Scene: Interior of the “Lock Down” Warehouse – Garage
The garage is dimly lit by a single naked, coiled light bulb hanging from the ceiling on a long cord in one corner of the room, and “Papercut” by Linkin Park plays from a small radio near the TV sitting on an old wooden end table surrounded by couches silently displaying the latest episode of “Lock Down”. Nearby, Sebastian St. Paul and Darina Weimer take turns working sets on an ancient weight machine set up in what could be described as the on site “gym” for St. Paul's crew of malcontent mercenaries. Bandages wrap Darina's arms and legs, and a patch of gauze on her forehead is stained just slightly crimson. Her ribs are wrapped with a large brace, and she is only using light weights for her sets.
Narrator:
“The four in one bench with its ripped leather seats and old rust; the wall mounted pulley system attached to a stack of weights to one side of the unit with the faded tape marks on the concrete floor; the old white treadmill with it's worn track and slightly cracked read out panel; the more than ancient stationary bike with torn hand grips; every piece old beyond it's years, and yet, they are still just as effective as any pay gym full of glistening new machines has ever been in molding the perfect specimen of Man, 'Simply Stunning' Sebastian St. Paul
The motions are the same, either here in a dirty garage, or at some corporate run ant farm where they push the need to buy their products to give each of the mindless muscle monkey's that they have tricked into being addicted to their way of life that sliver of an edge they all need to get one more layer of beef on top of their cake.
Here though, in the barely lit depths of the place these particular roughnecks call sanctuary; refuge; home; there is only the desire to be better. They share the want to go beyond the boundaries set before them by their own accomplishments and desires. They share the need to be prepared for every possible eventuality. They share the lust of the hunt, and the satisfaction of the the chase, but most of all, they share the common thread of being driven to a dark place, scared and alone, wondering when death would finally come to claim their tormented souls, and they were all brought once more into the light of day by their mentor and leader, Sebastian St. Paul.
Death creeps around every corner for them, and very few jobs have more associated risks than that of a professional bounty hunter for hire. Even fewer are more dangerous than this unit usually sees, as fame and fortune have marked them for targets by those who slink around in the shadows of night and take from those who actually work for the meager droppings society deems they deserve and humbly claim the scraps that are left of it by the vultures circling above the common man's head. Many men would take the bragging rights to pop that cap. There are plenty who would line up around the block to claim the street cred gained by dropping a TV Star famous for bringing in those hard to find criminals who require a different tactic to hunt down and apprehend.
Their fight, these lone soldiers who take to the streets of Jacksonville, Florida, while not a righteous war, is a war fought for the betterment of those who live here, none the less. It is a battle of attrition, the streets here the war zone, the lines between sides blurred by morals and pride. The pawns in this war are just men and women who have fallen into the pits of depravity, fighting for either of the losing sides in these battles with no winners.
Few souls who wander this desolate rock floating through space know the sting of defeat like these soldiers, brave in the face of danger, but standing defiant, resilient to the force of the wave crashing over their heads as they tackle the moral obligations of their own, fighting against the criminals who hold our citizens in tyranny in our own native streets. They wage this war in countless losing battles every day, and still they struggle on in their fight, despite feeling horribly like Tax and the Sentinel as they face their endless string of defeats with their heads held high. The difference here is simple. Here, with Sebastian's crew, even in defeat, every time the bad guy gets away, every moment that criminals lurk the streets in the night, every day that a wanted man wanders the roads before them, these mercenaries of justice know, beyond a Dark Shadow of a doubt, that they will one day find the victory. They will one day snap the cuffs together on the wrist of the tormentors of the everyman. They will incarcerate the guilty. They will rid the streets of the vermin that stalks those who are too innocent to defend themselves from the violent plague that is this life.
Tax, on the other hand, will wallow in defeat here in the WGWF forever. So, in the long run I guess there is someone who suffers defeat out there even more than these few who choose to fight the losing war, no matter how many battles are won. Tuesday Night, at All Hallows Eve, the man who does one thing better than any other will emerge the new WGWF TV Champion.
That man will be the one who can SURVIVE far better than the others.
What better man to strap on the NEW WGWF TV CHAMPIONSHIP... than a man who is already a famous TV Star known for his skills in dangerous elements of survival, no matter the cost? What better man to carry the new WGWF Title named for that flashy box that has all the little ants hypnotized by dinner time than a man who could actually be a great mold for the fat lazy slobs out there who watch our drivel to try and shove their oversized asses into? What better man to give the new WGWF TV Title the appeal it REALLY deserves than 'Simply Stunning' Sebastian St. Paul?
If it is ratings the WGWF is interested in, they should take a study of FOX networks, and run with a sure thing. FOX knew the ratings of 'Lock Down' would soar to a national market, and once St. Paul walks out of the curtain in San Antonio, Texas to his first ever WGWF Pay Per View, and walks out of the AT&T Center in his third week as a WGWF Superstar as the newest WGWF TV Champion, the WGWF won't need to worry about it's rating wars with the XWF at all. Battle Lines will be a pointless sham of a a PPV, as St. Paul will have already won that war for them single handedly. There will be no question who the better company is. Sebastian will have solidly set the WGWF rating bar far higher than it has ever been, and the XWF will be a forgotten memory of children playing at greatness in the shadow of their hateful foster parents, but he isn't about to wait for those numb nutted asshats in the front office to come to this conclusion on their own.
