The Partille Psychiatric Institution Pt. 2 - Room 4859
Aug 27, 2016 14:53:29 GMT -6
Spencer Adams, Bonnie Blue, and 1 more like this
Post by Sven Alexander on Aug 27, 2016 14:53:29 GMT -6
Sven is being escorted by two men, the sterile white of their clothes and the walls feeling increasingly out of place as the metal doors to the rooms become thicker and thicker, the human voices from inside them sounding more and more disturbed.
'You’re mad at me aren’t you?'
'Gee, you think so?'
The sneer that crosses Sven's face does not go unnoticed by the men escorting him, they turn to him, clearly ready to restrain him.
Sven puts his hands up, attempting to reassure them that he’s fine 'Woah, i was just thinking about one of my coworkers!'
The men appear to accept the excuse, but the shorter of the pair makes sure to stay a few inches further away from Sven for the rest of the walk.
'That’s my boy, lying like a champ’.'
'Yeah well, i can’t say that i think about my imaginary coworker all the time, so shut up for once will you?'
The trio finally arrive at 'room four-eight-five-nine' as the institution staff insisted on calling it, and if all went well, it would be the final stop of his visit to Sweden.
This far into the building the architects had given up trying to make the environment soothing; gray, exposed concrete has fully replaced the sterile white of the reception area. The rooms themselves illuminated only by naked light tubes, making the slight irregularities in the concrete stand out with dark shadows, making the scene feel more like that of a horror movie than that of a house dedicated to mental care.
4859 must be the room that got the entire year's budget, in sharp contrast with the sparsely furnished rooms where the interview was held it contains several metal boxes covered in displays and softly blinking lights, none of which Sven can decipher the meaning of, but he prefers not knowing exactly is going to be connected to his body.
But the thing that draws Sven's eyes to it, what truly draws his attention, what he cannot turn his eyes away from, is the soft, plastic reclining chair standing in the center of the room, to which wires from all the machines are drawn, connect to all manners of vital sensors and electrodes, all of them covered in some form of disinfectant liquid, probably designed to feel as uncomfortable as possible when touching the skin of a human being.
Sven is instructed to sit down, he thinks that Max makes some form of snarky remark about… something, but Sven is simply not able to focus on it, the reality of what is about to happen starting to reach his mind.
'Max…'
'Yeah?' Max somehow manages to smirk without actually moving a muscle, not noticing the terrified voice of Sven.
'There is no way this works, right? That you disappear, or that we… merge, and we become someone else?'
'Oh Sven, we've talked about this...' Max normally mocking tone takes on the almost motherly quality it only has when he tries to comfort his other half, 'As long as we hold on to each other, none of their treatment can ever come close to tearing us apart, as for the Merging, that was just the insane ramblings of a psychologist who wanted to become famous, there is no truth to it, none at all.' Of course Max had never studied the claims of that psychologist, and had no idea of the actual validity of his claims, but he felt it would be better if he left that unsaid, Sven needed all the hope he could get.
'”Just hold on”, you're sure that'll work? Sven wipes his eyes with the back of his palm, not wanting the institute staff to see the effect his inner dialogue is having on him, absentmindedly explaining away his movement with an imaginary loose eyelash.
'Yeah buddy, i'm sure...' Max struggles to keep his voice soothing, not an easy task for someone like him, but this is a special circumstance, '...now i think we need to start gripping tightly.'
The last comment is made as the staff start applying the different electrodes and sensors to his bare chest, Sven doesn't remember when he removed his shirt, but it hardly matters now, the operation is beginning.
'Hey, Max!'
Sven is standing in the far corner of his apartment, where he yesterday spent several hours hanging a punching bag from the concrete ceiling; his near albino white body covered in sweat.
'Yeah, what is it?'
'You've read the full card for Meltdown, right?'
'Yeah.'
'Well what do you think, do we have a shot?'
'We always have a shot, but if you're asking me if i think we're going to win...'
'That is the exact thing i was trying to ask you'
'Then yes, I think we will.'
'Seriously?'
'Yeah, all these other guys might be big time players from where they're from, but here that means jack shit, and we have something that they don't.'
'I think i know what you're going to say, but i'll ask either way; what?'
'Family'
A long silence follows the word, before Sven responds with a laugh, 'Who are you, and what have you done to Max?'
'Oh fuck you, i'm doing my best to be nice here.'
'Well, thanks, i appreciate it, but that doesn’t make it less weird.'
'So i should stop?'
