Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2019 13:28:04 GMT -5
Waiting Room at an Undisclosed Hospital
Masuda Jubei and Co-Commissioner Jason Zurra sit together like an old married couple, silent yet attuned, when an exhausted doctor breaks their silence. His fingers arch in a nervous bridge.
doctor: Are you the one with power of attorney?
Jason: Yes, is my brother going to be all right?
doctor: Time will tell. That dirty maneuver really did a number on his back.
Jason: What do you mean “dirty” maneuver?
doctor: Everyone saw Ascension. Well… unless you were in a coma or something. Which by the way, man it was fantastic—
Jubei nearly jumps out of his seat.
Jubei: We’re not wasting our time here for Neilson ratings. He came here for his brother.
Jason: Is he going to be okay?
doctor: You should come with me.
They both get up, when suddenly, the doctor stops Jubei with a palm to his chest.
doctor: I’m sorry, sir, but family only. You’ll need to wait here.
The two disappear into the sickly mass of noise, ringing phones and all out confusion. Despite it all, The Master takes a moment to ease himself into those chairs and take long, unabated breath. That is, until a small girl steals Zurra’s seat. His attempts to ignore the child only make her infinitely more curious.
Esmerelda: My name’s Esmerelda, what’s yours?
A paternal grunt usually staves off such creatures; this time, however, it brought her closer.
Esmerelda: Where are you from? Are you a samurai? My dad watches Bruce Lee—do you know him?
Jubei’s hands grip the chair’s arms with enough force to shatter bones.
Esmerelda: Do you like football? Do you like basketball? Do you like—
Jubei: Ore wa mastūa desū!
Esmerelda: Blah blah blah!
Jubei: Don’t you know what happens to little crybabies?
Esmerelda: Huh?
Jubei: They get visited by the namahage… you’re not a crybaby, are you, Esmerelda?
Esmerelda: My little brother is. He’s always whining and watching what he wants on TV.
Jubei: Good… because you don’t the namahage to find you.
Esmerelda: What do they want?
Masuda leers over his seat casting a demonic shadow from all that fluorescent lighting.
Jubei: Ten—maybe twenty or more—they come to house at the Little New Year—
Esmerelda: When’s that?
Jubei: It could be tomorrow. It could be tonight. Maybe, they’re already here!
Jason: Jubei!
The Master looks over his shoulder where a large nurse towers over the frail but improving physique of Jason Zurra. He waves Jubei over, whom leaves the curious girl flummoxed. They then follow the nurse up to a bedroom of five partitioned by triage curtains. Both come to the bedside of Roku Zete whose state appears to have stabilized.
Jubei: How long are we going to be here?
Jason: I’m staying tonight. Dante wants you to go to make a public appearance.
Jubei: Sick kids?
Jason: You’re World Champion. You aren’t invisible anymore. So long as can you handle a meet-and-greet without polluting their minds with oni and other midnight terrors?
Jubei: I will, but just remember, you’re with me because you’re scared of what Odin will do if he finds out where you’re hiding Roku.
Jason: You saw what he did!
Jubei: Some of us don’t fear the reaper… why do you?
He leaves that bombshell while following the nurse to where kids are waiting. Members of APW staff join him, including one of their entourage whose sole job is keeping the title safe during travel.
The Red Room
We see this vacuous space with architecture reminiscent of the Tokugawa Shogunate. Massive pillars and golden designs gild everything into an awesome sight. Aside from shimmering gold and this light source piercing godlike from a central hole, a fiery spot like a manmade sun, the rest of that strange place looks a reddish orange similar to the Golden Gate Bridge. Outlying corridors feed into this nexus, upon which that heavenly glow illuminates an empty throne. Two women of varying ages watch it from a safe distance with one taking the role of teacher.
Nancy: And that’s his spot.
Rachel: Whose?
Nancy: Oh come on, who else wants a seat like that?
Rachel: But where’s Jubei now?
