2A: The Devil

The devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin’ for a soul to steal He was in a bind ‘cause he was way behind, and he was willin’ to make a deal

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“To borrow a phrase…

EYES!




ON!




ME!




Is that the story you’re wanting to tell, Louis? So many eyes on me, and not enough on you? Damn man, if I didn’t know to expect better from me, I’d almost think that the ol’ green, envy monster is gnawing on your funparts.

That can’t be it though!

Can it?

It seems too simple; too lacking in conviction. Dare I say, it seems too heartless?

I know! I know! Nobody’s ever accused Louis D’Ville of having the warm and fuzzies, but with the way you’re talking, Lou, you might just need a shoulder to cry on.

Let’s piece this fucking mess together - you, Dr. Louis D’Ville, ’King’ Doc, want people to feel sorry for you? Did I fucking get that right? Surely not? Surely this is some gross misunderstanding? I mean… if there’s cause for sorrow, I’m here for a cuddle, man. We can hug it out any day of the week. But you can’t bury the lead. Just what should we be feeling sorry for you about? Your success? Your malevolence? Your heartlessness? Fucking what?

Those masses that you spoke of, the ones accusing you of wronging them, have you ever tried to stop and look through their eyes? I don’t know exactly of whom you speak - I was kinda locked away for a few years, you know? - but from my experience to date, I’d think that maybe… just maybe… they’re right. Ask yourself, Louis… did you take something from them? After all, you’re fucking threatening to take something from me! Firstly, there’s all the thinly-veiled shit. Kudos on being a top tier creepy bitch, by the way! But moving beyond that, just for this moment, you’re trying to take away my one goddamn opportunity for answers. And according to you, this is what the people want! They want a light at the end of the tunnel for me, they want me to hold the universe in my hands. And you what… want to rip that away from them? From me? Jeez… how could anyone ever get mad at you for that?

And here I thought I had the corner covered in terms of sob stories.

Maybe I’m reading into it too much though? I was out here asking for a bit of honesty from you, but maybe there isn’t any more to Louis D’Ville than what we see: a bunch of obscure pretense and a few smoke and mirror tricks. That would be so disappointing for me. And for you. And for well… everyone. Imagine how Betsy Granger will feel after turning to you for help, only for you to be exposed as… well… human.

Louis D’Ville with feelings, whodathunkit?

This is all a game though, right? You’re not really annoyed that people are feeling sorry for me. Thank fuck, because that’s not exactly what I’m going for here. Rather, it sounds like your knickers are in a twist because I can win and not piss people off in the process. Fucking shocking, right? How can an underdog be so successful?

Newsflash, cunt, it’s because - like I said last time - my success isn’t predicated on wins and losses.”

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When he came across this young man sawin’ on a fiddle and playing’ it hot And the devil jumped on a hickory stump and said “boy, let me tell you what”

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“But something about that chaps your ass, doesn’t it, Louis?

It’s because of who you think that I am.

Frightened.

Bothered.

Helpless.

Troubled.

All of those other fun adjectives.

Here’s the thing though, bud, you’re stuck viewing things from your typical, singular perspective - just like with the masses you critiqued before. You’re so used to playing inside minds that have done everything they can to keep you out, you have no fucking idea what to do with somebody who welcomes you in. But that’s like… your opinion, man. And your opinion wants me to be like you.

I’m not though.

I won’t be.

You want me to be fierce, feral, and rabid.

Day one, right? That’s when you said you started watching me?

Well, you glossed over one big fucking piece of information that’s been there since day one.

I’m not a beast.

I’m not a critter either.

I’m just a man, playing the cards he’s dealt.

That’s it. That’s all. Nothing special, nothing magical, nothing mystical. I’m a fucking human being. And you got that wrong, not me.

See, it’s not that I’ve changed, it’s that you never fucking got it. ‘Self-liberation?’ Fuck yeah, now your talking my language. But ‘not a care in the world’? Absolutely not! You even said it yourself - you and I wanted to keep the universe safe. That’s a care, my man! A care that well and truly sits in this world, as well as all the others.

I care, Louis.

I care wholly, utterly, and completely.

And I’m not ashamed of that.

I’m not ashamed of being made a victim of over and over and over again. I’m fucking embracing it, and I have been for a while now. Catch up, son! I’ve started flipping the tables on that shit! It’s literally how Reggie Estrada got caught for the second time, and how Ash Quinn received her message too! It came from my mouth, my call, my fucking action! Taking things into my own hands is how I wound up standing side-by-side with your newest patient (delve deeper, bitch). For fuck’s sake, man, it’s even how this match came about! It’s how you stepped up to me! I threw the Bust of Themis on top of that cunt Lycana because I’ve made a fucking vow to take my power back! And I fucking am!

