*Disclaimer: The views expressed in the following rp are merely hyperbole. Some language may be too strong and controversial for sensitive readers. reader discretion is advised.*
That’s it, innit? The save heard ‘round the bleedin’ world. I stepped to dear Jackie’s old man once and though I kept my composure...and I ALMOST finished the git...I have to admit for a geezer he rang by bell a fair cop better than I anticipated. Even got a bit of the old rubies flowin’ from my moneymaker didn’t he?
...I don’t mind bleeding...bleeding let’s you know you’re still alive.
Still...I weren’t too keen on getting the young Ms. involved but I daresay she can surely hold her own. Got a knack for the killer instinct. That’s good...she’s gonna need that, ain’t she? Standing against this “madman” who fancies himself a smiter of Gods and Devils. I know all about ‘im...studied his every move when I was training. You coulda even called me a fan…
...but now? Well he’s gone too far off the bank, eh?
That’s alright though...I owe Jack a great debt. He pulled me outta quite a few tough ones. Him and Milo both. We had our own little fraternity going on for awhile there and for awhile...things were good! We were turning heads...getting known on a national level.
...and that’s why Jack-o had to leave before it leaked, didn’t he?
See...I get it. He’d been watchin’ his daddums goin’ darker and darker from afar and my heart felt for him...well...what my heart CAN feel for someone else’s plight. See he’d done the trainin’...but he hadn’t put it into practice yet. And you can’t carry a last name like that and start small. What if you start TOO big though? What if you choked? Nah bruv...we ain’t about that bollocks.
...you knew when we were in town…
...you knew us by the trail of dead.
So when he rang me up and said he wanted to employ my…”services”...I admit, I hesitated. But when ya know the check’s gonna clear, ya take all the scrill you can grab don’tcha? Especially if you’re hungry. And loves...I was STARVING. And then, call it a job well done, there’s magically a contract on my table. This was it...THIS was my shot. So I’ll follow the kid into battle...I just hope they don’t mind my...PARTICULAR...brand of warfare. I’m not coming to make a statement...I’m not coming to save anybody’s life this time...this is pure, mindless wrath, innit? After all…
...I’m no Jesus Christ.
“God is dead...and no one cares.
If there is a Hell…
...I’LL SEE YOU THERE!!!”
(The scene opens to show the interior of a church where the congregation is shouting “AMEN!” to everything the bigoted, racist preacher is spewing out of his mouth…
...legally, we cannot call them by their name…
...but you know who they are.)
Preacher: ...because them MEXICANS think the law don’t APPLY to them! And we thank our brothers in our DC chapter of [Name Redacted] for opening up their hallowed halls of PURENESS to us so our voices can be heard on a NATIONAL LEVEL! Ain’t you TIRED of the lies!?
Preacher: Ain’t you tired o’ the snakey little ingrates who think the rules don’t apply to them tryina come over here and take YOUR hard earned jobs!? I say NO MORE! Go mow yer OWN lawn, Pedro! And while we’re at it you can take that lazy, good for nothin’ sumbitch DeMarcus WITH YOU!!!
Preacher: AMERICA...was MADE...for the WHITE MAN! White is the color of PURITY! Our people were hand selected by GOD HIMSELF! We are PURE and WHITE as the DRIVEN SNOW!!! The darker coloreds can’t be trusted!!! Black is the color of shadow! Brown is the color of mud! Yella is the color o’ COWARDICE! RED IS THE COLOR O’ SHAME!!! Segregation has crippled this once mighty fine empire!
Preacher: And them people put this on GOD. “WHY GOD, WHY!?” WHY’D YOU LET THIS HAPPEN!? Brothers and sisters, make no mistake! God didn’t do this TO them, no no!...he did this FOR them!!!
Preacher: God SENT those shooters to send his message! God SENT the tornados, and the hurricanes, and the earthquakes! And that’s what we’ll teach the world at this funeral... “AND I WILL STRIKE DOWN UPON THEE WITH A RIGHTEOUS VENGEAN-”
Voice: Brilliant. Picketing the funeral of a seven year old girl. Surely you are the right hand of God, monsignor.
(The entire congregation looks around wildly as the “preacher” looks very perplexed.)
Preacher: Who said that? Who DARE interrupts the word of God!?
(We hear fingers snap as suddenly “Stuck In The Middle With You” by Stealers Wheel starts playing as everyone grows uncomfortable when suddenly a VERY dark young man in a spiked mask and matching trenchcoat seemingly rises out of the baptismal trough...the dark circles under his eyes seem to stare a hole through the preacher as he hurdles his body in one fluid motion to sit on the outside of the trough, flipping open his trenchcoat and crossing his legs. Mack McKane had come to make his presence known)
Preacher: Y-You interrupt the sermon of God himself, demon!
Mack McKane: Demon? No...no no...just a…*clicks tongue* concerned citizen, innit?
Preacher: Why you arrogant little Limey bastard, I’LL!
(The preacher takes a couple steps towards him as Mack jumps up pulling a corded push buzzer from his side as the entire crowd gasps.)
Mack McKane: Do I have your undivided attention now, Sunshine? Let’s have a chat, shall we?
(Mack swaggers up to the preacher putting his arm around him shooting him a wink after pulling his mask off. He turns to the crowd.)