Nancy: You can never tell. And so long as he never needs us, the world is ours to enjoy.
Rachel: What do you mean?
Nancy: I think it’s time you met the others.
They fall to the floor when an oppressive surge of energy slams into them. Nancy Wei, Rachel’s elder by at least twenty years, stays on the ground, craven to look up. Rachel makes that mistake; instantly, her vision blurs with bruised botches as the heavenly light forms an old man resembling Masuda Jubei. His outdated dress of a 19th Century officer and blocked gray beard all but cover up the Jubei she had come to know. His pearly white glove point in their direction.
Jubei: 6! How would you attack someone young, impressionable but too dangerous to approach straight on?
Nancy: Yes, Master…. Your best approach is not to weigh upon traditions. Instead, use your age and trickery to lure your opponent into—
Rachel: What do you want from us?
Jubei: Silence!
Rachel rises but only reaches halfway when her body petrifies.
Jubei: Does 15 speak for you?
Nancy: No Master.
Jubei: Then finish your thought.
Nancy: Yes, master…. I meant to say that your opponent is young. If you work him into a frenzy, lure him into traps, or attack things he proclaims to be proficient in. It will make him crumble. He will expect more of the same—just as your last opponent did. Add in something new yet unmistakable.
That suffices, as the avatar of Masuda disappears into the sun above them. Rachel falls onto her chin, but has full recollection of her ordeal. Nancy Wei takes her to a seating area where an elderly man in sparkling business attire enjoys a grapefruit and mint tea.
Nancy: Harvey, here’s the new one.
Harvey: She’s cute. Too bad Jubei isn’t looking for flesh.
Rachel: What the fuck is this place?
Harvey: Honey, I think you should sit down. Day one is a total bitch… but we’ll get you through it.
Rachel: Who will?
Harvey: Alright kids, you can show all your pretty little faces.
On cue, twelve others of varying size, age, cultural background and appearance approach Rachel, Nancy and Harvey. They look terrified but equally as intrigued by the new girl.
Harvey: What’s your name, dear?
Rachel: Rachel… Rachel Bertram.
Harvey: Everyone meet Rachel. She’ll get to know you all in time, but for now, Nancy, why don’t show Ms. Bertram to her bedroom.
Nancy obliges, but without giving a tour of the expansive yet utterly empty space. Rachel still brims with questions that her new friend can mostly answer.
Rachel: Who’s that Harvey?
Nancy: Harvey’s been here the longest. He’s number 1 and has pretty much proclaimed himself mayor.
Rachel: So he’s the best of you all?
Nancy: We do so out of respect; otherwise, we’re close as family. He’s our little gay uncle and we love him dearly. Without people like Harvey Berlin, Rachel, this place might as well be a prison.
Rachel: How long have you been here?
Nancy: You should stop counting days. Because it only brings hope… and hope gets people killed.
Filmed prior to MNM
Open a shot to Masuda Jubei sitting in what seems to be the on-call bedroom at a hospital. It has several bunkbeds with a random nurse sleeping in a far corner. She’s jacked into her cellphone with earbuds, giving off faint sounds of Aloe Blacc over her sustained snores. The camera closes the shot on Jubei in his usual all-white business suit combo. Fluorescent lighting above him flickers from a warped light tube.
Jubei: Alpha Pro-Wrestling, what a time it is for this young company. We come back to after a huge success. Neilson ratings aside, we established a pecking order you fans have long separated online. Your guesses and predictions came true. Many, however, found themselves backing Mensheviks in the political struggle that is the APW World Championship. Each had their due. Each brought a respectful force to the field… yet only one can win the war. Now begins the era of Masuda Jubei.
He leans back to where his hands brace against the upper bunk. A window to the outside show a cityscape at night. The camera pans out so viewers can see both clearly.
