King for a day?  Yea, right.  More like JOKE for a day.  The Modern Day Crusader found himself ambushed by derision at Climax Control.  Despite his instincts going against the bestowed path awarded, The Crusader forged ahead.  He was playing the game.  SCW’s game.  It was his way of infiltrating the system with his serum of truth.  Sadly, his instincts proved to be true.  Besmirched at the gate on live television!  The Modern Day Crusader looked like a joke, a fool, a barb a…dare I say it…CONSPIRACY THEORIST.

This required atonement.  The Modern Day Crusader’s image needed patchwork ASAP.  A powder keg of elixir destined to propel The Crusader back to the upper echelon of SCW.

What could this elixir be?  Where, oh where would The Modern Day Crusader find such a potent potion?  There were no mega shows in the near future.  No title shots within sight.  All appeared to be lost.

Alas!  The Modern Day Crusader is, after all, KING for a day.  While it might not have been yesterday, the title remains true for tomorrow.  With this power comes great responsibility.  The responsibility to promote oneself into prime position.  The opportunity to snare the ever elusive atonement.  The opportunity to cleanse all strains of muck away from a once burgeoning image.

The Modern Day Crusader used (some might say abused) his bestowed power and booked himself in a match against the leading in-ring force of SCW.  The Modern Day Crusader twisted the narrative, placing his name at the top of the marquee against Calvin Harris.

A man of humility, The Modern Day Crusader understood that this abuse of power was unbecoming.  He didn’t want to emulate those he loathed.  Therefore, he requested the match be a Non-Title contest.  Calvin’s prestigious title would not be on the line.

You see, The Modern Day Crusader isn’t after gold – not yet.  He’s after notoriety.  He’s after recognition.  He desires a dash of Febreze to smother the stank of yesterday’s embarrassment.

Half of the task has already been completed.  Now for the second portion.  This portion will be far tougher than the former.  The Modern Day Crusader must defeat Calvin Harris.

A return to the states, The Modern Day Crusader entered into the Camp of Truth with an air of defeat.  Sulking, he trudged past several of the withheld crusaders, those left behind to tend to the camp while the others toured the continent of Australia.  In unison, they held their tongues, wary that a cross word could draw the unwanted ire of their crestfallen leader.

“What a waste.”

The Modern Day Crusader tore away his kingly glove, hurling it into a nearby fire.  Slowly, the shimmer began to dull as nature’s heat eroded what was once an eye catching accoutrement.  The Modern Day Crusader watched the erosion.  Glitter turned to gray, gray turned to black before black turned to ash.

“You see that?” he pointed.

“See and smell,” Crusader 1 replied.

“That right there is our message, currently.  We’ve yet to make a dent, Crusader 1.  This King for a Day was supposed to provide a platform high enough where our voice would echo throughout the masses.  Instead – instead, we were a laughing stock on Sunday.  I’m beginning to think this entire foray is all for naught.”

The glove singed away, leaving nothing behind but darkened particles destined to be carried by an incoming gust of forgotten wind.  

“I wouldn’t put so much stock into one encounter, sir.  Sure, it wasn’t optimal.  However King for a Day has provided us with the luxury of facing SCW’s most notable wrestler.”

“True.”

“Calvin Harris, the SCW champion.  If you defeat him, people will stand and take notice.  That, I promise you.”

The Modern Day Crusader, proving he was no pyromaniac, turned his attention away from the fire and toward a bunch of snake carcasses drying out in the arid climate.  He snared one and tore into it like a long, chewy strip of jerky.  With a half-smile, he turned to Crusader 1.

“Tell me about this Calvin Harris.”

“Well, he’s the SCW World Champ…”

Silence.  It was apparent the crusaders were ignorant in regards to Calvin Harris and his SCW accomplishments, save his current title reign.

“Oh, wait!” Crusader 1 yelled.

“Yes?”

“He’s a heel!”

“A heel?  What is a heel?”

“Professional wrestling nomenclature for bad guy, sir.”

“Oh, so I must be a toe, then.”

More silence.  While not entirely sure what the professional wrestling nomenclature for good guy was…everyone in camp, save The Modern Day Crusader, was pretty sure it wasn’t toe.

“Yea, we can go with that,” Crusader 1 appeased his delicate leader.

“Excuse me…” a foreign voice breathed life into the dying conversation.  It belonged to a fellow crusader.

“Yes, Crusader 19.”

“I think I have a little insight into Calvin Harris.”

“Really?”  The Modern Day Crusader stepped forward, gripping Crusader 19 by the shoulder.  â€œSpeak on, tell us more about this…this…Calvin Harris.”

“Well…” Crusader 19 stammered.  He didn’t appear to be very bright.  You know the type.  Something about the eyes.  Just not a lot going on behind them.  However, he seemed to have enough confidence to voice his opinion – which is more than most.  â€œI believe he has a habit of urinating on public property.”

“WHAT?!”  The Modern Day Crusader was appalled.  â€œTell me more of this devilry.”

“Well…again, if I’m remembering my secunar life…”

“Secular.”

“Yes, sorry sir…secular life.  If I’m remembering my secular life correctly, then I remember images of Calvin Harris on the back of cars.  A stream of urine spraying from his, well, his pelvic region while he turns around, smiling.”