Mack McKane: This is YOUR message from God. You get ONE MORE SHOT...to pull your heads outta your asses, savvy? Your prejudice...your hatred...it’s all fucked, innit? Take your new lease on life and make something better than the feculent scum you are right now.
(They all sit in fear staring a hole through Mack as he rolls his eyes.)
Mack McKane: ...this is the part where you lot bugger off!
(As if on cue everyone starts shrieking and bolting for the door trampling their own “brothers and sisters” trying to flee as the preacher takes one step forward and Mack flutters his butterfly knife open in front of him stopping him in his tracks.)
Mack McKane: Not you, Princess. Let’s have that chat now, shall we? Now...what’s your God say about false prophets?
Preacher: “B-Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves”...M-Matthew 7:15
(The preacher is in tears as Mack forces him into a chair and snarls in his face.)
Mack McKane: Man of God...yet you were going to terrorize the funeral...of a SEVEN YEAR OLD GIRL!!!
Preacher: P-Please...it wa-wasn’t even about her! We just knew that...that would get us the most attention to our cause!
Mack McKane: Your cause? YOUR FUCKING CAUSE!? Spreading hate and bigotry with no fear of consequence? Did you REALLY think you could get away with it FOREVER!? Did you not THINK...that SOMEBODY...would ACCOST YOU!?
(The preacher is bawling his eyes out as Mack holds the plunger up to his face.)
Mack McKane: Whattya say, “Rev”? Let’s me and you go see what the Devil has to say about this!!!
Preacher: No please! Please! Please NO!-
(Mack pushes the plunger in as a nozzle on the inside of his coat...squirts water in the preachers face.)
Mack McKane: I’m not gonna kill you…
Preacher: Oh thank you! Thank you!
Mack McKane: ...today.
(Mack yanks the preacher out of the chair who has quite clearly wet his own pants as he snarls in his face.)
Mack McKane: I hear one more word. ONE WORD. about you in the papers AGAIN...I finish the job. Savvy?
(The preacher is absolutely sniveling now as Mack throws him off the stage sending him scattering for the door.)
Mack McKane: GO ON!!! RUN LITTLE CUR, BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND!!!
(The preacher bolts out the door as Mack flips his butterfly knife nervously before turning around and looking up at the crucifix as the camera crew comes out of hiding from the pastor’s office.)
Mack McKane: Tell me, Johnny Sins...what it is that grants you such a...VICIOUS surname? Another MMA washout that couldn’t survive in his own sport so now you come trying to pervade mine? By what right? By WHAT...AUTHORITY? D’you know why you were hired at PWS, Johnny? It’s because you look the part...and you act the part...and that’s JUST enough to sell people smoke and mirrors...make ‘em think you could be a threat when in reality? You’re a bleedin’ stepping stone...a warm up match. See...I’M just supposed to use you to show the world what I can do…’cause unlike you? I’ve got it, bruv. The stuff, the It factor, the shine...I am everything you WISH you could be. You’re not a fighter...you’re not a wrestler...truth be told?
...you look like a bleeder.
(Mack kinda chuckles to himself as he cracks his neck and starts wrecking the inner sanctum of the hate-filled premises with great fervor.)
Mack McKane: See you, Johnny...you coulda very well been in this, what do they call themselves? A congregation? For lack of a better term, of course. You coulda fit right in with these cretins, spewing nonsense and hate...right…’cause you’re a “tweener” ain’t ya. Fancy yourself an anti-hero, do ya? You and that silicone pumped mongrel you run around with. See unlike the rest of your opponents who simply crush you under their boots and move on, I’ve got a soft spot for lost causes John boy! I wanna see what makes you tick...I wanna see what makes you so “special”. I WANNA KNOW...WHAT YOUR BLOOD...TASTES LIKE. And rest assured Johnny boy...I’m gonna do just that.
(Mack licks his lips as he slashes all the paintings of white Jesus on the walls.)
Mack McKane: I think I rather have a fall back career in interior design, don’t you? See...I’d like to tell you it’s nothing personal, Johnny. I’d like to tell you that you’re just another payday at just another poorly named event...but it is your countries “Independence Day” innit? Do you know how mental that sounds, watching the lot of you go about your daily lives? You got your “freedom” and look where i am...THIS is what you do with your “Independence”!? You beat each other over the head...you leave each other dying in the streets. You fight tooth and nail to force women to betray their own bodies and desires to keep a baby alive but tell it to sink or swim as soon as it’s born?
“From a nation under God...I feel it’s love like a cattle prod…”
Mack McKane: I don’t fault you, dearest fans...you just haven’t been shown a better way! All you’ve had for “examples” are that bleedin’ maniac Russow and his crew of little miscreants and flunkies which, hey man...normally? That’s my whole bag. But see THESE burnouts...they crossed the wrong wires with the wrong people, savvy? I’ve got red in my ledger and I plan on paying back every red cent...with rubies dripping from Stella here…
(Mack looks lovingly at his knife before flipping it closed and turning to face the camera.)
Mack McKane: I believe my work here is done for now...d’you like what I’ve done with the place? You were my muse! See...all these cross words aside Johnny, I like ya! You got a certain...moxie...to your game. In another life, I might even wanna see you succeed! But this ain’t the time...this ain’t the place…
...and I ain’t no bleedin’ Jesus Christ.
(Mack glares at the camera as he puts his mask back on and slides out the side door as we hear police sirens in the distance before we fade to black on a shot of the completely ruined Hall of Disgrace.)