'No, please don’t do that, it’s nice to have a decent guy in my head for once, but i get the feeling i shouldn’t get used to it.'
'Nope, talking like this feels really weird, so i think i’ll stop now… Fuckface.'
'There he is, there’s my big brother!'
'Ugh, that really did feel awful.'
'Do you need anything to readjust, some metal, maybe the blood of the innocent?' Sven's voice has taken on much of the same mocking tone that Max often uses
'Oh! There’s a Devourment concert on tonight, if leave now we can probably find someone selling tickets outside!'
'So we pay thousands dollars to get in?'
‘C’mon, we’re getting a PPV bonus this weekend anyway, we have some money to spend!’
Sven considers this for a few seconds, until he gets an idea.
'Alright, but we’re stopping by an electronics store on the way there, we need a camera.'
Max laughs, 'What are going to make the money back by recording the concert?'
'No, we’re going to introduce ourselves…'
To: spencer.adams@uciwrestling.com
From: insanehardcoredarling@gmail.com
Subject: Promotional Material for Meltdown
2 Attached Files
Text: Hey boss, got two files that i’d like the promotional team to edit together, it should be fairly obvious what they should do, should drive up PPV buys for Meltdown a bit if you post this on the website.
To: insanehardcoredarling@gmail.com
From: henry.davis@uciwrestling.com
Subject: Re: Promotional Material for Meltdown
Text: The video is edited and uploaded to the website, we think you’ll be happy with it, should draw some sales too.
P.S. Spencer wants to talk to you about getting an official UCI email account, your current one is 'a bit unprofessional'
UCI Meltdown: Sven and Max welcome the new signees, uciwrestling.com
The video slowly fades in, revealing Sven sitting in his black office chair, drying his hair after a post-workout shower; Sven is smiling a pleasant, welcoming smile, his upper body covered by a smart black button-up shirt.
'Hi there, and if you’re one of the eleven competitors i’m facing on Sunday, then welcome to UCI, i hope you have a long and successful tenure, once you get over your crushing defeat at my hands, coming up this Sunday.’ Sven’s smile widens, but he makes sure to keep it friendly, showing everyone that he is merely joking around.
‘My name is Sven Alexander, best known for touring the European indie circuit, especially the more hardcore federations; my win against Jericho Salazar in my debut match, where i slipped out from right underneath his curb stomp, and rolled him up; and lastly for the actions that my rogue personality took after the tag match last week, which sadly left the man known as ‘Fang’ with his arm in a sling.’
Sven turns his gaze directly to the camera lens, his expression no longer nearly as jovial as before, ‘Mr. Porter, it only feels right to use this more formal name, i have already extended my apology on twitter, but i will do it again here, it made my heart lighter to hear that you were healthy enough to still compete in the Battle Royal, even if that means that you are going to be gunning right for me, and I’m not kidding myself; I am very well aware that you will be going at me with everything you have, which i’m afraid makes you a threat to me, which means…’
Sven leans back, pushing his fists into his forehead as a sharp headache hits him, he jerks his head back down, and as he does the whole scene shifts, the chair changes to a simple fold up chair, the well tailored shirt switched with a stained T-shirt, his wet hair looking to be an effect of having partaken in the violent mosh pit taking place in the background to the sounds of the guitar riffs and death growls of Devourment.
Max Raises his head, staring into the camera, ‘Which means that you’re one of the many things in this world that make me angry, and trust me, as Einstein once said “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”. Now sure, you probably think that i’m some little emo wannabe, always angry at the world, but the thing is that not one single person on this damn roster has seen me angry, you’re just misinterpreting what you see when I’m happy, but you’ve threatened my little brother, and he’s very precious to me; we’re family, and though family may fight, and trust me, brothers fight a lot, we look out for each other, and you’re going to find out just how far I’m willing to go for that.’
I’m sure you’re watching this right now, sitting in some luxury penthouse with your favorite kind of liquor, and laughing at me, because you see as an idiot, “Who would ever attack someone else but not finish the job?” Oh trust me, I wanted to destroy you, i wanted to pulverize every last bone in your arm, but alas…’
‘That would have caused too much friction between me and Sven, it would have made us unable to work together on Sunday, you see, removing you from the equation would have lowered our chance of victory, but this is more than good enough. Because Fang, you really are a wolf; a strong, clever animal that would have been a real threat to me.’
‘But have you ever seen a wounded wolf, Fang? It’s a pitiful sight, it will lash out at whatever it sees at a threat, all the intelligence that can usually be seen when you gaze into their eyes is gone, replaced by a blind rage, making it’s moves far more violent, but also predictable, and any moderately skilled hunter is able to trap them, skin them, and hang their pelts on their wall, that is your future Jonathan, to hang on our wall, see you Sunday.’