Jubei: Political struggle has many roads to cross. The first is implementing a platform. Mine will be simple for you all to follow. I am your champion, and through me, all will be well. I fended off that rabid animal many of you backed in Braxton Locus and his man in the Iron Mask, Sammy Badmoon. Still, many try to paint me as the Richard III of this company’s ongoing story. They think I am not worthy nor heroic enough to lead this roster. I’m offended. Surely, you came here for entertainment. Are you not entertained by my brand of justice? Or will everyone continue photo shopping me onto pictures of dictators to the likes our modern culture has swiped left? Ponder that my people.
The view closes up on the window now, leaving only a sliver of The Master in shot.
Jubei: People tend to forget when bowing that you do not elect your kings. They come into power because the greater good lets them. Revolt will only end in the same result with my foot pinning another professed champion to the canvas.
A secondary shot pans to a side profile where Masuda has slumped forward.
Jubei: Great minds from the days of castles tell us that a king was actually known as two people. Two bodies separated by the throne of his edicts: First, a holy saint of a body that the heavens blessed into ruling the godless. No one challenged this authority because it meant damnation. How could gods be wrong? I say so because I have main event’ed this company for every show but one. Only one! That might not be what you people wanted to cast as a vote, but for betterment of APW, it is what we needed. Your votes mean nothing. We profit from your subjugation and nothing more. And we know you won’t turn away. The first body is your new APW World Heavyweight Champion… Masuda Jubei.
His smile, though calm, has a bit evil energy behind it. Hard cut back from the front with the window in view still.
Jubei: Secondly, there’s the real body. What you see every Monday Night Metal. It bleeds. It gasps for air after falling from great heights. You can almost touch this one. It has the same flesh and bones as you. This performer and showman dying in the ring for basest emotions and amusement. A gift onto so many households—everyone glued to flat screens, tablets or streaming devices—bringing them together. How quaint is a drop of human blood? Since gods nor angels bleed, it’s the next best thing. A manmade wonder dominating in spite of the challenges of mortal flesh. He is the hero you deserve.
The Master looks up from his spot gaining a darker expression.
Jubei: Threats surround my kingdom, and the peasants are watching—waiting for my response. Many say a great king must be ready for war even when the world is at peace. I am always ready to fight no matter what I wear. What I’m eating. Or, if you prefer, where I’m sleeping. Unlike our brave commissioner, I am not afraid of what lurks at night. Nor threats from outside powers like Odin Balfore. Every horizon is a danger, and crossing them can mean a downfall. If you spend every waking moment fearful of the road ahead… then how can you ever call yourself a king?
Jubei wipes his brow.
Jubei: I spend my mornings wondering about this talent Smith Jones. The champion many want to defeat me within a month’s time. Preparations are already underway. Yet what I find when building my castle, one brick at a time, but the scornful face of a man whose bones built my campaign. Another soul many rallied behind only to retreat after his downfall. The Korean ying to my Hanshin Yang: Nyeo Son.
Something moves past the window. Suddenly, a hand holding a kitchen knife taps on the window. Jubei looks forward without flinching as its face, more a soulless red mask, comes into view. The nurse on the top bunk looks over and her soul leaps out of her body.
nurse: No no no! What the fuck!
Jubei keeps looking straight into the camera during her departure. Then, he waves, and the monster outside leaves the shot into the dark of night.
Jubei: Namahage… bogeymen coming for all the crybabies who’ve forgotten their place. Neglected their duties to the ones that feed them. Disobedient is the face of their masters. What else can we do with such insolent brats as Nyeo Son but teach him a lesson? He takes to Twitter to demure what I am. What I have become. He derogates my place as champion by ridiculing my age. I warned him to sip his tea and shut up. Instead, he begs and begs until I have no choice but discipline him. Now, I’m going to seal his little mouth for good.
The lights flicker more until it all goes dark. After a moment, they return, but Jubei is alone no longer. A dozen figures wearing straw costumes and red oni masks space about them that hospital garrison.
Jubei: You may not be afraid now, Nyeo-chan, but this will be the launch of a new empire. I begin my tenure by vanquishing a heated rival. Someone the peasants once again rally behind for a victory. No. This will be another flexing of my newfound powers. That inevitable snap of leather lashing you for even thinking we are on the same level. You don’t want to bow—fine by me.
