Post by Brian Bruno on Apr 8, 2007 19:07:00 GMT -5
Open to a black screen. All we can hear is a voice – who’s voice is unmistakable.
Bruno: What is the seed of hate? Are we born to hate, or is it our surroundings that make us into who we are? Some say I’m what the hood made me; I beg to differ. Those idiotic gangbangers and I have nothing in common. They steal and grovel for their meals now. I’m all-powerful, a being unto his own that controls his own destiny. I’m hateful. I look at others, see the way they live their pointless lives, and it drives me to be what I am. I’m a cleanser. I take life from people who don’t deserve it. People who aren’t living the lives that they should be – weak cowards who’d rather lay down and die for their decency and honesty than to partake in the earthly delights that I do. Violence for the sake of violence. Hate, so that hate will not die. I don’t want anyone to be happy. I don’t want to see lovers walking in the park. I want them to live in fear of me and those with the courage and foresight to be like me. It isn’t easy being what I am: equal parts sadistic madman and unadulterated genius. But I love every minute of it. The screams of the weak drive me on. I want to hear you scream for your life, Rex Caliber. And I want to make you beg for pity, MackaBEE. I can’t wait to see you crawl, on broken hands and feet, away from me and cry out for help. Your punishments won’t be severe – they’ll be UNBEARABLE. I have no remorse. I’ll kill you where you stand for what I believe in. My agenda, my perfect vision of a world gone mad, will be set forth Tuesday night. Cataclysm was my first victim. He’s been noticeably silent, hasn’t he? Sacrificed to the God of Hate, Brian Bruno. Now, I have two more souls to reap. Rest assured, they will be harvested.
Lights up. Brian Bruno, wearing only his black trunks. He’s soaking wet, and blood streams out of a gaping cut in his forehead.
Bruno: Pain’s a funny thing. As much as I love to dish it out, I simply can not feel it anymore the way I used to. chair shots just don’t have the same sweet effect. Punches seem to glance off. Kicks to the stomach don’t even sting. It’s a damn shame. I wonder…perhaps, one of you might actually bring that sweet sensation back to me? Hmmph…I doubt it.
Rex Caliber is a stubborn man. He convinces himself that he knows who I am – yet he knows not even himself. He lives a lie and is content with it, and then tries to point the finger at me. Hook, line, and sinker, Rex? Mindless fool! You don’t WANT me to be angry with me – not that it would be any easier for you if I weren’t, and besides, I hate the whole miserable human race as a general rule of thumb. But it’s those poor, unfortunate souls that goad me into exploding on them that wind up on the front page of the newspapers. You threaten me with violence? With death? I laugh. What could you possibly do to me that others haven’t tried to do and failed? What makes you greater? You championships? Your ego? Or perhaps it’s your money that you throw around like a whore? You sicken me, you make me almost AROUSED to destroy you.
Your ignorance will be your downfall, Rex. The origins of this Brian Bruno have NOTHING to do with anyone else but me. I didn’t become a beast. I AM THE BEAST. I’m the one who haunts your dead career in your worst nightmares. You should have stayed on the shelf, and locked your doors and hoped and prayed I wouldn’t come to take your soul. But now it’s too late. For all your faults, all your stupidity, and simply for wont of a more favorable target – I will destroy. The end of your career will be the beginning of my own personal reign of dominance and fear. You want to hold a tiger by the tail? Sooner or later, the tiger has his lunch. Look into my eyes, Rex. You’ll see where MURDER lies.
!BZZT! Fade to black.
Bruno: What is the seed of hate? Are we born to hate, or is it our surroundings that make us into who we are? Some say I’m what the hood made me; I beg to differ. Those idiotic gangbangers and I have nothing in common. They steal and grovel for their meals now. I’m all-powerful, a being unto his own that controls his own destiny. I’m hateful. I look at others, see the way they live their pointless lives, and it drives me to be what I am. I’m a cleanser. I take life from people who don’t deserve it. People who aren’t living the lives that they should be – weak cowards who’d rather lay down and die for their decency and honesty than to partake in the earthly delights that I do. Violence for the sake of violence. Hate, so that hate will not die. I don’t want anyone to be happy. I don’t want to see lovers walking in the park. I want them to live in fear of me and those with the courage and foresight to be like me. It isn’t easy being what I am: equal parts sadistic madman and unadulterated genius. But I love every minute of it. The screams of the weak drive me on. I want to hear you scream for your life, Rex Caliber. And I want to make you beg for pity, MackaBEE. I can’t wait to see you crawl, on broken hands and feet, away from me and cry out for help. Your punishments won’t be severe – they’ll be UNBEARABLE. I have no remorse. I’ll kill you where you stand for what I believe in. My agenda, my perfect vision of a world gone mad, will be set forth Tuesday night. Cataclysm was my first victim. He’s been noticeably silent, hasn’t he? Sacrificed to the God of Hate, Brian Bruno. Now, I have two more souls to reap. Rest assured, they will be harvested.
Lights up. Brian Bruno, wearing only his black trunks. He’s soaking wet, and blood streams out of a gaping cut in his forehead.
Bruno: Pain’s a funny thing. As much as I love to dish it out, I simply can not feel it anymore the way I used to. chair shots just don’t have the same sweet effect. Punches seem to glance off. Kicks to the stomach don’t even sting. It’s a damn shame. I wonder…perhaps, one of you might actually bring that sweet sensation back to me? Hmmph…I doubt it.
Rex Caliber is a stubborn man. He convinces himself that he knows who I am – yet he knows not even himself. He lives a lie and is content with it, and then tries to point the finger at me. Hook, line, and sinker, Rex? Mindless fool! You don’t WANT me to be angry with me – not that it would be any easier for you if I weren’t, and besides, I hate the whole miserable human race as a general rule of thumb. But it’s those poor, unfortunate souls that goad me into exploding on them that wind up on the front page of the newspapers. You threaten me with violence? With death? I laugh. What could you possibly do to me that others haven’t tried to do and failed? What makes you greater? You championships? Your ego? Or perhaps it’s your money that you throw around like a whore? You sicken me, you make me almost AROUSED to destroy you.
Your ignorance will be your downfall, Rex. The origins of this Brian Bruno have NOTHING to do with anyone else but me. I didn’t become a beast. I AM THE BEAST. I’m the one who haunts your dead career in your worst nightmares. You should have stayed on the shelf, and locked your doors and hoped and prayed I wouldn’t come to take your soul. But now it’s too late. For all your faults, all your stupidity, and simply for wont of a more favorable target – I will destroy. The end of your career will be the beginning of my own personal reign of dominance and fear. You want to hold a tiger by the tail? Sooner or later, the tiger has his lunch. Look into my eyes, Rex. You’ll see where MURDER lies.
!BZZT! Fade to black.