“My goodness.”  The Modern Day Crusader released his passive, aggressive grip of Crusader 19’s shoulder.  He stared into the waning sky.  His head shook.  â€œIt looks like this situation is direr than we imagined, crusaders.  This Calvin Harris is not only a public urinate…he’s not only a miscreant…but he’s some type of cult leader!”

A collective gasp filled the tenuous air.  The Camp of Truth was stunned.  

“We have got to track down one of these brain washed followers of Calvin Harris.  It’s our only way of obtaining valuable information on this Calvin Harris.  Valuable information about their leader will go a long way in assuring victory.”

The Camp of Truth rallied behind their leader’s cry.  It had the potential to be a twofold victory.  A win would not only propel The Modern Day Crusader into SCW prominence – it would also help stymie the machinations of a cruel, prank playing cult leader.

A small cabal of crusaders lingered on the fringe of wilderness.  A small, two lane road gashed through nature providing steady, albeit fairly light traffic.  The Modern Day Crusader, Crusader 1, Crusader 19 and a few unnamed crusaders crouched in wait.

Suddenly, a puff of smoke rose in the distance.

“There it is!” the Modern Day Crusader pointed, “the sign!”

Crusader 1 nodded toward the unnamed crusaders.  They hopped onto the road and lay down on the pavement, pretending to be in need of assistance.  

“Any minute now,” The Modern Day Crusader assuaged the group’s uncertainty.  He was ironclad in his belief that a Calvinized vehicle would be rounding the corner any second.

Seconds turned to minutes, time crawled by.  Crusader 1 released a heavy sigh.  â€œI’m going to check on them.”

“Wait, just one more minute, I’m sure…”

“Sir, it’s been nearly five minutes.  Our covered wagon would be a half mile past us by now.”

The Modern Day Crusader nodded, “Good point.  We need to be sure and slow our pace.  A speeding covered wagon can be highly dangerous.”

“Sure.  Anyway, I’m going to see what that smoke signal was about.”

Crusader 1 hustled away.  The two crusaders on the pavement sat up, looking toward the brush.

“Can we get off the road now?”

“No!”

“Oh, okay.”  They returned to their original positions.

“Crusader 19, tell me more about this Calvin Harris.”  Looking to pass the time, The Modern Day Crusader sought further information about the SCW World Champion AND active cult leader.

“Well…he’s pretty mischievous.  Always playing pranks in the newspaper.”

“The newspaper?”

“Yea, that’s where he gained most of his fame.  I’m going to guess that was before his wrestling career.  I mean, he was pretty young in those days.”

“How young?”

“A kid, sir.”

“Ah, a natural born criminal.  Those are the worst, Crusader 19.  Can you tell me anything else?”

“He has a pet tiger, I think.”

“What?!”

“Yea, a pet tiger, I’m sure of it now.  I can see the tiger in the newspaper with him.”

“Does this tiger accompany him to the ring?”

“I…I don’t think so.  But I wouldn’t really know.  This is the first time I’ve left the Camp of Truth in over a year and, well, we don’t have any television back at the camp.”

“For good reason, Crusader 19.  Don’t you ever forget that.”

“Never, sir.”

Crusader 1 reappeared, breathing hard.  The Modern Day Crusader waited, impatiently.

“Well?”

In between pants, Crusader 1 replied, “They just wanted to know how much longer we were going to wait out here.”

“Idiots.”

“To be fair, we have been out here for nearly three hours.”

“Answer me this, Crusader 1.  What are three measly hours in the grand scheme of things?  And, by grand scheme I mean the saving of society?”

“Alright, I get it.  I told them to stay put and to only release the smoke if they see a Calvin Harris disciple.”

“Good.”

So they continued to wait.  The Modern Day Crusader anticipated a short siege.  Based on the intonation within Crusader 19’s declaration, he assumed these ‘Calvin Harris’ stickers were in abundance.  The idea that they might be forced to wait awhile never entered his overactive mind.

Another hour passed.

“Look!” one of the random crusaders shouted.  They had at some point over the previous hour removed themselves from the road and back into the foliage.  A puff of smoke appeared in the sky.  The Modern Day Crusader lit up like a flash bulb.

“This has got to be it!  Crusaders, back into position!”  

The two crusaders hustled into the road, re-assuming their vulnerable positions.  With baited breath, they waited.  Much like before, they were greeted with silence.  The Modern Day Crusader turned toward Crusader 1.

“What’s the deal?”

Crusader 1 replied,” I’ll go find out.”

Crusader 1 scurried off.  The two crusaders started to sit up.  The Modern Day Crusader shout whispered over the road, “STAY DOWN!”  They went back to their stretched out positions.

“This is getting ridiculous,” The Modern Day Crusader complained.  With his hands atop his hips, he shook his head and looked at Crusader 19.  â€œYou’re sure about this sticker?”

“Absolutely, sir.   I remember seeing it on multiple occasions.  Very vulgar.  My mother hated it.”

“It sounds like the stuff of nightmares, Crusader 19.  I only hope we aren’t too late.  I’ve been hearing about this microchip that people are putting into their debit cards.  Perhaps these stickers have been turned into chips as well.”

“That would be terrible.”

“Indeed.”

Crusader 1 bounded through brush, panting much like before.  â€œSo, what’s the deal?” The Modern Day Crusader asked.  Crusader 1 doubled over, placing his hands atop his knees.  He gasped for air.  â€œWe’ve got to up your cardio, Crusader 1.”  Crusader 1 nodded, unable to argue that point.