That hapless animal that you’re talking about… so last month. It’s been one way traffic since. And you… you’re just another fucking obstacle in the way. Like I told you, this is about me. I know your rep, but when it comes to me and my goals, you’re not even the big boss fight. You’re a stepping stone. To something bigger; to something greater; to something beyond.

It’s happening.

It fucking is!

It has to.

I look feeble, I look weak. Great! Que serà, serà. As a man in his what, three hundreds? You should know that looks can be deceiving. You might look down upon the people who have harmed me, but so do I. Just because I think they’re vermin, however, it doesn’t mean that I’m not looking for a chance for justice. (Fuck a double negative!) It doesn’t mean that I’m not looking for the opportunity to turn all of these trials and tribulations into something meaningful - to me, if not for you. My hand might look a bit fucked up, but it’s the scars within that drive me - regardless of what you fucking think about my struggles.

I’m not the monster you thought I was going to be. I’m something better.

But you know what? You’re not the doctor I ‘asked for help from’.

Oh my, I feel a warm draft coming through this opening!

Try harder, bitch.

But hey… at least you’re right about one thing. I’m a piece of lint, blowing in the breeze of others. I don’t always control which direction I’m pushed in, but no matter what the circumstance - I find a way to prevail. The long way or the short way, the hard way or the easy way, I’m overcoming everything! I’m overcoming you.

And if you’re right about how others are viewing my plight, bud… it’s not because they’re taking pity on me. It’s because I’m not the only piece of lint adrift upon the world.

We’re coming together.

We’re uniting.

And when enough lint joins together, the entire fucking machine fails.

This is what happens next. The status quo shatters. The ‘Doc wins’ party is over. You’re an end (Granny, does your dog bite? No, child, no!). I’m a beginning.

I win.

Flawless fucking victory.

, even.”

---

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2B: The Circle Of Life

The mind muddies.

A body falls from the cliff, painting a new scene upon the canvas. The tablet springs to life - scenes from a forgotten childhood, as real and animated as anything else.



A pretender sits upon the throne. Old, scarred, and duplicitous. He slinks across the top of the rocky outcrop as the sun rises over the savannah on a new day. He stretches his jaw, baring jagged teeth, worn and degraded over years of use. How many had fallen victim to his bite before? Fifty? Sixty? Seventy? More? All prey for the apex predator.

Strung between his fangs, a thin strand of saliva snaps and splatters. Globules of spit drop to the ground, moistening the dusty rock. Uncaring, he steps in it and gets his hands dirty. It matters not. As he takes a prideful seat at the edge of Pride Rock - his whole kingdom (which includes the dark, shadowy place) extended before him - he raises his tarnished paw in the air. One of the nearby hyenas is quick to lick his boot.

The hyenas themselves are growing in numbers. Some of the older ones have been pushed to the side, but at its centre - a core remains. Running a coarse tongue across the paw, the largest of them pays his respects.

“Just man up and put the bull testicle in in your mouth”, he tells the hairier, smellier scavenger next to him after getting his licks in.


“You man up and put the bull testicle in your mouth!” the hyena-with-the-good-hair replies. The lion’s foot remains raised.


“I already fucking did, man! C’mon!” Convinced, the second takes the lion in his mouth and the two hungry beasts work together to service him.

Only a few feet away, the smallest of the hyenas - elegant, and more cat-like than any of the others - raises her own black (left - once and forever) paw into the air, mimicking their ‘king’. A blonde member of the clan with a fat face and a dark strip of fur above its hind legs services her.

“You made it to the top of the mountain,” he says to the lion between fur-clogged licks. “What now?”

“We rule,” the cat-like female offers.

“You're goddamn right we do,” growls a darker beast pacing behind them. The lion remains quiet, choosing instead to watch the barren plains beneath them.

“Quiet this morning, huh?” the blonde beast deduces. “Care to tell us what’s on your mind?”

{stupidspookyfont}”Be prepared…”{/stupidspookyfont} The hyenas share bemused glances. Without explaining. the lion rises to its feet and sniffs at the air. He looks up and squints through the sharp rays of the sun. Wings flap, and a shadow appears in the centre of the orb of fire, blotting out the light in an eclipse. A bird? An angel? Or something other?

“The proletariat has spoken, and has judged you to be…”

CHOMP!

It was just a bird. A stupid, yappy hornbill hiding behind a stupid, ugly mask. And now? It was breakfast.

{stupidspookyfont}”Life’s not fair, is it?”{/stupidspookyfont} the lion asks as clumps of blue-feathered blood and guts spill out of the lion’s mouth. The hyenas scramble to get their fill, picking up the pieces of the lion’s victory. The lion ignores them, and turns his back on the lesser creatures. He walks past the rest of the clan, acknowledging one with a green tinge and another as large as a tank. Further still is a small, dainty yet mangy (((((train-wreck))))) of a carnivore. The lion snarls at this one, yet for some reason, it sticks around.