Max smirks before blinking and shaking his head, clearing his vision; the scene turns back to the Chicago apartment and Sven looks to the camera, ‘Yeah, that’s what it means; now excuse me Fang, there are other competitors that need my attention.’
‘Foremost among them is you, Lara, now i admit, i had a lot of doubt about you when i first saw you, i thought that you were having just a little bit too much fun, and when i finally got my hands on you last week, I’m sorry to say it, but you proved to me that i was absolutely right, you tried, don’t get me wrong you tried, but you didn’t give it your all, i never saw you grit your teeth, had you really tried you could have gotten past me and broken up the pin in our match, but you didn’t.’
‘You let me hold you back and keep you from winning the match. Now ms. Chang, I understand you, you thought that the world of pro wrestling would be fun, that it would be a roller coaster, lots of ups and downs but ultimately entertaining, but you’re wrong, this life isn’t a roller coaster, it’s a God. Damn. Brick. Wall.’
‘A brick wall that stands between you and your goals, every one of the bricks is another opponent; each one must be torn out of the wall, so you scratch, so you claw, so you smash your head against the wall, trying to loosen the brick enough that you may tear it from it’s socket!’
Sven stops for a moment, breathing deeply, doing his best to get himself under control.
‘Do you know what you are in this metaphor, Lara? You are one of eleven bricks, eleven bricks that have been designated as the next ones that i must get out of my way.’
‘And last Sunday, last Sunday was me feeling out what I’m up against, and do you want to know what i felt? I felt a brick just budge as i brushed it, you have no passion, no drive, no reason for you to continue the fight, You, Lara, have no MORTAR, nothing holding you there, nothing keeping you in my way, and this Sunday, I’m afraid that you will be thrown away.’
‘As for the rest of you, after looking you all up i have a good idea of what we’re up against, I stand before a wall made up of disparate parts, on some i can see the countless claw marks of those that have come before me, the other who have tried to wrench you out of their way, and from the looks of it I doubt that their success rate in that is very high...’
Sven leans back and sighs, seemingly finished, until he leans back in, locking his eyes back at the camera
‘Kestrel’
He lets the name sink in a bit, making sure anyone who is watching catches exactly whose name he said.
‘You’re the one who stands out to me, you sure know how to make an impression. That…’
Once again, Sven’s head jerks to the side, and the scene changes, as Max looks back at the camera, a wide smile on his face, he looks almost adoringly at the camera.
‘That little encounter you had with Eliza was something else, the way you just tore her arm out of it’s socket, oh it was something else, I had some real hope for you, i thought that i might have found a woman of my own heart; finally, an opponent that was more than just something to be torn away and discarded, someone interesting.’
His smile slowly fades and he leans back, gazing down at the camera.
‘But then i saw who you had joined forces with, my hope was dashed, David fucking Sanchez, You team up with Sanchez? I had such hope for you when i first saw you Kestrel, but it turns out you’re just another little suck up, destined to live out your career here in UCI sitting in the lap of Sanchez, eating whatever scraps he decides to throw you.’
‘Now i’m sure that you have a plan, you’ve convinced yourself that this is a temporary arrangement, i’m guessing that you plan on turning on him as soon as he turns him back, as soon as it becomes more profitable to you, but guess what little girl?’
Max leans forward once again, glaring down at the camera, a smile creeping back over his face
‘Everyone can see straight through you, I can do it, Sanchez can undoubtedly do it, hell even Sven realized exactly what you were doing. Which is exactly why it won’t work, Sanchez will keep you placated, he is the mayor of Chicago, keeping you placated won’t be a problem for him, he’ll keep you on his side for as long as it helps him, then he’ll cut you loose, and someone will find your bloated corpse floating down the Chicago river, where your last impact on this world will be clogging some industrial sewer pipe, before ending up as an horror story that housewives talk about for a few weeks, that’s all your plan will make you, an icebreaker at some unusually stiff and boring dinner party.’
Max smirks at the camera, before reaching for something off screen, his hand comes back with a plastic cup, filled to the brim with cheap concert beer, as he takes a swig the camera flickers back and forth between the two scenes, until it stops, once again showing a view of Sven, currently taking a swig of water.
‘So, you have heard what we have to say, you have all seen what relationship we have, and this Sunday, you will see what we can do when I let Max loose in the Squared circle, what we can do when we work together, you are looking at the body of next Rising Stars champions, and you will see us, this Sunday.’
