All we had to eat was bread and water...
Each day we had to build that road a mile and a quarter.
Black snake whip would cut our backs when some poor fool complained...
...But we couldn't fight back wearin' 35 pounds of Blackjack County chain.
(The scene opens to show a destitute, rundown playground as we focus on a slowly spinning merry-go-round in the center that seems to be on fire as rickety swings sway in the background ten feet away from a broken seesaw. We hear the opening guitar riff of “Four Rusted Horses” by Marilyn Manson but before the song can continue...a car suddenly crashes through the chain link fence and into the burning merry-go-round. The car has no driver as it’s only occupant...perched on top and braced for impact...was a scrawny, emo or punk looking kid. Young enough that he was still so fresh faced it doesn’t even seem like he’s attempted to grow facial hair and half of his face is painted like a sugar doll from a Dia De Los Muertos celebration. As we hear the car’s final breath we notice that the fire from the merry-go-round is near the engine and surely enough, the young man jumps off the top just as the hood of the car catches fire. We hear the kid’s voice over as he turns to look at the car.)
Kid: ...as I understand it...you live in a world where the vile and destitute can forge a better path for themselves simply by using the undeterred grit they were forced to survive with…
(The kid turns and puts his hood over his head as he looks into the camera...still voice over.)
Kid: ...when you crawl...you learn to pull yourself up...when you’re helped up, you’re weak. They took that struggle from you...they took life’s most beautiful, pained lessons from you because they took to you...and they CARE for you.
(The car engine explodes behind him as he ducks his head looking back towards the flames.)
Kid: Even Hell can get comfy once you’ve settled in…
(As the flames begin to spread, we hear sirens in the background as the kid puts a mask over his face and walks off screen.)
Kid: ...but when you least expect it...your receipt is cashed in...and, my darling...this is REALLY...going...to hurt.
(We cut to the PWS Arena as we see Mack McKane watching in his locker room as a death grip clutches to his title and Mattie’s hand. Jack speaks up.)
Jack Russow: Holy shit...that kid’s intense! Who th’fuck is he?
Mattie Cormier: In a way he sort of...favors you, don’t you think?
Mack McKane: ...it’s a message...one that I’m not quite sure...I have the answer to.
(Just then, Mack’s brother Kenny burst through the door looking at him out of breath. They share a knowing look.)
Kenny McKane: ...when?
Mack McKane: Riot.
(Everybody looks at each other extremely confused as Mack walks up to Kenny and puts a hand on his shoulder.)
Mack McKane: It’s alright...it’ll be alright.
Jack Russow: ...WHAT WILL BE ALRIGHT!?
(Mack slowly closes the door behind Jack as this part of the show fades.)
-Tickets Please-
(The scene opens back up to a black and white frame of an empty room without even a chair in the middle for a typical promo. Instead the door opens and in walks the same scrawny kid. Nice blazer he probably stole or won in some contest covering a ratty, hole-filled Misfits shirt half tucked into his ragged skinny jeans held up by a black and white checkered belt and accentuated with tattered black and white Vans Off The Walls. He paces the room for a moment brushing his hand along the crevasses and divots in the masonry as he begins to speak in a lower, almost hypnotizing voice.)
Kid: A name is a label placed on you to file your spot in their lines. A name...is traceable. A name is an albatross around your neck and I...am not a Mariner. And so I shuffled loose the insatiable bane of your society. But for all intents and purposes...you may call me…
...
Krash.
(Krash finally turns and walks to the middle of the room sitting with his legs crossed and his fingers pressed together in front of him as he gets lost in deep thought.)
Krash: ...y’know I spent so many years...looking for you. See the old man, he thought I was better off thinking you dead but I knew...I KNEW what we were made of. I was half her, after all. Him? Bah...he was unremarkable. He was a stooge...a slob...he couldn’t take care of his first family, what the fuck made him think he could take care of a second? The drinking got worse, the stepmoms came and went...USUALLY with half of our stuff. I watched a man...slowly die from the inside out because he was left to his own devices...and weak.
...I...am not that man.Krash: Of course, how could YOU be faulted for your ignorance to this? As far as you two knew...I was a fairy tale...or a ghost story. The way I figured, YOU never even knew I was alive...that I existed...because why would you care? Even I didn’t learn about our connection until the man’s dying breaths. But once I knew...I wondered...and I waited. And for two years…
...there was no HOUSE...there was no INHERITANCE...and there was. no. YOU.(Krash gains a bit of a snarl when he contemplates this as he draws pictures in the dirt and gravel in front of him, continuing on almost as a kid who is describing their day at school to their parents.)
Krash: And THEN...there WAS you! But by that time I was everything...I needed. A dollar fifty in library late fees paid for a lifetime of education. A lifetime of neglect paid for a lifetime of callous indifference! And a childhood of nonconforming...paid for a lifetime of toughness from the beatings I received both at school and at home every day. Don’t worry, “Your Majesty”, I know you’re still the Patron Saint of Daddy Issues. But I was intrigued...you finally showed up. With an OFFER. An offer I didn’t need...an offer I didn’t particularly desire…
...but an offer...I am taking.(Krash rolls backwards up to a standing position straightening his blazer.)
Krash: And so NOW...you are going to watch what I do to this...Chris...Blade? Oh how clever. How very, very thoughtful of you. Chris BLADE! I get it! What a WONDERFUL joke! It’s just too bad...I’m not the laughing kind. No...no see I’m the unironic kind that will give you exactly what you want...I WILL impale Chris WITH a Blade and you WILL watch if I have to. I waited so long for you...praying to a God that doesn’t exist, believing in a Will that contradicts my own, and hoping against all hope that maybe SOMEWHERE you fuckin’ cared enough to show up. And when is that?
...when I”m getting my face bashed in for the twenty-second time for money.Krash: So you don’t have to think of me as the Prince of Daddy Issues...you don’t have to think of me as Branch Manager of Bitter. Because I did it all...I survived it ALL...WITHOUT you. So what YOU get to see...is the better half of your bloodline with a massive CHIP on his shoulder...do whatever you can do...but only that much better. I never fought for a piece of gold before...but I bet it’d look damn good around my hunger-panged waist. So whattya say Chris Blade?
...let’s find out.(With that Krash calmly exits the room as we fade to black.)