All the figures flash their high-tech culinary knives in unison.
Jubei: I am The Master and the commander of APW… and it all begins Monday night in a redoubt you think will keep you safe. A steel cage in the face of Alpha’s most powerful army. Let me thank you now, in my soldiers’ place, Nyeo-chan, because they are hungry for a fight. Yet I look around see you have nothing to field against us. Only that stubborn boyish charm you brought against me last time. How far did that get you?
Jubei stands off the bed when one of the monsters fastens the belt around his waist.
Jubei: I would have put the title on the line against you. But the powers that be didn’t think you had any legitimate claim at my throne. No bloodline worthy of its divine mandate. Here we are instead: Two men in our mortal bodies fighting for your last grain of respect. My army will siege that steel castle and sunder its interlocking walls. You might feel safe in a metal box with me, but it’s the last place anyone wants to be, Nyeo-chan. Kings execute dissidents and silence their big mouths. You lovingly placed your own neck on the chopping block. Who does that? Oh wait… crybabies who don’t understand how good they have it.
The lights go off again, and when they return, all of the monsters are gone.
Jubei: I hope you sleep well tonight. When you mess with the king of the darkness, remember that nowhere is safe. No shore nor mountain unseen by him. No castle is impervious to where my darkness spreads. You can either join the rest in bowing at my feet or face execution. I’d wait but we already know which option you’ll pick. Extermination it is…. Now to employ the worst weapon in my arsenal. You endured my Masuda Driver—that won’t be enough to teach these people what happens when they disobey my authority! Welcome to the age of the piledriver as I stamp your name into the APW history books. Another bullet of excommunication pressed by my divine signet. Tack your 99 treatises online, and yes, many will read them. But for every word you make in sedition of me, Nyeo-chan, I will inflict righteous fury upon your soul. Ore wa masūta desū…. I am your master and this is my show.
Cut feed.
Masuda Jubei and Co-Commissioner Jason Zurra sit together like an old married couple, silent yet attuned, when an exhausted doctor breaks their silence. His fingers arch in a nervous bridge.
doctor: Are you the one with power of attorney?
Jason: Yes, is my brother going to be all right?
doctor: Time will tell. That dirty maneuver really did a number on his back.
Jason: What do you mean “dirty” maneuver?
doctor: Everyone saw Ascension. Well… unless you were in a coma or something. Which by the way, man it was fantastic—
Jubei nearly jumps out of his seat.
Jubei: We’re not wasting our time here for Neilson ratings. He came here for his brother.
Jason: Is he going to be okay?
doctor: You should come with me.
They both get up, when suddenly, the doctor stops Jubei with a palm to his chest.
doctor: I’m sorry, sir, but family only. You’ll need to wait here.
The two disappear into the sickly mass of noise, ringing phones and all out confusion. Despite it all, The Master takes a moment to ease himself into those chairs and take long, unabated breath. That is, until a small girl steals Zurra’s seat. His attempts to ignore the child only make her infinitely more curious.
Esmerelda: My name’s Esmerelda, what’s yours?
A paternal grunt usually staves off such creatures; this time, however, it brought her closer.
Esmerelda: Where are you from? Are you a samurai? My dad watches Bruce Lee—do you know him?
Jubei’s hands grip the chair’s arms with enough force to shatter bones.
Esmerelda: Do you like football? Do you like basketball? Do you like—
Jubei: Ore wa mastūa desū!
Esmerelda: Blah blah blah!
Jubei: Don’t you know what happens to little crybabies?
Esmerelda: Huh?
Jubei: They get visited by the namahage… you’re not a crybaby, are you, Esmerelda?
Esmerelda: My little brother is. He’s always whining and watching what he wants on TV.
Jubei: Good… because you don’t the namahage to find you.
Esmerelda: What do they want?