“They were just wondering when we were gonna call it a day,” Crusader 1 finally found enough oxygen to put a coherent sentence together.

“Impatient fools.  You go and tell them we will be here until one of these hedonistic stickers travels down this very road.”

Crusader 1 looked up at his leader with dread in his eyes.  â€œDoes that mean I have to head back over there?”

“I’m afraid so.”

About to throw something resembling a fit, the sound of a roaring engine stole their attention.  It was coming from the opposite way.  

“Did we have smoke signalers over there, sir?”

“Uh, no.”  The Modern Day Crusader felt slightly stupid.  He forgot the road ran both ways.

The two crusaders remained in the road, determined to perform their task.  A mid-nineties truck rounded the corner.  The vehicle roared at a tremendous speed.  Crusader 1’s eyes widened.

“Sir.”  He tugged at his leader’s arm.  â€œSir!”  He continued to try and grab his leader’s attention.  The Modern Day Crusader was too busy trying to fathom how they overlooked the other side of the road.  â€œSIR!!!”

Finally, The Modern Day Crusader looked toward Crusader 1, “WHAT?!”

“The crusaders in the road, they are going to be crushed!”

“By jiminy, you are right!  Get out of the road my little crusaders!”  The two crusaders looked at one another, unsure if this was some sort of test.  They remained planted.  The truck continued to roar down the road, nearing their bodies.

“That truck isn’t stopping, sir.”

“Well, Crusader 1, somebody needs to stop it.”

“I’m glad you’re willing to step up for the team, sir…a true leader.”

The Modern Day Crusader threw Crusader 1 into the road.  He stumbled in front of the two vulnerable crusaders.  Horror filled his body as he found himself in between the truck and the crusaders.  He thrust both arms forward and screamed.

“STOP!  PLEASE!!!”

Tires screeched against pavement.  Smoke shot out from behind the vehicle.  The truck nearly spun out of control.  The Modern Day Crusader’s vision was blurred.  Smoke filled the entire scene.  He coughed, fighting through the rubber scented fog.  He reached the scene.

“Anybody hurt?”

“No,” an agitated Crusader 1 responded.  He stood, alongside both nameless crusaders.

“Great, I guess we’d better check on this driver.”

“SIR!” Crusader 19 called out from within the fog.  The Modern Day Crusader fought through the fog, finding his stirred follower.  A hand pointed at the back window of the trick.

There it was.

The image of Calvin pissing.

Crusader 1 saddled up alongside his leader.  At first, he didn’t understand what had snared the awe of his leader.  He took a glance for himself and his mouth fell open.

“This is a sign, crusaders.”

Nobody could argue with their leader.  

“Now, we need to do what’s right.  We need to act in a toe like manner, as good guys.  We need to help whoever helms this vehicle.  So, I say we do what any Good Samaritan would do.”  The Modern Day Crusader paused before continuing, “Yank them out of the vehicle, bound them with rope and drag them to camp where we will tie them to a tree and interrogate them in an aggressive manner until they spill the proverbial beans.”

“Yes sir!” the crusaders replied.

The body of a skinny, shapeless man in his late thirties has been tied to the base of a large tree.  Duct tape covered his mouth.  Whatever shirt the man may have been wearing had long since been removed.  His scrawny, flat chest featured a few black, scraggly hairs.  The Modern Day Crusader looked down upon the man with disgust.  Crusader 19, standing behind, held a pair of tweezers.

“Okay, I’m going to ask once more…what is your leader’s weakness!”

“I…” the man looked around for help.  He truly had no idea what was going on.  â€œI don’t know?”

“Crusader 19!”

Crusader 19 stepped forward and plucked a hair from the man’s chest.

“AHHHH!!!”

Several crusaders looked away with one noting, “This is too much.  Too much!”

The Modern Day Crusader crept forward.  The tortured man’s head faced the ground.  He wheezed, his chest heaved – he was under a great deal of duress.  The Modern Day Crusader bent his knees and looked up, into the man’s eyes.

“You have at least fifty hairs remaining.  That means we can be here all day.  So, just tell me what I need to know in order to defeat Calvin Harris.  There’s no need for you to go through anymore of this punishment.”

“But I don’t know a Calvin Harris…” the man’s words were soaked with desperation.  If only he had known Calvin Harris.  If he had, he would have divulged every tidbit of information, including where Mr. Harris buys his socks.

“Wrong answer you heathen!  Crusader 19!!”

Crusader 19 approached with the tweezers in his hand, ready to clamp and pull another hair.  

“No!  Wait!” the man pleaded.

The Modern Day Crusader thrust his arm forward, palm up, stopping Crusader 19.

“Yes?”

“He…He…he shops at the GAP.”

“The GAP?!”  The Modern Day Crusader looked toward Crusader 1.

“It’s a, I guess you’d call it trendy…a trendy clothing store with cheaply made shirts and jeans and stuff.”

“Hmm…what else?”

The man looked up into the sky, trying to conjure another lie.  â€œHe…he likes McRib.”

“MCRIB?!”  Again, The Modern Day Crusader looked toward Crusader 1.

“It’s a special menu item McDonalds throws out every so often.  Basically a rib smothered in BBQ sauce between two buns.”

“Sounds delightful.”

“Well, until you realize it’s either fake as hell or McDonalds breeds cows with chewable bones.”

“What?  They chew the bone?”  This caught The Modern Day Crusader’s attention.

