all disconnected from it. My reality is a shattered world, disconnected. Your reality is one surrounded by walls of fear. Refusal to expand, refusal to move forward. I will break you, Bill. I will put you down and I will take that championship. Not because I want to, because I need to. You insulted me, on a very direct level. You think you can expose me, Bill? Make short work of me? I'm going to expose you as the scared, old man you are. I'm going to exorcise your inner demon, and put you down. The history books will read. 'Alexander Raven ended Bill Barnhart's career at Inception V to become the new Roulette Champion.' Wherever the wheel lands, doesn't matter. This isn't a game of chance Bill, this a cold hard truth. A true reality. I don't respect you Bill. Not now, and not ever. You can spew your analogies. You can spew your truth. You can yell at poor men in desolate conditions who turn to scamming to try and make a living. You can scream at the sales reps trying to bring you to the modern day all you like. You can pretend as much as you want that anything you do matters. I need you to understand this. I'm going you burn you down."
Throwing his jacket and tie to the floor, he takes his lighter to them. The fabric almost instantly going up in flames. The old creaky wood quickly absorbing the flames. The crackle of flames, as Alexander begins to walk away. The spread almost instant, accelerant clearly at play. The church going up in flames. The pews snapping and breaking.
"At Inception Bill. I'm not just going to neuter the bitch. I'm going to put the dog down. Rabid dogs cannot be allowed to hurt others. Did you understand Bill? Did you listen?"
"Have you followed?"
Large flames, the crackle of a raging inferno. Burning, the ghostly wails, distant, of men and women.
And then.
Darkness.
Silence.