The truths of Civility

{The screen brightens into what appears to be an old abandoned actor’s dressing room somewhere. A cracked mirror sits on a makeup table, the room itself is dusty, some of the still working lights are flickering ever so slightly and then a moment later, the lights flicker in the room and then Jacob Striker steps into frame proper, dressed in a pair of black work jeans and a white tank top-the “Real Rock’n’Rolla” sits down heavily in a chair with a very annoyed look on his face}

Jacob: You know, I had actually hoped for a vastly different outcome  to what happened at Arcadia. You see, win or lose I was actually hoping that Banch Morgan would’ve seen past whatever this bullshit that’s been covering his eyes about me and actually give me the credit that is due to some one of my fucking talent and admit just how wrong he was about me in everything that he had declared was gospel a few weeks back...including how he conned a whole slew of people to accuse me about threatening to shoot him.

But instead, the first Dominion following Arcadia comes out and I get fucking singled out and buried.

On *INTERNATIONAL* television no less.

{Jake then stops and points hard at the camera for a moment}

Jacob: And Banch, you cannot fucking lie your way out of this because no matter how you want to spin that piece of shit thing you did last week but I know a fucking burial when I see one.

You just didn’t know when to fucking stop and admit, *ADMIT* that you were wrong could you? You just had to keep pushing and pushing your false superiority until something just had to happen...and happen it did.

{The screen flickers hard before a shot of Jacob Striker hitting the Apocalypse onto Banch Morgan, with Striker dropping the older man hard onto his head several times is shown, from multiple angles and directions, speeds and visuals before it cuts back to Jake, still sitting in that chair}

Jacob: Do you think I wanted to do that, Banch? Seriously do you think that I love to just drop some random shit head on the top of their fucking dome until they black out from the sheer amount of pain?

I have always taken responsibility for my actions, you piece of fucking shit, but not everything is on my head because these last few weeks, you’ve done everything that you fucking can to either make me accept that I’m nothing more than a talent enhancer for those that kiss your ass to get further in this company or until I fall in line like some kind of fucking ass clown.

So I will start taking responsibility for my shit when you do the same, deal?

But then, THEN you decide from outta nowhere that you’re going to punish me by having me face off against one of the extremely few people that I have respect for on this brand in Daniel Horror?! You’re wanting to put the two of us into an Outlaw rules match and watch the two of us tear each other apart?!

Again, your lack of any true intelligence is staggering Banch because putting Daniel and I in an Outlaw Rules match is fucking *FUN* for the two of us! Do the fucking math for once, old man, and realize that you’re giving Daniel and I a chance to seriously just have fun and to test our limits as wrestlers.

Not because we’re “Thuggish Backyard Wrestlers” like you seem to fucking believe that we are, *NO*. Daniel and I excel at this style of wrestling because it enables us to actually let go and showcase one of the purest of American wrestling styles which was made famous by a great many Texan wrestlers over the decades...and we’ll do it in show stealing style!

Because that’s how killer Daniel Horror and I fucking are in this and any other company that we’re apart of...we are two maestros of mayhem, culinary experts in creating a visual feast of carnage, and if you think that you’re going to turn us into your fucking clowns...well, then you’ve got another fucking thing coming don’t you?!

But you want to fucking know something, maybe...just fucking *MAYBE* I should just give you and all of your little sycophant bitches out there exactly what you all want, Banch?!

You want to see me as a fucking *CLOWN*?!

{Jake stops for a moment and looks around the immediate area until he finally spies something on the make up table next to him, an old tube of white face paint}

Jacob: I'll *GIVE* you....

{Jake yanks the tube open and squirts a large handful of the white paint into his hands which he then slams both of his palms flat against his face as he turns away from the camera for a moment. We see him dig his strong fingers into a vice-like grip as he works the paint around on his face for several seconds...but as he does so, the rage that was almost palpable in his very being seems to start flowing away from him and when he turns back to face the camera, his hands are still covering his face, but when Jake speaks next, all of his anger...it's gone, not even a quiet fury is there. All of it seemingly replaced by something...else}

Jacob: In the days leading up to Arcadia, I kept trying to warn you Banch...warn all of your little children...that perhaps pushing an honest man closer and closer to the abyss wasn't the most healthy of things for you to do.