Oh no.
If he were a patient man and decided not to take matters into his own hands, he would have grown old and died like CCP and Paul Frost should have years ago. Instead they cling to life by spider threads of Raziel spittle, just trailing down the dicks of the WGWF Legends, great gobs of pre-cum just waiting to to be wiped away by the towel of irrelevance from the memories of all the fans who never gave a gawd damn about them.
Mr. St. Paul is more than ready, and far beyond capable of taking this tournament by storm, and when he walks into the AT&T Center, he comes with one purpose: to survive long enough to walk away with the hopes and dreams of men who wish they were better, and never will be.”
“You know, for professional cameramen, they seem to get your bad side on film a whole lot.” chirps Darina at the sweat soaked Sebastian St. Paul sitting on one of the torn leather seats of his relic weight machine as she watches the scenes fade from one to another on the tiny TV across the room. Suddenly, the scene changes from offices and board rooms to the streets of Jacksonville. We see the crew setting up to knock on a normal looking front door on a normal looking cinder block house. We see Owen and Darina taking up posts on either side of the door, and Sebastian making his way around the house to the back yard all alone. After a few moments of silent waiting, Owen lifts his left leg, and crashes his foot right through the front door and disappears through the portal followed closely by Darina. The scene is almost surreal in mute. We see them move through the house, and we can see their lips moving, but no sounds issues from their lips. They shout at each other, the lines creasing on their face as they make their way through a dangerous home filled with people who could each be a threat to their very lives. They move methodically, tactically, taking control of the house one room at a time, waiting to find their mark.
The camera shifts to the back of the house and away from Owen and Darina. We see Sebastian come in through the kitchen door and send two guys to the floor at gun point. He zip ties their hands, and makes his way into the next room, clearing the home a small section at a time. “What are you talking about? This face doesn't have a bad side.” he chides Darina as they watch on, reviewing the snippets of the actual event that took place, knowing there was far more going on that day than the camera showed to the world outside.
Darina laughs heartily, and replies “You're right Sebastian. There isn't a bad SIDE... the whole thing is like a damned Halloween mask.”
Sebastian looks over at her and smiles at her joke, then back to the TV as the climax of this episode is about to go down. Just then, Owen comes in from the office, and joins the two of them as they watch the events from several days ago unfold on the small screen.
Owen and Darina make their way into the back end of the house, and then, as they move down a hallway, a doorway at the end of the hall explodes into splinters as Owen dives back down a hallway out of the way of the shotgun blast that tore through the wooden door. Darina, however, was not so lucky. Several of the pellets from the blast imbed into her vest, and several more graze her arms and legs as she is thrown to the floor in the now shattered hallway. We see Owen scramble to the edge of the hall, and shout at Darina who is laying motionless on the floor, her arms and legs all akimbo after the blast that leveled her from the other side of the door. Owen screams for Sebastian, and then again at Darina who has yet to move.
Then, like an angel of wrath, Sebastian bounds around a corner from the kitchen, and barrels down the hallway, leaping over the downed Darina as Owen moves in behind him to recover her and get her to safety. Sebastian jumps at the door, driving his body through the remnants of it, and crashing into the bedroom behind it. Without hesitation, he opens fire at the man in the room. One. Two. Three. Three times Sebastian squeezes the trigger with his finger. Three times the flames leap from the barrel of his 45, and three times the Teflon coated shells find their mark, and drop the pedophile hiding here as he pulls the trigger on his shotgun for the last time, launching lead pellets without effect into the ceiling over his head as he falls to the ground. Droplets of blood fill the air as he falls, and the gaping wounds gush the crimson fluid of life as his soul drains from his eyes. Sebastian rushes over to the man as he hits the floor and kicks the shotgun away from him as he grabs his arms and zip ties his wrists behind his back.
“You didn't even hesitate Boss. You just took him.” Darina remarks thoughtfully to Sebastian as they watch the end of the episode unfold.
“If I had hesitated, he would have had a chance to finish you off. If I didn't let those bastards in the Philippines finish what they started with you, why the hell would I let that sack of shit? Besides, I kind of like having you around. When you aren't being a dumb ass and getting shot you do pretty good work around here.” Sebastian quips as he goes back to his set on the bench.
“I think you actually like the danger Boss.” states Owen plainly.
Sebastian thinks for a moment, the look of contemplation written plainly on his face, and then he turns to Owen slowly. “It isn't the danger I like Owen. It's the surviving. It's being good enough to walk away from conflict in one piece. It's the knowledge that someone else tried to take my life in their own hands and I walked away while they went to meet their maker. THAT is the part I really like. That bastard was a filthy molester. People like him make me sick, and I did the world a favor by alleviating our issues with him. I saved countless children from a trauma they don't deserve, and I would do it again in a moment.”
Sebastian gets up and makes his way towards the office, but turns before disappearing into the other room. “Come this Tuesday, I am going to show the entire WGWF just what it means to do whatever it takes to get the job done, when I walk into the AT&T Center and walk out with that brand new TV Title. Fuck the WGWF, and fuck the XWF. That Title is as good as MINE!”