“Well, yea, you just bite into the sandwich.  The bone doesn’t stop you.”

“My goodness.  They are weakening the bones of animals so they can weaken the bones of men!  Can’t you see?  By distributing this MCRIB to the masses, they are decalcifying the human body.  People’s bones will become brittle and fragile.  We have got to stop this McRib!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Crusader 1 spat back, “slow down, sir.  For starters, McRib is fucking great, okay?  That factoid aside…how about Calvin Harris?”

“What about him?”

“Well, if he’s eating McRibs all the time, wouldn’t HE have weakened bones?”

The Modern Day Crusader stood upright and pondered the notion.  His eyes lit up, “Well done, Crusader 1!  You are spot on!  We now know his weakness!  He has weak bones!”

The prisoner released a massive sigh of relief.  A tear slid down his cheek – freedom was within sight.  He began to sob, lightly.  The Modern Day Crusader gave him a healthy pat on the chest, “Chin up, sir!  You have performed a great service to society!”

Instinctively, The Modern Day Crusader balled up his hand, snaring what remained of the man’s chest hair.  He yanked his arm away and, in doing so, tore the rest of the man’s hair from his chest.

“AHHHHH!!!”

The Modern Day Crusader’s back was to the man.  Upon hearing the scream, he deduced, “You see?  Shouts of joy over his contribution.  Untie him, Crusader 1 and indoctrinate him into the Camp of Truth.  I think we have just discovered a new crusader!”

With the sun set, night descended upon the Camp of Truth.  A fire provided natural illumination as several crusaders hopped around it, chanting incantations while the former Calvin Harris follower drank libations from a wooden bowl.

The Modern Day Crusader stood in the distance with Crusader 1, witnessing the man’s cleansing.  

“It’s a beautiful thing, Crusader 1…to save a man from the cultish, nefarious world beyond these borders.”

“Sure is, sir.”

“Tomorrow you will teach me these submission moves, okay?”

“Sure.  The Boston Crab, Sharpshooter, Camel Clutch…all of that stuff.  If Calvin Harris has McRib-like bones, those moves will surely destroy him.”

“Tremendous work, Crusader 1.  My only concern now surrounds this tiger of his.  Do you think the tiger will be an issue?”

“I’m pretty sure any and every law in regards to events hosted inside public venues prohibits tigers.”

“Well, let’s hope so.  It would make sense…UNLESS the lawmakers are Calvin Harris followers.”

“Sir!” one of the crusaders shouted, standing over the kneeling, former Calvin Harris follower.

The Modern Day Crusader approached, he placed his hand on the man’s forehead.  â€œDo you, former heathen of the secular world denounce all former practices and swear to follow my lead, no matter what?”

“Yes!”

“And do you, former heathen of the secular world swear to obey the Book of Truth?”

“Yes!”

“Do you, former heathen of the secular world also swear to put forth an honest effort in expanding the Book of Truth for all future followers?”

“Yes!”

“And, finally, do you, former heathen of the secular world denounce Calvin Harris and all his wicked teachings?”

“Hell yes!”

“Alright then, I now pronounce you…Crusader 37!”

The man rose with pride.  He and The Modern Day Crusader hugged.

“Tonight shall be a great night as we celebrate the birth of another brother.  Sunday shall be even greater my fellow crusaders as your fearless leader defeats the SCW World Champion Calvin Harris!”

“HUZZAH!” the crusaders yelled in unison.

And, with that, the party raged on throughout the night.  

 For many years The Modern Day Crusader lived a life of isolation.  After his brief stint in the military followed by his several arrests during public protests, The Crusader decided to get away from it all.  A life off the grid was what he desired.  He came to the insoluble problem surrounding population - all these people and their dumbass ideas - these blind individuals blithely heading toward their demise.

The more he tried to enlighten them, the angrier they became.  Every law designed to imprison his body and mind.  

What was the use?  Why go through all that trouble?  Screw them.  The Modern Day Crusader reached the realization that his life and his alone was worth saving.  So, he took what money he could gather and bought a giant pile of land in the middle of nowhere.

There weren’t any structures on the land.  No water or sewer.  No electricity.  The land was as raw as a person’s ass the morning after a nine dollar all you can eat Mexican buffet.

He jumped in with both feet, determined to live a self-sustained life, free from society’s tyranny.

Fast forward a few decades.  A much older and wiser(?) Modern Day Crusader toils around his land.  A small, functioning, wooden apparatus serves as his abode.  Several gardens surrounding the home provide his food.  Any meat he devours is provided courtesy of the wildlife running in and out of his property.  The man is living his dream.  He relies on nothing, nobody but himself as a means for survival.

That all changed on some arbitrary afternoon.  There are no official ‘days’ in the life of the Modern Day Crusader.  Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays…they do not exist.  Time is simply an unending continuum.  It gets dark, it brightens…it gets dark again and so it goes.  

Anyway, one afternoon while the Modern Day Crusader was penning the latest chapter within his Book of Truth an intruder stumbled onto his grounds.  This was the first time The Modern Day Crusader had experienced human contact in decades.  

Upon hearing sounds of life, The Crusader reached for his gun.  He pointed it in the direction of the noise.  "Sounds like a big one, might eat on this beast for days", he said to himself, peering through the glass lens of his readied weapon.  His finger tightened on the trigger.  He was on the brink of unleashing a hail of gunfire.