Masuda leers over his seat casting a demonic shadow from all that fluorescent lighting.
Jubei: Ten—maybe twenty or more—they come to house at the Little New Year—
Esmerelda: When’s that?
Jubei: It could be tomorrow. It could be tonight. Maybe, they’re already here!
Jason: Jubei!
The Master looks over his shoulder where a large nurse towers over the frail but improving physique of Jason Zurra. He waves Jubei over, whom leaves the curious girl flummoxed. They then follow the nurse up to a bedroom of five partitioned by triage curtains. Both come to the bedside of Roku Zete whose state appears to have stabilized.
Jubei: How long are we going to be here?
Jason: I’m staying tonight. Dante wants you to go to make a public appearance.
Jubei: Sick kids?
Jason: You’re World Champion. You aren’t invisible anymore. So long as can you handle a meet-and-greet without polluting their minds with oni and other midnight terrors?
Jubei: I will, but just remember, you’re with me because you’re scared of what Odin will do if he finds out where you’re hiding Roku.
Jason: You saw what he did!
Jubei: Some of us don’t fear the reaper… why do you?
He leaves that bombshell while following the nurse to where kids are waiting. Members of APW staff join him, including one of their entourage whose sole job is keeping the title safe during travel.
The Red Room
We see this vacuous space with architecture reminiscent of the Tokugawa Shogunate. Massive pillars and golden designs gild everything into an awesome sight. Aside from shimmering gold and this light source piercing godlike from a central hole, a fiery spot like a manmade sun, the rest of that strange place looks a reddish orange similar to the Golden Gate Bridge. Outlying corridors feed into this nexus, upon which that heavenly glow illuminates an empty throne. Two women of varying ages watch it from a safe distance with one taking the role of teacher.
Nancy: And that’s his spot.
Rachel: Whose?
Nancy: Oh come on, who else wants a seat like that?
Rachel: But where’s Jubei now?
Nancy: You can never tell. And so long as he never needs us, the world is ours to enjoy.
Rachel: What do you mean?
Nancy: I think it’s time you met the others.
They fall to the floor when an oppressive surge of energy slams into them. Nancy Wei, Rachel’s elder by at least twenty years, stays on the ground, craven to look up. Rachel makes that mistake; instantly, her vision blurs with bruised botches as the heavenly light forms an old man resembling Masuda Jubei. His outdated dress of a 19th Century officer and blocked gray beard all but cover up the Jubei she had come to know. His pearly white glove point in their direction.
Jubei: 6! How would you attack someone young, impressionable but too dangerous to approach straight on?
Nancy: Yes, Master…. Your best approach is not to weigh upon traditions. Instead, use your age and trickery to lure your opponent into—
Rachel: What do you want from us?
Jubei: Silence!
Rachel rises but only reaches halfway when her body petrifies.
Jubei: Does 15 speak for you?
Nancy: No Master.
Jubei: Then finish your thought.
Nancy: Yes, master…. I meant to say that your opponent is young. If you work him into a frenzy, lure him into traps, or attack things he proclaims to be proficient in. It will make him crumble. He will expect more of the same—just as your last opponent did. Add in something new yet unmistakable.
That suffices, as the avatar of Masuda disappears into the sun above them. Rachel falls onto her chin, but has full recollection of her ordeal. Nancy Wei takes her to a seating area where an elderly man in sparkling business attire enjoys a grapefruit and mint tea.
Nancy: Harvey, here’s the new one.
Harvey: She’s cute. Too bad Jubei isn’t looking for flesh.
Rachel: What the fuck is this place?
Harvey: Honey, I think you should sit down. Day one is a total bitch… but we’ll get you through it.
Rachel: Who will?
Harvey: Alright kids, you can show all your pretty little faces.
On cue, twelve others of varying size, age, cultural background and appearance approach Rachel, Nancy and Harvey. They look terrified but equally as intrigued by the new girl.
Harvey: What’s your name, dear?
Rachel: Rachel… Rachel Bertram.
