Post by Brian Bruno on Apr 8, 2007 11:37:04 GMT -5
“You want to match my fury, Rex? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think you’ll find yourself…LACKING!”
Fade in. Brian Bruno in his room…and his “serum” is beginning to wear off. Soon – the beast will reign supreme again.
Bruno: (Growling) Who does Rex Caliber think he is? He wants to scream and shout AT ME? He doesn’t even know what he’s got himself into! His anger is NOTHING compared to my RAGE! He just gets mad when things don’t go his way, or when someone sets off his temper – I LIVE THIS!
Look at this, Rex Caliber! This is a lifetime of hate that finally has the freedom to take control! I’m not bound by things like your human conscience and “temper”. There’s no on/off switch like you have. All day and night, I’m what you “claim” to be. I’m pure, mother(BLEEP)ing evil, and I make no apologies about it. You claim to be a “real” madman? I call you an impostor, and FOOL! (slams his fist into the wall, nearly putting his whole arm through it. He screams like an animal) YOU’RE AN INSIGNIFICANT NOTHING! I’M BRIAN BRUNO! I’M THE HARVESTER OF SORROW! YOU’RE JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE THAT TRIED TO HOLD ME BACK – THE FACES CHANGE, BUT THE STORY REMAINS THE SAME! (he RIPS his shirt in half, and leaves it hanging from his monstrous upper torso) YOU’RE MY WIFE! YOU’RE SB! YOU’RE THE FAT MOTHER(BLEEP)ER THAT ENDED MY CAREER! YOU’RE MY HATE! MY RAGE! AND I. WILL (BLEEP)ING. KILL YOU! (he throws his head back in a mighty roar and tears the rest of his shirt off, and begins pounding on his chest like a jackhammer)
After short while, he regains himself long enough to speak again, something he often has trouble doing in his true state of mind. But the drugs are still on their last legs…
Bruno: You speak to me, Rex, as if you know anything about me. Football is my passion? HAH! I have no passions. No emotions aside from my burning hate, and my desire to make everyone I come into contact with feel the same. You’re faceless and nameless to me Rex – you’re just another obstacle. Take your titles, your false “rage”, and all your precious fans, and shove them up your country (BLEEP). MackaBEE was smart enough to realize he should shut his mouth…not that it’s going to save him. But you? You want to play tough man. You tried to intimidate he who can’t be intimidated. Your empty threat was the biggest mistake of your life, Rex. You have’t battled a monster yet – you’ve yet to face me. You’ve hurt men like me? I’m one of a kind. I’d crush those worthless peons just like I’ll crush you Tuesday night, and I’ll laugh as I do it. Hurting people isn’t a chore for me like it is for you. I don’t need to strain myself. I’m not held back by your weaknesses, Rex. What would the fans think of me if I snapped MackaBEE’s neck like a twig in front of his family? They’d hate me, just as they do now. But if you did (evil laugh) If you did it, Rexy? They’d riot. They’d come after you like a lynch mob, screaming for your blood. And they’d get it too…those Southern folk are pretty God damn good at lynchings.
You play to these idiots in the crowd. That’s your downfall, Rex. You care about them. I hope they die. That’s the dividing line between a real warrior, and a showman. Your soul belongs to ME.
Fade out, Brian's face twisting into a hate-filled grin.
Fade in. Brian Bruno in his room…and his “serum” is beginning to wear off. Soon – the beast will reign supreme again.
Bruno: (Growling) Who does Rex Caliber think he is? He wants to scream and shout AT ME? He doesn’t even know what he’s got himself into! His anger is NOTHING compared to my RAGE! He just gets mad when things don’t go his way, or when someone sets off his temper – I LIVE THIS!
Look at this, Rex Caliber! This is a lifetime of hate that finally has the freedom to take control! I’m not bound by things like your human conscience and “temper”. There’s no on/off switch like you have. All day and night, I’m what you “claim” to be. I’m pure, mother(BLEEP)ing evil, and I make no apologies about it. You claim to be a “real” madman? I call you an impostor, and FOOL! (slams his fist into the wall, nearly putting his whole arm through it. He screams like an animal) YOU’RE AN INSIGNIFICANT NOTHING! I’M BRIAN BRUNO! I’M THE HARVESTER OF SORROW! YOU’RE JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE THAT TRIED TO HOLD ME BACK – THE FACES CHANGE, BUT THE STORY REMAINS THE SAME! (he RIPS his shirt in half, and leaves it hanging from his monstrous upper torso) YOU’RE MY WIFE! YOU’RE SB! YOU’RE THE FAT MOTHER(BLEEP)ER THAT ENDED MY CAREER! YOU’RE MY HATE! MY RAGE! AND I. WILL (BLEEP)ING. KILL YOU! (he throws his head back in a mighty roar and tears the rest of his shirt off, and begins pounding on his chest like a jackhammer)
After short while, he regains himself long enough to speak again, something he often has trouble doing in his true state of mind. But the drugs are still on their last legs…
Bruno: You speak to me, Rex, as if you know anything about me. Football is my passion? HAH! I have no passions. No emotions aside from my burning hate, and my desire to make everyone I come into contact with feel the same. You’re faceless and nameless to me Rex – you’re just another obstacle. Take your titles, your false “rage”, and all your precious fans, and shove them up your country (BLEEP). MackaBEE was smart enough to realize he should shut his mouth…not that it’s going to save him. But you? You want to play tough man. You tried to intimidate he who can’t be intimidated. Your empty threat was the biggest mistake of your life, Rex. You have’t battled a monster yet – you’ve yet to face me. You’ve hurt men like me? I’m one of a kind. I’d crush those worthless peons just like I’ll crush you Tuesday night, and I’ll laugh as I do it. Hurting people isn’t a chore for me like it is for you. I don’t need to strain myself. I’m not held back by your weaknesses, Rex. What would the fans think of me if I snapped MackaBEE’s neck like a twig in front of his family? They’d hate me, just as they do now. But if you did (evil laugh) If you did it, Rexy? They’d riot. They’d come after you like a lynch mob, screaming for your blood. And they’d get it too…those Southern folk are pretty God damn good at lynchings.
You play to these idiots in the crowd. That’s your downfall, Rex. You care about them. I hope they die. That’s the dividing line between a real warrior, and a showman. Your soul belongs to ME.
Fade out, Brian's face twisting into a hate-filled grin.