That is, until the silhouette of something foreign kept him from firing.  It wasn’t any four legged creature.  Whatever this was…it got around on two legs, a biped!  The Crusader lowered his weapon, dumbstruck.  What the hell was one of THEM doing on his property?

A young, male…early twenties stepped through the foliage.  He instantly recognized the level of danger he had stumbled upon and threw both arms into the air.

“Don’t shoot!”

The Crusader, feeling a sense of power, kept his gun on the target without any intent on firing, “Who are you?  Why the hell shouldn’t I?  Are you one of THEM?”

This didn’t register with the young man.  He wasn’t into conspiracies.  He hadn’t been exposed to any sort of behind the curtain truth.  He was simply living his life.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.  Do you mean a Sabre?  Because, yes, I did graduate from North County High.  I didn’t play any sports so, I guess I’m technically NOT a Sabre but…I suppose that all depends on how seriously you take the moniker.”

“Moniker…”  The Crusader’s mind wandered.  The word struck a chord with him.  â€œSo what you’re saying to me is that you graduated from North County High but REFUSE to be labeled a Sabre?”

The young man was stuck, perplexed.  He paused, he hesitated.  He understood his answer carried a great amount of weight toward the Crusader’s decision.  And, this wasn’t some stupid little decision like where to grab a burger…this had life altering consequences.

“Well boy!  What is it?”  The Crusader demanded.

“I’m NOT a Sabre!” the young man cried out, praying it would prove to be the correct declaration.

The Crusader’s weapon lowered.  His face eased.  A smile damn near crossed his face.  â€œWell I’ll be a monkey’s mistress.  You are seeking the truth just like I am.  You are a non-conformist.  Come on over here, bring it in!”  The Crusader extended both arms.  The young man, very much not wanting to die, carefully walked forward.  He hesitated.

The Crusader realized his gun was largely in the way, “Sorry about that.  Old habits, ya know?”  He swung it to the side and engulfed the young man with the type of hug befitting a family reunion.  The young man looked around, nervously…desperately hoping the embrace would end.

Finally, it did.  The Crusader wiped from under his nose, preventing anyone from being able to notice whether or not the human contact brought about emotion.  â€œLet me show you around,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.  It appeared as though The Crusader was determined to have this guy move in with him.

Much can be said of The Modern Day Crusader.  Sure, he may not shower every week.  He may not be deodorant’s biggest proponent.  The guy’s teeth probably haven’t seen white since middle school.  And, well, his train of thought might be somewhat obtuse…but the man has never lacked charisma.

For reasons unbeknownst to rational logic…The Modern Day Crusader won this young man over.  Within the week, the young man moved onto the land and began helping The Modern Day Crusader live.  At night, The Crusader would educate this young man by reading from the ridiculously large Book of Truth.  It opened the young man’s mind.  He had been exposed to The Crusader’s version of truth.  It made him feel special.  He felt as though he belonged.  

The young man vowed to follow The Modern Day Crusader.  He would follow The Crusader down whatever path was chosen.  It was at this time when the young man gave up his secular name and became Crusader #1.  There were no plans for a Crusader #2.  But, as everyone reading this knows…nothing ever goes to plan.

“I think we should seek more followers,” Crusader 1 mentioned after a night in which The Modern Day Crusader snuggled just a little too close for comfort.  

“And why would we do that?”  The Modern Day Crusader asked with a piece of snake hanging from his mouth.

“Well, you seem pretty passionate about uncovering the truth.  I know you went through some hard times…but wouldn’t it make sense to try and educate as many people as possible.”

The Crusader slurped up the remaining chunk of snake and pondered.  â€œNo…no way.  Those people, the SHEEPLE…they are BLIND…ignorant!  All they will do is laugh and mock.  I’m not going through that again!”  The Crusader stood and turned his back to Crusader 1, leaning against a try, sighing.

“What about me?  I’m an outsider yet here I am…Crusader 1.”

The Crusader lowered his head, “Yea, but you’re different.  You see through the charade.”[/green]

“But if someone like me exists…that means there must be others!  I’m telling you, we could really build something here.  It could do a lot of good…don’t you want to be remembered when you’re gone?”

The Modern Day Crusader rotated, placing his back against the tree.  He looked down at Crusader 1, “I remember when I was like you.  I thought anything was possible.  You’ve got that spark, that initiative.  I won’t suppress it.  If I did…I’d be just like THEM.  If you want to bring people in, fine.  But I ain’t going out there.  That’s your job…but I swear, if you bring any divisive individuals into the Camp of Truth, the experiment is over!”

Crusader 1, overjoyed, hopped to his feet.  The idea of having someone else around was intoxicating.  

It didn’t take long.  Soon, the compound was overflowing with Crusaders.  The count had risen to…let’s say thirty-three.  That’s a good, solid number to be sure.  It would have been thirty-four, but tragedy struck.

It was the summer of 2014.  Heat ravaged the Camp of Truth.  The Modern Day Crusader did what he could to keep the camp unified.  At this point in time, there were seventeen Crusaders.  A giant hole had been carved out and filled with water, serving as a lake.  It was the lone source of ‘cool’ during the wicked heat indexed months.

The Modern Day Crusader had been indulging in a form of invention he deemed villainous – the internet.  At first, he balked at the idea.  However, at the urging of Crusader 1, he decided to take a look.  What he found opened his eyes to more truth than he could have ever imagined.  Soon, The Book of Truth had doubled.