Harvey: Everyone meet Rachel. She’ll get to know you all in time, but for now, Nancy, why don’t show Ms. Bertram to her bedroom.
Nancy obliges, but without giving a tour of the expansive yet utterly empty space. Rachel still brims with questions that her new friend can mostly answer.
Rachel: Who’s that Harvey?
Nancy: Harvey’s been here the longest. He’s number 1 and has pretty much proclaimed himself mayor.
Rachel: So he’s the best of you all?
Nancy: We do so out of respect; otherwise, we’re close as family. He’s our little gay uncle and we love him dearly. Without people like Harvey Berlin, Rachel, this place might as well be a prison.
Rachel: How long have you been here?
Nancy: You should stop counting days. Because it only brings hope… and hope gets people killed.
Filmed prior to MNM
Open a shot to Masuda Jubei sitting in what seems to be the on-call bedroom at a hospital. It has several bunkbeds with a random nurse sleeping in a far corner. She’s jacked into her cellphone with earbuds, giving off faint sounds of Aloe Blacc over her sustained snores. The camera closes the shot on Jubei in his usual all-white business suit combo. Fluorescent lighting above him flickers from a warped light tube.
Jubei: Alpha Pro-Wrestling, what a time it is for this young company. We come back to after a huge success. Neilson ratings aside, we established a pecking order you fans have long separated online. Your guesses and predictions came true. Many, however, found themselves backing Mensheviks in the political struggle that is the APW World Championship. Each had their due. Each brought a respectful force to the field… yet only one can win the war. Now begins the era of Masuda Jubei.
He leans back to where his hands brace against the upper bunk. A window to the outside show a cityscape at night. The camera pans out so viewers can see both clearly.
Jubei: Political struggle has many roads to cross. The first is implementing a platform. Mine will be simple for you all to follow. I am your champion, and through me, all will be well. I fended off that rabid animal many of you backed in Braxton Locus and his man in the Iron Mask, Sammy Badmoon. Still, many try to paint me as the Richard III of this company’s ongoing story. They think I am not worthy nor heroic enough to lead this roster. I’m offended. Surely, you came here for entertainment. Are you not entertained by my brand of justice? Or will everyone continue photo shopping me onto pictures of dictators to the likes our modern culture has swiped left? Ponder that my people.
The view closes up on the window now, leaving only a sliver of The Master in shot.
Jubei: People tend to forget when bowing that you do not elect your kings. They come into power because the greater good lets them. Revolt will only end in the same result with my foot pinning another professed champion to the canvas.
A secondary shot pans to a side profile where Masuda has slumped forward.
Jubei: Great minds from the days of castles tell us that a king was actually known as two people. Two bodies separated by the throne of his edicts: First, a holy saint of a body that the heavens blessed into ruling the godless. No one challenged this authority because it meant damnation. How could gods be wrong? I say so because I have main event’ed this company for every show but one. Only one! That might not be what you people wanted to cast as a vote, but for betterment of APW, it is what we needed. Your votes mean nothing. We profit from your subjugation and nothing more. And we know you won’t turn away. The first body is your new APW World Heavyweight Champion… Masuda Jubei.
His smile, though calm, has a bit evil energy behind it. Hard cut back from the front with the window in view still.
Jubei: Secondly, there’s the real body. What you see every Monday Night Metal. It bleeds. It gasps for air after falling from great heights. You can almost touch this one. It has the same flesh and bones as you. This performer and showman dying in the ring for basest emotions and amusement. A gift onto so many households—everyone glued to flat screens, tablets or streaming devices—bringing them together. How quaint is a drop of human blood? Since gods nor angels bleed, it’s the next best thing. A manmade wonder dominating in spite of the challenges of mortal flesh. He is the hero you deserve.
The Master looks up from his spot gaining a darker expression.