The video fades to black as Sven takes another sip of his water, the video is followed by an advertisement for Meltdown, set to “Downfall” by Trust Company.
'You’re mad at me aren’t you?'
'Gee, you think so?'
The sneer that crosses Sven's face does not go unnoticed by the men escorting him, they turn to him, clearly ready to restrain him.
Sven puts his hands up, attempting to reassure them that he’s fine 'Woah, i was just thinking about one of my coworkers!'
The men appear to accept the excuse, but the shorter of the pair makes sure to stay a few inches further away from Sven for the rest of the walk.
'That’s my boy, lying like a champ’.'
'Yeah well, i can’t say that i think about my imaginary coworker all the time, so shut up for once will you?'
The trio finally arrive at 'room four-eight-five-nine' as the institution staff insisted on calling it, and if all went well, it would be the final stop of his visit to Sweden.
This far into the building the architects had given up trying to make the environment soothing; gray, exposed concrete has fully replaced the sterile white of the reception area. The rooms themselves illuminated only by naked light tubes, making the slight irregularities in the concrete stand out with dark shadows, making the scene feel more like that of a horror movie than that of a house dedicated to mental care.
4859 must be the room that got the entire year's budget, in sharp contrast with the sparsely furnished rooms where the interview was held it contains several metal boxes covered in displays and softly blinking lights, none of which Sven can decipher the meaning of, but he prefers not knowing exactly is going to be connected to his body.
But the thing that draws Sven's eyes to it, what truly draws his attention, what he cannot turn his eyes away from, is the soft, plastic reclining chair standing in the center of the room, to which wires from all the machines are drawn, connect to all manners of vital sensors and electrodes, all of them covered in some form of disinfectant liquid, probably designed to feel as uncomfortable as possible when touching the skin of a human being.
Sven is instructed to sit down, he thinks that Max makes some form of snarky remark about… something, but Sven is simply not able to focus on it, the reality of what is about to happen starting to reach his mind.
'Max…'
'Yeah?' Max somehow manages to smirk without actually moving a muscle, not noticing the terrified voice of Sven.
'There is no way this works, right? That you disappear, or that we… merge, and we become someone else?'
'Oh Sven, we've talked about this...' Max normally mocking tone takes on the almost motherly quality it only has when he tries to comfort his other half, 'As long as we hold on to each other, none of their treatment can ever come close to tearing us apart, as for the Merging, that was just the insane ramblings of a psychologist who wanted to become famous, there is no truth to it, none at all.' Of course Max had never studied the claims of that psychologist, and had no idea of the actual validity of his claims, but he felt it would be better if he left that unsaid, Sven needed all the hope he could get.
'”Just hold on”, you're sure that'll work? Sven wipes his eyes with the back of his palm, not wanting the institute staff to see the effect his inner dialogue is having on him, absentmindedly explaining away his movement with an imaginary loose eyelash.
'Yeah buddy, i'm sure...' Max struggles to keep his voice soothing, not an easy task for someone like him, but this is a special circumstance, '...now i think we need to start gripping tightly.'
The last comment is made as the staff start applying the different electrodes and sensors to his bare chest, Sven doesn't remember when he removed his shirt, but it hardly matters now, the operation is beginning.
'Hey, Max!'
Sven is standing in the far corner of his apartment, where he yesterday spent several hours hanging a punching bag from the concrete ceiling; his near albino white body covered in sweat.
'Yeah, what is it?'
'You've read the full card for Meltdown, right?'
'Yeah.'
'Well what do you think, do we have a shot?'
'We always have a shot, but if you're asking me if i think we're going to win...'
'That is the exact thing i was trying to ask you'
'Then yes, I think we will.'
'Seriously?'
'Yeah, all these other guys might be big time players from where they're from, but here that means jack shit, and we have something that they don't.'
'I think i know what you're going to say, but i'll ask either way; what?'
'Family'
A long silence follows the word, before Sven responds with a laugh, 'Who are you, and what have you done to Max?'
'Oh fuck you, i'm doing my best to be nice here.'
'Well, thanks, i appreciate it, but that doesn’t make it less weird.'
'So i should stop?'
'No, please don’t do that, it’s nice to have a decent guy in my head for once, but i get the feeling i shouldn’t get used to it.'
'Nope, talking like this feels really weird, so i think i’ll stop now… Fuckface.'
'There he is, there’s my big brother!'
'Ugh, that really did feel awful.'