He called it a modern day Bible.  The first half filled with his old truths.  The truths he came to know as a young man, fighting through society.  The second half comprised of new truths.  The truths he had been opened up to at the urging of his new legion of crusaders.  One of those truths – The Ice Bucket Challenge.

The Crusader kept newfound truths to himself.  He was determined to flesh out the entire truth, jot it down in his Book of Truth and come to a point of total understanding before unveiling it to his fellow crusaders.  He always adhered to the famous phrase uttered by Davy Crockett, “Be always sure you're right — THEN GO AHEAD!”

So, while uncovering the ins and outs of various truths, his crusaders would remain unaware.  This had never posed any sort of issue until August 5th, 2014.  

It might have been the hottest day of the year.  The camp was sweltering.  The crusaders trudged along, each wondering when, not if, they’d collapse from heat exhaustion.  

Crusader 8 had been missing most of the afternoon.  That didn’t stir any insecurity amongst his fellow crusaders.  He was known to be somewhat of a loner.  He’d vanish in between chores, wandering toward locations he never revealed.  Enjoying alone time was viewed as a positive in the Camp of Truth.  It meant expanding your mind, thinking freely, without the constant coercion of those around you.

At some point, mid-afternoon The Modern Day Crusader found himself toiling in his vegetable garden.  He stood over his olive tree and explained to the three crusaders around him how vital olives were in life.  He explained the purity of the olive and how nothing nefarious could come from its symbol.  It was at this point when he heard some cheering in the background.

“What in tarnation is going on over there?” He asked, turning around and following the noise.  

Crusader 8 was seated in a chair.  His legs bounced around, giddily.  A fellow crusader stood over him with a bucket in his hand.  

“Alright, I’m officially challenging Crusaders 13, 3, and…7, yea, we’ll go with 7!”  He turned and nodded toward the crusader standing over him.  

“NO!!!” The Modern Day Crusader yelled, sprinting in their direction.  Alas, it was too late.  The bucket was overturned and several pounds of ice cold liquid splashed all over Crusader 8.  Cheering ensued…only for a few, brief seconds, until they heard the ululations of their leader.

The Modern Day Crusader fell to his knees.  His forehead kissed the ground.  His fingers gripped the grass.  Crusader 8 noticed the behavior of his leader and asked, “What’s wrong?  It’s just the Ice Bucket Challenge, sir.”

“JUST the Ice Bucket Challenge…” The Modern Day Crusader said, as his mouth was pinned to the ground.  He started to laugh, in an angry manner…..”JUST The Ice Bucket Challenge!”  He stood.  Crusader 8 stood as well, nervously.

“Do you even KNOW what the Ice Bucket Challenge IS?”  Apparently nobody did.  They all stood in church like silence.  â€œOf course you don’t!”

Crusader 8 began to stammer, “Well, I mean, perhaps you could teach me…”

The Modern Day Crusader shook his head in disappointment, “It’s too late for that now.”  He turned toward the other crusaders, “Fellow Crusaders, apprehend this demon instantly!”  Without question, they swarmed.  Crusader 8 took off, sprinting through the forest with several obedient crusaders giving chase.  Crusader 1 lingered.

“I…I don’t get it?” Crusader 1 semi-asked as any normal person would.

Feeling a great amount of weight upon his grizzled shoulders, The Modern Day Crusader shook his head, “It’s my fault, really.  I withheld pertinent information that could have spared the life of Crusader 8.”

“His life can still be saved, he isn’t dead yet.”

“To me, he is.”  The Modern Day Crusader stared into the sky.  He quickly turned his head away, wincing.  â€œDamnit, I thought those clouds were still covering the sun!”  He rubbed his slightly burnt ocular sockets.  Tears formed, most likely due to the enlightened trauma.  However, The Crusader played it off as though it were emotion for a soon-to-be fallen comrade.

“The Ice Bucket Challenge isn’t what it seems.”

“Oh, how so?” Crusader 1 asked.

“You see…”

The Modern Day Crusader’s mind began to wander.  It dove deep into his imagination.

Our view follows The Modern Day Crusader’s mind down the deep, strange rabbit hole.

We cut to a dark, cave like room.  Some sort of nefarious incantation is being chanted by a group of individuals.  They all bow to a stage where a thick, beast of a person stands, wearing horns for a hat.  The leader’s face has red paint.  Their eyes seem to be yellowed by off putting contacts.  They open their mouth, revealing their identity.

“My fellow Satanists, we have reached a decision that will increase our numbers dramatically!”  The followers grunt and cheer in a very off putting manner.  But that’s not the big reveal.  No, the big reveal is that the leader of the satanic cult is, in fact…OPRAH.

Oprah motions for Lady Gaga to step onto the stage.  She appears timid which, I guess would be a normal reaction given the atmosphere.  â€œLady Gaga desires to become the number one musician on the planet.  She has gone so far as to request a super bowl halftime performance.  Well, in order for that to take place, you must be baptized in the name of SATAN!  Can you handle it?  Or will this be another Bad Romance?  We’ll see if you truly have a pokerface!  Bring upon the holy, iced water!”

The rabid followers go crazy…they chant “ICE! ICE! ICE!”  Lady Gaga is nervous.  Her feet bounce rapidly against the stage floor.  JACK BLACK is holding the bucket…which suddenly explains his popularity.  His weak, chubby arms have trouble holding the bucket filled with water.