He marches his way back to the shade of a hollow carved into the rock face, curls up, and goes to sleep once more.

-----

The boy said, "my name's Johnny and it might be a sin But I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret, 'cause I'm the best there's ever been

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Two critters dance and frolic in the bush. Gleefully they chase one another through the thickets, leaping over blooming flowers and sliding under long-hanging branches. Simultaneously they jump over the edge of a small cliff and hang in the air, smiles plastered across their youthful faces. With a splash, they barrel into the small pond. Water spurts into the air above and from beneath the surface they burst up and into the air.

“YAHOOOO!” they shout in unison. Drawn to the water drops falling upon nearby fronds, a dragonfly hums to itself as it zips across the watering hole. With a gross slopping sound, the dragonfly is quickly hoovered up by one of the happy-go-lucky creatures.

The hungry beastie is covered in warts. By all objective measures he's repulsive to look at. The remains of two pairs of blunted tusks jut out from inside his mouth, long-since rendered impotent. They bring his jaw forward though, as if there was always something stuffed inside, be it dragonflies, cottonbuds, or a load of shit.


Still, his eyes speak of wonder and adventure. This warthog has tales to tell of balls of gas burning billions of miles away. With him though, everything’s gas. Thin wavy odour lines can literally be seen snaking their way above his entire body, even as he splashes about in the water.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” his friend says, side-eyeing him, always alert to danger. Though his coat is matted by the water, it’s brilliant lustre is only amplified by the droplets of water that cling to it. He shines, a golden hue covering a darker shade of fur - barely visible above the surface but all who would speak of him would remember it being there.

“Do what?” the ugly warthog asks.

“Eat the dragonflies,” his meerkat friend responds, floating his legs up into the water and gently backstroking towards the shore. “They didn’t do anything to you.”

“It’s what I do!” the warthog proudly declares as he begins to motor his legs to work. They churn at the water, creating a kind of propulsion for him as he swims towards his friend. “It’s in my nature! After all, wasn’t it your idea to leave the past behind?”

“I know, I know,” the meerkat mutters as he crawls onto land. The warthog follows just behind and they both shake themselves dry by the waterside. “I just can’t help but think that there’s something missing here. Something that we’re supposed to be doing. You know?”

“Uh…” the warthog stammers. He farts. Because he’s the worst. “No?”

“You’re probably right,” the meerkat sighs. “When the world turns its back on you, you turn your back on the world! I mean, it’s not like another younger, stronger lion is going to magically fall into our lap and solve everything! We’ve given up on that idea. Nobody is going to beat the ‘king’! I guess there’s only one thing to say…”

“Are you about to say what I think you’re about to say?” the warthog grins a big, hideous grin. Sweetly, the meerkat smiles back.

“HAKUNA MATATA!”

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When the devil finished, Johnny said, "well, you're pretty good, ol' son But sit down in that chair right there and let me show you how it's done"

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“HAKUNA MATATA!” the warthog repeats again, without a care in the world for the troubles of others.

“HAKUNA MATATA!” the meerkat replies, his spirits lifting.

“HAKUNA MATATA!”

{stupidspookyfont}”Que serà, serà.”{/stupidspookyfont}

The lovely meerkat and horrid warthog freeze in shock. Slowly, almost comically, they turn around. There, staring back at them, is the wily old lion from the top of the mountain. Snarling hyenas lurk behind him, patrolling small circles with their eyes fixed straight at the prospective prey.

“The king’s here for his tribute!” the blonde beast demands. A cackling laughter ripples throughout the rest of the clan, echoing from tree to tree.

“You said we didn’t have to be a part of this anymore!” the meerkat pleads. “You got your kingdom, what else do you want?”

The lion remains stoic. Suddenly... a bush rustles! A low growl, nay… two! Screaming of dissent! And out of the bushes jump two wolves - one blue, and one red.


The hyenas don’t wait. Outnumbered, they ravage the lost puppies and drop their bloody carcasses in front of the lion.

“Tribute”, the largest of them says, looking back at the warthog and meerkat.

“Leave us be!” the warthog begs. “You don’t need us anymore!”

“Tribute… motherfucker,” the hairiest hyena snarls.

Rustle. Rustle.

There is movement in the bush once more. And this time, prancing over the tops of the potential prey is an impossible sight! A unicorn with a horn full of stars and rainbows! It lines the lion up directly!

But it doesn’t make it.

