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JackCain · (09-07-2017)

It's another cold night in New York. Jack Cain is sitting in a diner, nursing a cup of coffee in a corner booth. An empty plate, with colours running from red ketchup and yellow egg yolk mixing together to create a dull, greasy liquid.

[Image: f51ef83d242863fb0f21ccfd210dffe6--punish...rnthal.jpg]

[Image: f51ef83d242863fb0f21ccfd210dffe6--punish...rnthal.jpg]

Cain regards his cell phone, watching Ravenhill's last promo. He turns to the camera.

So I'm an animal am I? You think - you REALLY think - that because I called you out on your pathetic little psychological scheme, that I've just "reacted" to you?

Well, I gotta tell ya, I'm actually a little flattered.

Animals are actually quite clever, some of 'em are even a bit brighter than your average human. And while we are the dominant species on Earth, there's one thing that you should never forget about animals, particularly predators:

In their own environment, they're much more dangerous than humans can ever be.

And what you're forgettin' in all of this pie in the sky claptrap about freedom of choice, and quotin' shit TV shows, is that you're comin' into my environment.

You're enterin' MY ring. You're enterin' MY place of work, MY battlefield.

MY killing ground.

Why don't you use your powers of persuasion to dig up people like The Ultimate, Super Mario, Dredzin, Thomas Nixon, Brock Lesnar - if you can find 'em. All disappeared since I knocked their teeth down their throats and sent 'em packin' with their tails between their legs.

Why don't you ask, or invite them via their own free will of course, people like Cadryn Tiberius, Doc D'Ville, Thaddeus Duke and James Raven - the real A-listers here - how good I am? They mighta beaten me, but ask 'em about pickin' glass outta their faces, nursing broken bones, findin' out they'd torn muscles they didn't even know they had.

See, what you seem to think is gonna be a pretty fuckin' easy walk in the park, is actually anythin' but.

There's a reason I won the TV Title, there's a reason Robbie Bourbon asked me to be in The Motherfuckers. There's a reason why the fuckin' Universal Champion respects me.

I've paid these guys respect, and they've done the same with me.

Then some fucker like you turns up and starts flashin' memes like a 12 year old old kid who think's he's grown up because he's discovered he's grown his first pubic hair.

You don't like me labellin' ya? Tough shit. It's really hard not to label ya, when you're such a fuckin' stereotype.

Cunt with waxed moustache hypnotises women to be his slave.

It's every emo kid's wank fantasy that you're livin' out, and a pretty lame depiction too. And I could play detective and try and find out more about ya, but really, what's the fuckin' point? You're another chapter in the same old story that people have been shillin' since the dawn a'time. I couldn't really be exptected to know too much about ya - because you're new, so unless you want me to use the Force or some shit, how exactly am I meant to know ya whole life fuckin' story. There's no fuckin' point in investin' further time in findin' out more about ya, because you're boring as fuck.

You can say you ain't bothered all you want, but the fact of the matter - and I KNOW you love dealin' in facts - is that you ain't provided enough information for ANYONE to learn anythin' about you, and maybe people ain't got time to fuckin' waste tryin' to work you out.

I look at ya, and I see a guy just desperate to be noticed, but not strong enough, or confident enough, to admit that all this smoke and mirrors persuasion bullshit is a way of screamin' for attention, but not wantin' people to look too close in case they see how inadequate they really are.

But you want people to think you're mysterious, and you have dark, dark secrets. But when you get in that ring, son, there's nowhere to hide. No secret you can keep.

Because for all the claptrap, you've proved nothin' out there - yet.

And that is a fact.

Talkin' of facts, lets examine a few more that you think I've assumed - and I quote:

Quote:FACTS KNOWN

A lady flew over my home.
A lady investigated my property.
A lady returned to my property and home.
A lady is in my home with an I.V.

To quote the Foo Fighters kid, "One of these things is not like the others"

Flyin' over your home? Fine - millions of people do that to mine every day - they don't end up with an IV in their arm

Investigatin' your property? Well, shit. Some poor girl turned up on your doorstep and wanted to know why you'd turned your house into fuckin' Lurch's holiday home from The Addams Family. Maybe she was lookin' for health violations and thought it was a good place to start? But Hell, even that wouldn't mean she ended up with an IV in their arm.

A lady returned to your property? I will agree with ya here, that's a fact. The only question is that is she was of strong mind and character, she woulda ran a million miles from your shithole in case she got fuckin' Rabies or somethin.