'Do you need anything to readjust, some metal, maybe the blood of the innocent?' Sven's voice has taken on much of the same mocking tone that Max often uses
'Oh! There’s a Devourment concert on tonight, if leave now we can probably find someone selling tickets outside!'
'So we pay thousands dollars to get in?'
‘C’mon, we’re getting a PPV bonus this weekend anyway, we have some money to spend!’
Sven considers this for a few seconds, until he gets an idea.
'Alright, but we’re stopping by an electronics store on the way there, we need a camera.'
Max laughs, 'What are going to make the money back by recording the concert?'
'No, we’re going to introduce ourselves…'
To: spencer.adams@uciwrestling.com
From: insanehardcoredarling@gmail.com
Subject: Promotional Material for Meltdown
2 Attached Files
Text: Hey boss, got two files that i’d like the promotional team to edit together, it should be fairly obvious what they should do, should drive up PPV buys for Meltdown a bit if you post this on the website.
To: insanehardcoredarling@gmail.com
From: henry.davis@uciwrestling.com
Subject: Re: Promotional Material for Meltdown
Text: The video is edited and uploaded to the website, we think you’ll be happy with it, should draw some sales too.
P.S. Spencer wants to talk to you about getting an official UCI email account, your current one is 'a bit unprofessional'
UCI Meltdown: Sven and Max welcome the new signees, uciwrestling.com
The video slowly fades in, revealing Sven sitting in his black office chair, drying his hair after a post-workout shower; Sven is smiling a pleasant, welcoming smile, his upper body covered by a smart black button-up shirt.
'Hi there, and if you’re one of the eleven competitors i’m facing on Sunday, then welcome to UCI, i hope you have a long and successful tenure, once you get over your crushing defeat at my hands, coming up this Sunday.’ Sven’s smile widens, but he makes sure to keep it friendly, showing everyone that he is merely joking around.
‘My name is Sven Alexander, best known for touring the European indie circuit, especially the more hardcore federations; my win against Jericho Salazar in my debut match, where i slipped out from right underneath his curb stomp, and rolled him up; and lastly for the actions that my rogue personality took after the tag match last week, which sadly left the man known as ‘Fang’ with his arm in a sling.’
Sven turns his gaze directly to the camera lens, his expression no longer nearly as jovial as before, ‘Mr. Porter, it only feels right to use this more formal name, i have already extended my apology on twitter, but i will do it again here, it made my heart lighter to hear that you were healthy enough to still compete in the Battle Royal, even if that means that you are going to be gunning right for me, and I’m not kidding myself; I am very well aware that you will be going at me with everything you have, which i’m afraid makes you a threat to me, which means…’
Sven leans back, pushing his fists into his forehead as a sharp headache hits him, he jerks his head back down, and as he does the whole scene shifts, the chair changes to a simple fold up chair, the well tailored shirt switched with a stained T-shirt, his wet hair looking to be an effect of having partaken in the violent mosh pit taking place in the background to the sounds of the guitar riffs and death growls of Devourment.
Max Raises his head, staring into the camera, ‘Which means that you’re one of the many things in this world that make me angry, and trust me, as Einstein once said “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”. Now sure, you probably think that i’m some little emo wannabe, always angry at the world, but the thing is that not one single person on this damn roster has seen me angry, you’re just misinterpreting what you see when I’m happy, but you’ve threatened my little brother, and he’s very precious to me; we’re family, and though family may fight, and trust me, brothers fight a lot, we look out for each other, and you’re going to find out just how far I’m willing to go for that.’
I’m sure you’re watching this right now, sitting in some luxury penthouse with your favorite kind of liquor, and laughing at me, because you see as an idiot, “Who would ever attack someone else but not finish the job?” Oh trust me, I wanted to destroy you, i wanted to pulverize every last bone in your arm, but alas…’
‘That would have caused too much friction between me and Sven, it would have made us unable to work together on Sunday, you see, removing you from the equation would have lowered our chance of victory, but this is more than good enough. Because Fang, you really are a wolf; a strong, clever animal that would have been a real threat to me.’
‘But have you ever seen a wounded wolf, Fang? It’s a pitiful sight, it will lash out at whatever it sees at a threat, all the intelligence that can usually be seen when you gaze into their eyes is gone, replaced by a blind rage, making it’s moves far more violent, but also predictable, and any moderately skilled hunter is able to trap them, skin them, and hang their pelts on their wall, that is your future Jonathan, to hang on our wall, see you Sunday.’