“Lady Gaga, before being baptized in the name of Satan, you must issue a challenge to three other individuals…who will you name?” Oprah demands in the form of a question.

A nervous Gaga responds with three inaudible names.  Oprah is too busy HOGGING the mic for Gaga’s voice to be heard.  Regardless, the answer was satisfactory and Oprah throws a nod to Jack Black.  He pours the ice cold liquid over Gaga’s head.  She gasps for air…the feral Satanists go wild.  

“And this, fellow Satanists will be how we convert people all over the world to our religion…the ONE religion!  So, go home, make videos of the ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE and start a social media movement.  It will be GLORIOUS!”  The crowd goes wild with chants of “OPRAH!  OPRAH!  OPRAH!”

The flashback ends as we’re taken back to a time a few years ago.  

Crusader 1 shook his head, staring into the ground.  The Modern Day Crusader nodded along, understanding Crusader 1’s shock.

“If only we’d known,” Crusader 1 lamented.

“Yes, if only…I will never withhold any information moving forward.  I believe it to be a mannerism learned from years of solitude.  One I will surely break as soon as possible.”

We jump ahead to present day.  The living crusaders stand around the grave of Crusader 8.  Warm water is poured over his grave.

“And that, fellow crusaders, is why we don’t keep secrets.” The Modern Day Crusader advises, clapping the Book of Truth shut.  Crusader 15’s hand shoots into the air.  â€œYes, my brother in truth.”

“Shouldn’t you be on your way to Australia by now?”

“Should I?” The Modern Day Crusader looks to Crusader 1 for clarity.

“Oh, yea!” Crusader 1 snaps back to reality.  â€œYour match…it’s Sunday”

“Crusader 1…” The Modern Day Crusader says in a very condescending, parental tone, “what did I tell you about SECRETS?”

“Given the anniversary of that horrible ice bucket challenge fiasco…it just slipped my mind.  Sorry,” Crusader 1 apologizes.

The Modern Day Crusader is undaunted, “That’s okay.  Working the land, toiling with my hands, feet and mind have kept me sharp.  I know how to survive.  In any form of combat, whether it be jousting, sword fighting, thumb war or wrestling…it’s all a matter of survival.  I have no doubt, given our mission of truth, that I will be victorious.”

We cut to a shot of The Modern Day Crusader, Crusader 1 and a couple of other crusaders aboard a small, wooden vessel.  It’s crossing the ocean, en route to Australia.  The Modern Day Crusader stands atop the bow, hands balled into fists, resting along his hips.  His head is pointed confidently toward the sky.

“Tell me, Crusader 1….tell me more about this Andre fellow,” The Modern Day Crusader inquires, taking a bit of interest into his upcoming match.

“Andre Aquarius, sir.  His name is Andre Aquarius and he…”

“AQUARIUS!  GOOD HEAVENS!”  The Modern Day Crusader’s head snaps to the side, staring at Crusader 1 with wild, passionate eyes.  â€œYou didn’t tell me this fellow was a worshiper of the ZODIAC.  This is horrible news, Crusader 1.  We are stepping into the ring with an evil individual.”

“He could just enjoy the daily blurbs in the local paper,” Crusader 1 defends Andre for reasons unbeknownst to everyone, including Crusader 1.

“I’m sure he does!  We all know newspapers are propaganda.  I have no doubt this Aquarius heathen reads the paper with the voracity of a vampire at a blood bank.”  The Modern Day Crusader shakes his head.  He snaps his fingers, “Bring me the Book of Truth.”

Crusader 1 snares the Book of Truth, which is never outside of arm’s reach.  The Crusader flips to a certain page, “Ah, here we go, the truth behind the Zodiac Killer.  Gather round, crusaders!”

All the crusaders aboard the wooden boat gather.  The boat begins to float aimlessly.

“But we need to keep rowing,” Crusader 1 spouts some logic.

“No destination is safe when the travelers are blinded by deceit!  Remember what happened the last time I withheld some truth?”

“CRUSADER 8!” they all yell.

“Yes, Crusader 8…may his memory continue to serve as a reminder to be forthright…now and forever.” The Crusader clears his throat, “Now, back to the Book of Truth.  Who all remembers the Zodiac Killer?”  Hands go up in the air quickly, aside from one.  It slowly rises, not wanting to be left behind.  â€œGreat.  One of the country’s most prolific killers, The Zodiac Killer was brainwashed by Astrologists.  The idea was to lend credibility to the Astrology Signs in an effort for mind control.”

“Really?” a random crusader asks.  A giant whale breaches, nearly knocking the boat over.  The Modern Day Crusader does not flinch.

“Yes, really.  You see each victim was murdered while doing something that went against their recommended action for that day.  Even if people didn’t realize it…the subliminal message was to follow the zodiacal blurbs or else…you will die.  So, now they write up tasks and obligations meant to denigrate society.  You see crusaders, it’s all about brainwashing the public.”

“Fuck the Zodiac!” a crusader yells.  Others nod in unison.

“We cannot let this Andre Aquarius succeed.  It seems as though this SCW mission is more serious than I initially realized.” The Modern Day Crusader claps the Book of Truth shut.  He yawns, “I’m going to catch some shut eye.  Wake me up when we get there.”

Crusader 1 looks miffed.  They are in a wooden row boat.  It could take WEEKS.  Regardless, he does as he’s told.  Several crusaders grab oars and resume rowing.