I mean, we teach boys to be afraid of fear, of weakness, of vulnerability. We teach them to mask their true selves...but I, I tried to live out in the open. To be an honest man nor did I need to wear a mask, instead of the honest monsters that my father has bred.

But maybe...just *maybe*...I was wearing one after all?

{Jake slowly lowers his hands to reveal the paint on his face isn't so much as "smeared", but formed into something much more sinister, calculated with his ice blue eyes focused clearly from the depths of bone white face paint intermixed with lines of black}

Jacob: I mean the human face is, after all, nothing more or less than a mask and perhaps I was wearing one for too long?

Maybe Myojin was right, maybe Jacob Striker was the unimaginative brute of mask of something...better.

{Jake turns his face to look at the camera and he gives the camera a rather unsettling smile, but one that looks also way too comfortable}

Jacob: ...or worse? Maybe I needed to be pushed...forced into realizing that maybe, just maybe there was more to be accepted about me than anything. I mean, Wil goes around the globe calling himself "Los Ingobernable"...the "Ungovernable"...when in fact perhaps, he's been a bigger liar than I and many others have thought.

{Jake then turns to look into the cracked mirror again and...admiring for the lack of a better term...his "face" as he does so, reaching out occasionally with paint smeared finger tips to almost tenderly touching the broken mirror before he slowly turns to look back at the camera}

Jacob: I feel strangely at ease with this...and it bothers me not.

Not as much as having to fight you, my dear friend Daniel. At Dominion this week, you and I have to square off against each other yet again for the sick amusement of our bosses...but while the weak willed, rot brained overseer of Dominion thinks he's being clever in this deed...I still feel sorry for you, my dear Daniel.

{Jake's left eye and the left corner of his lips twitch ever so slightly, almost like he's biting back something else...or the reactions of someONE else as he speaks in that cool, calm, and collected manner}

Jacob: I want you to make me bleed, Daniel. I want you to make me feel something so that I can tell if who I am now is still *me*...or something that I'm becoming because right now because of all of this countless bullshit that simply has been heaped upon me from Morgan and his little band of bitch lackeys.. I feel the need to rend something apart, to make bones snap as a person screams in a cacophony of painful delight for my ears to enjoy.

And I hate to say that those delicious screams...might just be coming from you at Dominion.

I don't know if you'll be facing the devil that you've come to respect and know, Daniel...or...

{Jake turns his painted face once more towards the broken mirror which he touches out of slight confusion}

Jacob: Or this Malkavian that seems to be staring back at me in the mirror, Daniel, and for that I apologize but I believe that you might actually understand the darkness that's been building don't you?

A darkness that sings us a little song for us to enjoy as we rip each other apart this weekend.

{Jake then slowly drags his fingertips down the broken mirror before turning to face the camera again fully, his face turned into that same comfortable, unsettling smile}

Jacob: Oh, at Dominion there will be blood and pain...you can be rest assured of that, Banch. Just like you can be rest assured that I will beat my friend into a bloody pulp as a way to strengthen him even further...to help him evolve past this place that you feel people like us should exist because soon, he and I will both carry the gold that rightfully should already be sitting upon our gloriously scarred shoulders.

But you, Banch. You want to punish me for my actions against you and your hypocrisy.

Go right ahead, make all of the declarations of how worthless you are that you wish, I won't stop you.

But I want you to fully understand that no matter how many roadblocks or so called "punishments" you put in my way, I'm still going to power right through them because you lack the intelligence or the foresight to understand what kind of man you're trying to keep down.

And if that means digging deep down and pulling something even darker, more insidious and letting it rise to the top so that it can bury you in absolute suffering...then I will gladly do just that.

But you, Banch Morgan, *you* will take responsibility for what you're about to unleash upon the world. And after all of that which is to come, I will grant you a revolution of sins.

But not those that you try to gospel into existence that are mine. These sins that you try to force me to admit are mine...I gladly return them to you because, Banch?

No, I will grant you the release of seeing what sins I'm going to truly unleash upon *my* brand which is Dominion.

Oh...and, Banch?

{Jake then leans forward in his seat, that unsettling smile grows even wider into sinister, mocking grin}

Jacob: Don't hate the sinner, hate the sin.

{The screen the blacks out abruptly to Jake's laughter before it echoes away into the darkness}