The camera comes on to show an office door with the word “SIX” spray painted in a graffiti style upon it. The camera zooms in on the door and it opens revealing a dark, foreboding room. The camera moves slowly in through the doorway and as it is fully engulfed within the darkness of the room, the door slams shut extinguishing the only source of light. The camera seems to move wildly then stops when it points towards an area where red light is shining down onto it dimly.
It is a desk and behind the desk is a chair that is turned to where only the back shows. The camera moves closer to the desk and as it does the chair slowly swings around to reveal SIX sitting in it. He is wearing his trademark suit, except it is now a yellowish silk instead of the red from before. He leans back, fixing his tie and then leans forward placing his arms upon the desk. He reaches up with one hand to fix his hair (which is only two patches spiked to look like horns). He then shakes his head and looks down at the desk. When he looks back into the camera a smile has crossed his face and he begins to laugh.
“I am more than enthused that a fan has mentioned the idea of me, SIX, entering the ring against an opponent. Honestly, though, it could have been against a much more…”
He begins to wave his hands, as if trying to pull an idea from the air.
“….pleasing adversary. I mean from what I have seen the individual that I will be going against is nothing more than a joke. He just, is more or less, a brown nosing little bitch, who has a streak of luck longer than the green mile. I had to put tougher men into there cells at night than The Man has ever dreamed of becoming. I have had to stand my own for years against some of the most merciless and blood thirsty men in this country and outside this country. Maybe, some of it has rubbed off, because all I can see now is red. I look forward to making The Man bleed and maybe even going as far as ending the pathetic maggot’s career, which isn’t much of a loss.”
SIX stands up and the room is flooded with dim red light. He moves from behind the desk and walks up to a wall opposite him and begins to look at pictures on the wall. They are of corpses that seemed to have suffered deaths that none would want. SIX stops at one of the pictures in which the individual has been beheaded and blood is all over his headless body and the head lies nearby. The eyes are open and the mouth gapes open with crusted blood. SIX taps the picture.
“This was one of my favorites. I did it as an underground execution in Ecuador. He was a lowly drug lord who had killed a family. The father had owed him money and could not pay so they all paid with the most valuable resource in this World…..Life.”
He continues to look at a few more pictures and stops before he reaches the last picture. He turns towards the camera and sticks his hands in his pockets.
“I never came here to wrestle, but I do believe it will be a wonderful experience. I honestly have no idea how to “wrestle”, but I do know how to fight and since I booked the match, I will fight it as I please. I can gurantee that The Man has never faced an opponent quite like me. When I am finished he will only wish to breathe. That will be his biggest goal. I figure he will run his mouth, acting bigger than what he is, but I as well as ever staff member and wrestler here knows that The Man is nothing more than a comic relief here. He is not an athlete or an entertainer, wrestling wise. The matches he has won have been by luck and the ones he has lost don’t even mean shit to the ones who beat him. You, The Man, are a pesky fly swarming around the head of everyone here and I think it is about time that you are swatted.”
SIX removes his hand from his pocket, bringing with it a handkerchief. He dabs it upon his forehead and removes sweat that has perspired upon him. He stops and puts the handkerchief back into his pocket.
“I will not use underhanded techniques nor will I cheat. I will fight. I just hope that The Man knows how to fight. His luck is all dried up. He can only rely on himself now and if I was a betting man, which I am, I would surely bet against his victory. Now, I am a busy man, so that is all I have to say and all that needs to be said. Thank you.”
SIX walks past the camera and opens the door inside the room and exits it, closing it back as he leaves. The camera moves to the last picture that SIX didn’t even look at. The camera focuses on it. It is a picture of SIX standing upon a mountain of dead bodies. He looks much younger than what he does now, but looks relatively the same. He does not wear a shirt and you can see tattoos showered around his body. A smile is on his face and the sky behind him is as blue as possible. The bodies are all mangled and blood is all over the place.
The camera moves to the bottom of the picture where there is a small plate that has words written on it. The camera zooms in on it to show that it says: “Prison Up Rise in Southeast Africa 1987.” The camera zooms out and moves toward the door. As it opens you see SIX standing outside the room the door, his back to the camera. He laughs and speaks under his breath.
“Yeah, I was such a damn good warden. Maybe I should handle the AWB like I handle my prisoners, without mercy and under an iron fist.”
He laughs more and begins to make his way down the hallway, speaking to random employees. The camera follows him as he leaves and then it slowly fades to black, with the AWB symbol flashing upon the screen for a brief second then fading.
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March 19th 2007, 1:54 am