A lady ended up with an IV in her arm? See, this is the bit that sorta chucks your "I'm not scary" angle outta the window. The fuck type of doctor, vet or medic starts stickin' NON vulnerable people with needles. The lady had to have been weak to let some twat like you anywhere near her.

Quote:ASSUMPTIONS MADE BY JACK CAIN

I prey on women and those weaker than themselves.
I want people to think I'm scary.
I'm a bully.

Well lets take a look at some of those "assumptions".

If said lady wasn't bein' preyed upon - why ain't you doin' everythin' you can to get her up and about so she can leave? What's that ya say? She might not WANT to leave? Where's your evidence? Where's your proof? I'll get back to this when I'm pissin' all over your later argument.

If you didn't want people to think you were scary, why, pray tell, did you tell her you were already fuckin' dead??!! It's not exactly a "Hey, you ok? I found you outside my home and when you woke up you were in a bad way so I stuck you in a bed with drugs pumpin' into ya. Oh, by the way - I'm dead..."

Shit, you might need to work on that bedside manner. That IS a fact.

Quote:TRUTH ASSESTMENT

A lady flew over my home, researched and sought out information regarding the home. She found my name and ended up coming back to my home, which is considered trespassing. I never sought after her, so preying on her is not a fact. You also concluded that I do this to women after only one woman is known to be in my home. This is where that labeling would help you feel at ease, but not get answers to the questions.

Fuck me, did it ever occur to ya she mighta just wanted to buy your fuckin' house? Jesus, what do ya do to brush salesmen, cut their balls off and feed 'em to the dog? In truth, I did sorta assume that you'd done this to women before - plural - simply because you don;t appear to be a fuckin' beginner at this. Most guys who find a woman on their property might offer them directions, and if they are after that particular house, might invite 'em in for coffee - not stick a fuckin' needle in their arm and tell em they're a fuckin' zombie.

Still, far be it from me not to use facts.

Quote:And I'm a bully, why? Because a trespasser is in my own being treated for something?

I want people to fear me, why? Because the way I dress, talk or that my home is in a secluded area?

I prey on women because one, who broke the law, searched me out and is now in my home tied to a bed?

Gettin' sick of repeatin' myself here - so briefly:

Yes. Because you don't know she was trespassin'

Yes. BECAUSE YOU TELL PEOPLE YOU'RE FUCKIN' DEAD. Please never host a dinner party.

Yes. BECAUSE SHE IS TIED TO A FUCKIN' BED IN YOUR HOUSE.

Quote:POSSIBILITIES THAT ARE NOT KNOWN

How do you know that Kate isn't sick, and I'm helping her?

What if she requested me to do this after I told her some things?

Perhaps she serves a higher purpose.

Well, you might think she's sick, but you ain't a doctor, because you can't hold a medical licence if you're dead, so there we are. I suppose though, it depends on your definition of what "sick" actually is?

Some people might say I'm sick for hackin' a guy's eyelids off, but I'm as sane as the next guy, just have an urge to see blood every now and then. But from the rest of what this poor girl says - y'know, the bits where she says things like:

Quote:"Please let me go. Please. I won't say anything about you or him or where you live. Please let me go."

That's a bit of a fuckin' giveaway.

But hey, like you say, maybe she is "servin" a higher purpose? But if she is? Well, I can't really pretend to have any grasp of your after hours activities, and to be frank, I don't fuckin' want to. She might be servin' a higher purpose for you, but how much is she gonna be able to to do, sedated, tied to a bed, and bein' fed soup by fuckin' Igor? Not exactly up and at 'em is she.

Unless of course, you're just usin' her for your own ends?

To prove to yourself, if no one else, that you actually have some kind of control or power. To remind everyone that you are some kind of fuckin' humanitarian, workin' for the greater good, helpin' these poor people to see the light.

And not because you get off brainwashin' druggin, tyin' up and spookin' people.

Couldn't be that, could it?

Not when you're dead, of course.

That makes all this REAL menacin' doesn't it?

You might think I'm jumpin' to conclusions, but it don't matter to me. All that matters to me is THE FACT that you have a face, and bones, that I can crush. If you really are dead, then you ain't gonna feel it, but the laws of physics say I can still generate enough force to put you down.

I can still snap the fuckin' tendons in your legs. I can still break your ankles so you can't stand up.

There's more than one way to skin a cat - or a dead man.

You just have to make sure that, when it comes down to it, you don't fall for the bullshit.

You have to rely on cold, hard reality.

And I specialise in cold, hard reality. the 5.56 calibre kind.

Let's see how dead you really are.

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