Jubei: Threats surround my kingdom, and the peasants are watching—waiting for my response. Many say a great king must be ready for war even when the world is at peace. I am always ready to fight no matter what I wear. What I’m eating. Or, if you prefer, where I’m sleeping. Unlike our brave commissioner, I am not afraid of what lurks at night. Nor threats from outside powers like Odin Balfore. Every horizon is a danger, and crossing them can mean a downfall. If you spend every waking moment fearful of the road ahead… then how can you ever call yourself a king?
Jubei wipes his brow.
Jubei: I spend my mornings wondering about this talent Smith Jones. The champion many want to defeat me within a month’s time. Preparations are already underway. Yet what I find when building my castle, one brick at a time, but the scornful face of a man whose bones built my campaign. Another soul many rallied behind only to retreat after his downfall. The Korean ying to my Hanshin Yang: Nyeo Son.
Something moves past the window. Suddenly, a hand holding a kitchen knife taps on the window. Jubei looks forward without flinching as its face, more a soulless red mask, comes into view. The nurse on the top bunk looks over and her soul leaps out of her body.
nurse: No no no! What the fuck!
Jubei keeps looking straight into the camera during her departure. Then, he waves, and the monster outside leaves the shot into the dark of night.
Jubei: Namahage… bogeymen coming for all the crybabies who’ve forgotten their place. Neglected their duties to the ones that feed them. Disobedient is the face of their masters. What else can we do with such insolent brats as Nyeo Son but teach him a lesson? He takes to Twitter to demure what I am. What I have become. He derogates my place as champion by ridiculing my age. I warned him to sip his tea and shut up. Instead, he begs and begs until I have no choice but discipline him. Now, I’m going to seal his little mouth for good.
The lights flicker more until it all goes dark. After a moment, they return, but Jubei is alone no longer. A dozen figures wearing straw costumes and red oni masks space about them that hospital garrison.
Jubei: You may not be afraid now, Nyeo-chan, but this will be the launch of a new empire. I begin my tenure by vanquishing a heated rival. Someone the peasants once again rally behind for a victory. No. This will be another flexing of my newfound powers. That inevitable snap of leather lashing you for even thinking we are on the same level. You don’t want to bow—fine by me.
All the figures flash their high-tech culinary knives in unison.
Jubei: I am The Master and the commander of APW… and it all begins Monday night in a redoubt you think will keep you safe. A steel cage in the face of Alpha’s most powerful army. Let me thank you now, in my soldiers’ place, Nyeo-chan, because they are hungry for a fight. Yet I look around see you have nothing to field against us. Only that stubborn boyish charm you brought against me last time. How far did that get you?
Jubei stands off the bed when one of the monsters fastens the belt around his waist.
Jubei: I would have put the title on the line against you. But the powers that be didn’t think you had any legitimate claim at my throne. No bloodline worthy of its divine mandate. Here we are instead: Two men in our mortal bodies fighting for your last grain of respect. My army will siege that steel castle and sunder its interlocking walls. You might feel safe in a metal box with me, but it’s the last place anyone wants to be, Nyeo-chan. Kings execute dissidents and silence their big mouths. You lovingly placed your own neck on the chopping block. Who does that? Oh wait… crybabies who don’t understand how good they have it.
The lights go off again, and when they return, all of the monsters are gone.
Jubei: I hope you sleep well tonight. When you mess with the king of the darkness, remember that nowhere is safe. No shore nor mountain unseen by him. No castle is impervious to where my darkness spreads. You can either join the rest in bowing at my feet or face execution. I’d wait but we already know which option you’ll pick. Extermination it is…. Now to employ the worst weapon in my arsenal. You endured my Masuda Driver—that won’t be enough to teach these people what happens when they disobey my authority! Welcome to the age of the piledriver as I stamp your name into the APW history books. Another bullet of excommunication pressed by my divine signet. Tack your 99 treatises online, and yes, many will read them. But for every word you make in sedition of me, Nyeo-chan, I will inflict righteous fury upon your soul. Ore wa masūta desū…. I am your master and this is my show.
Cut feed.