A loud horn blares.  Crusader 1 is seen packing everything together.  A giant barge is towing their wooden boat along.  They are nearing the Australian shore.  The other crusaders move about in furtive fashion.  They dare not wake up their leader.  One crusader bangs his shin into the side of the boat.

“Quiet!” Crusader 1 urges, “you know how he feels about modern day technology.  If he knows we were towed all the way in, he’d be furious!”

“How has he slept so long?  Is he okay?” the random crusader ponders.

“Yes, he’s a very deep sleeper, when he sleeps.  This is very common behavior.”

The Modern Day Crusader begins to stir.  Crusader 1 notices and quickly unties the rope connecting them to the barge.  He waves to the giant barge, thanking them for the tow.  They respond by spearing a nearby dolphin.  Crusader 1 motions for the other crusaders to begin rowing, furiously.  They do so.

The Modern Day Crusader opens his eyes.  He stands and stretches.  â€œAhhh, what a rest!  Such respite will come in handy on Sunday!”  He looks around and spots the Australian shore.  â€œI say!  We’re here already?”  He sees the furious rowing.  â€œGreat job crusaders!”

He snares a jug of water, taking a generous sip.  He notices the barge.  â€œDevilish machinery,” he frowns, “I wouldn’t be caught dead on a satanic vessel like that!  Steer clear of those beasts, crusaders!”

Crusader 1 smiles and nods as the other crusaders follow suit, nervously.

The boat makes landfall.  It brushes up easily against the rough, sandy terrain of the Australian coastline.  The Modern Day Crusader, chewing on a fresh tomato and strip of homemade jerky steps off first while his crusaders shoulder the luggage.  Crusader 1, lugging a heavy trunk labeled ‘wrestling stuff’, saddles up alongside his fearless leader, dropping the trunk and taking a breather.

“I really wish we would have packed a vile of Holy Water.  I had no idea the man standing in my way was named Aquarius,” The Modern Day Crusader looks over at Crusader 1, “these secrets have got to stop.”

“It isn’t just Aquarius.”

“Don’t tell me there’s another.  What is it, Crusader 1?  Is it Aries?  Taurus?  Gemini?  Is it Sagittarius?  Please, for the love, tell me it isn’t Sagittarius.”

“Nah, just some guy named Tommy Crimson.”

“Some guy named Tommy Crimson, eh?” The Modern Day Crusader stares into the sky, as though the clouds are about to form a readable pattern.  â€œSounds like a true villain, Crusader 1.  I’m guessing a blood worshiper of some kind.  Perhaps a modern day vampire.”

“I really couldn’t say.  His debut was last week.”

“Answer me this, Crusader 1.  Do these wrestling events…do they take place at night?”

“I believe so.”

“Good heavens!  This man might BE a modern day vampire.  You know vampires exist, right?  They walk around at night, dressed as human beings.  Yep…I’m willing to bet this Tommy Crimson is a modern day vampire.”

Crusader 1 doesn’t know how to respond.  So, The Modern Day Crusader continues, “So you’re telling me I’m facing a member of the Zodiac killing legion along with a modern day vampire?  This is much worse than I thought, crusaders.”  All the other crusaders are gathered around with the luggage off the boat, resting comfortably ashore.  â€œThese poor souls who pay money to watch this wrestling stuff are in true, mortal danger.  It is up to us to show them the light…it is up to us to unveil the truth.”

Crusader 1 looks up at the sky, he winces, “Judging by the sun, it appears we’re already midafternoon.  If our ride doesn’t show up soon we could be in danger of missing Climax Control.”

“CLIMATE CONTROL?!”  The Modern Day Crusader yells out.  â€œWhat kind of organization is this?  Are they apart of HAARP?  Don’t tell me they are involved with CERN?  If so, we are getting in that boat and rowing BACK to the Camp of Truth!”

The crusaders nearly vomit at the idea of immediately rowing back.  Crusader 1 leaps into action, “Oh, definitely not.  Right guys?”

The other crusaders respond, in unison, “Absolutely not!”

The Modern Day Crusader breathes a sigh of relief, “Whew.”

“Besides, it’s CLIMAX Control.”

“Hmm,” The Modern Day Crusader ponders, “I wonder if they are into orgasm manipulation.  We need to do some investigating when we get there.”

The sound of hooves clobbering turf draws their attention.  A horse pulled, covered wagon emerges.  The Modern Day Crusader smiles, “There’s our ride!”

It pulls up with a local Aussie smiling, “It’s great to meet you, Crusader.  I’m so excited for your match!  I hope you win that shot at the Roulette Championship.”

The luggage is nearly fully loaded.  The Modern Day Crusader seems slightly dismayed, “Roulette?  As in GAMBLING?  You know gambling is an evil machination of the government to keep undisciplined people from prospering, right?”

Crusader 1, heaving the final trunk into the wagon struggles with his patience, “It’s just a name, sir.  Besides, the fed is named…”

A fellow crusader stops him.  He shakes his head as if to say ‘don’t go there’.  Crusader 1 nods, “Nevermind.”

“Well, I guess it isn’t all bad.  If I win this Roulette Title I can use it as an opportunity to preach against the evils of gambling.”

The Modern Day Crusader hops aboard the covered wagon.  The driver redirects the anachronistic vehicle and they take off along the undeveloped terrain, heading toward Brisbane and the site of Climax Control.