Max smirks before blinking and shaking his head, clearing his vision; the scene turns back to the Chicago apartment and Sven looks to the camera, ‘Yeah, that’s what it means; now excuse me Fang, there are other competitors that need my attention.’
‘Foremost among them is you, Lara, now i admit, i had a lot of doubt about you when i first saw you, i thought that you were having just a little bit too much fun, and when i finally got my hands on you last week, I’m sorry to say it, but you proved to me that i was absolutely right, you tried, don’t get me wrong you tried, but you didn’t give it your all, i never saw you grit your teeth, had you really tried you could have gotten past me and broken up the pin in our match, but you didn’t.’
‘You let me hold you back and keep you from winning the match. Now ms. Chang, I understand you, you thought that the world of pro wrestling would be fun, that it would be a roller coaster, lots of ups and downs but ultimately entertaining, but you’re wrong, this life isn’t a roller coaster, it’s a God. Damn. Brick. Wall.’
‘A brick wall that stands between you and your goals, every one of the bricks is another opponent; each one must be torn out of the wall, so you scratch, so you claw, so you smash your head against the wall, trying to loosen the brick enough that you may tear it from it’s socket!’
Sven stops for a moment, breathing deeply, doing his best to get himself under control.
‘Do you know what you are in this metaphor, Lara? You are one of eleven bricks, eleven bricks that have been designated as the next ones that i must get out of my way.’
‘And last Sunday, last Sunday was me feeling out what I’m up against, and do you want to know what i felt? I felt a brick just budge as i brushed it, you have no passion, no drive, no reason for you to continue the fight, You, Lara, have no MORTAR, nothing holding you there, nothing keeping you in my way, and this Sunday, I’m afraid that you will be thrown away.’
‘As for the rest of you, after looking you all up i have a good idea of what we’re up against, I stand before a wall made up of disparate parts, on some i can see the countless claw marks of those that have come before me, the other who have tried to wrench you out of their way, and from the looks of it I doubt that their success rate in that is very high...’
Sven leans back and sighs, seemingly finished, until he leans back in, locking his eyes back at the camera
‘Kestrel’
He lets the name sink in a bit, making sure anyone who is watching catches exactly whose name he said.
‘You’re the one who stands out to me, you sure know how to make an impression. That…’
Once again, Sven’s head jerks to the side, and the scene changes, as Max looks back at the camera, a wide smile on his face, he looks almost adoringly at the camera.
‘That little encounter you had with Eliza was something else, the way you just tore her arm out of it’s socket, oh it was something else, I had some real hope for you, i thought that i might have found a woman of my own heart; finally, an opponent that was more than just something to be torn away and discarded, someone interesting.’
His smile slowly fades and he leans back, gazing down at the camera.
‘But then i saw who you had joined forces with, my hope was dashed, David fucking Sanchez, You team up with Sanchez? I had such hope for you when i first saw you Kestrel, but it turns out you’re just another little suck up, destined to live out your career here in UCI sitting in the lap of Sanchez, eating whatever scraps he decides to throw you.’
‘Now i’m sure that you have a plan, you’ve convinced yourself that this is a temporary arrangement, i’m guessing that you plan on turning on him as soon as he turns him back, as soon as it becomes more profitable to you, but guess what little girl?’
Max leans forward once again, glaring down at the camera, a smile creeping back over his face
‘Everyone can see straight through you, I can do it, Sanchez can undoubtedly do it, hell even Sven realized exactly what you were doing. Which is exactly why it won’t work, Sanchez will keep you placated, he is the mayor of Chicago, keeping you placated won’t be a problem for him, he’ll keep you on his side for as long as it helps him, then he’ll cut you loose, and someone will find your bloated corpse floating down the Chicago river, where your last impact on this world will be clogging some industrial sewer pipe, before ending up as an horror story that housewives talk about for a few weeks, that’s all your plan will make you, an icebreaker at some unusually stiff and boring dinner party.’
Max smirks at the camera, before reaching for something off screen, his hand comes back with a plastic cup, filled to the brim with cheap concert beer, as he takes a swig the camera flickers back and forth between the two scenes, until it stops, once again showing a view of Sven, currently taking a swig of water.
‘So, you have heard what we have to say, you have all seen what relationship we have, and this Sunday, you will see what we can do when I let Max loose in the Squared circle, what we can do when we work together, you are looking at the body of next Rising Stars champions, and you will see us, this Sunday.’
The video fades to black as Sven takes another sip of his water, the video is followed by an advertisement for Meltdown, set to “Downfall” by Trust Company.