The hyenas swoop in again. There are too many of them. An undefined hyena - one that thinks it more beautiful than it is - gets the final killing blow. Reluctantly, at the insistence of the cat-like one from the mountaintop, it leaves the unicorn’s ravaged corpse at the feet of the lion.

“Tribute,” says the cat-hyena hybrid, fury in her eyes.

“We don’t have anything to give!” the meerkat entreats again. “You’ve taken everything already!”

“You even took her!” the warthog adds.

]“Tribute,” says the darker, menacing hyena standing at the back of the main clan.

“Grrrr…”

Eyes widen amongst the antagonists - all save the lion himself.

“Grrr…”

“Grr…”

Two growls, from different beasts.

From different lions.

They leap into the fray. A male and a female - boyfriend and girlfriend, I guess. The boyfriend has a thick, rugged Main, while the girlfriend appears to be missing an eye. They square off against the enemy forces, seemingly more concerned with the hyenas than the withered, scarred, old lion. This time - just this once - however, the lion glares at the hyenas to step back.

He steps forward.

And dispatches the younger challengers with ease.

They crumple before him like all of the others.

Because this is a fairy tale; a fiction.

{stupidspookyfont}”Long live the king…”{/stupidspookyfont}

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2C: Non-Fiction

STOMP!








RIP!

TEAR!


A large gash appears in the centre of the cartoon world.


RIP!

TEAR!

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The chicken in a bread pan pickin' out dough Granny, will your dog bite? No child, no

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RIP!

TEAR!

The entire pretty picture begins to shred to pieces.

RIP!

TEAR!

STOMP!


RIP!

TEAR!

FUCKING STOMP!

The scene shifts...
























FUCKING STOMP!


FUCKING STOMP!

The puppets squish under boots that pound like a minotaur’s club. The cartoons melt away.

FUCKING RIP, TEAR, AND STOMP!







































“That’s a myth.

This is the fucking real world.”

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2D: Stripes

“I know that sometimes I process things a little differently. Sometimes I find that some visual aids help me to understand others’ stories - and that’s what that was, ‘Doc’ - and help me to make sure I don’t get too trapped in my own head. I don’t know which nameless doctor told me that, but hey, if it works it works, right? I’m not about to look that gift horse in its mouth.

I guess the point is, Louis, that just because I invited you into my head, it doesn’t mean that I’m living there myself. I’m not so fixated on my own story that I don’t see how others are going to try to interfere with that. I’m not blind! I see the way our world is unfolding; how all the sycophants are so quick to bend a knee as long as it serves their purpose. And I know what that does to the people like me whose very being couldn’t bring themselves to kneel, even if we wanted to. The odds are stacking against us, against me. I see it, I get it, I know it.

But as far as I’m concerned? It’s all just another hurdle for me to straight somersault over. Whether I do it by myself, or with some help, it doesn’t matter. I’m still going to fucking do it. It’s cute though hearing you try to undermine Corey’s actions when it comes to me. A bit odd, but… cute. Let me make sure that I’ve got this straight though... your explanation for Corey coming to my ‘rescue’ is because of… you? And Thad?

Sitting in a tree?

Oh man, you’ve got it bad.

I still can’t quite figure out the hard-on you have for the boy. I admit, you’ve got me stumped there! In the span of only a few minutes you flit between saying you failed, and then bragging about your victories. Kind of a weird play, but hey, you do you.

But you’re bringing Corey into this because you think he’s going to be some sort of guard for me against you? Or others? Really? Name one fucking time Corey has taking up fists on my behalf! You can’t, because it hasn’t happened. I asked him not to, one warm evening in Rome, and he honoured that request. This will be no different. Oddly enough, I do believe you when you say you’re not bringing anyone with you - when have you needed to? You’re not the same type of man as Reggie and his cronies. But even if all of the king’s horses and all of the king’s men - hiya Chris and Jess! - came a gunning for me, I’d still be asking Corey fucking Smith to stand down.

Because I’ve got this.

Honestly, this all sounds like an excuse from you, and my oh my am I getting continuously disappointed by your failings. Since when did Corey choose a side in this ‘friendly outing’? I mean, I can’t blame him for being all anti-you, but I’m pretty sure he’s been as fucking neutral as possible so far about his opinion. You’re out here setting up an excuse for a loss before it even happens! This is some shit straight out of Chris Page’s book!

Tick tock, motherfucker.

Or worse - Drew Archyle!

Uh oh! Such Anarchy!

LOL! You salty sea dog, you!

I really expected better from you.

And I know I’ll get better from Corey.

What are you trying to do, scare me off from him? I know his fucking story, man. You seem to forget that I reached out to him. I get it. Hell, you’ve drawn the parallels between the two of us yourself! But instead of making the logical leap of apples being stored with apples, you immediately suspect the nefarious. Because that’s the world you live in. So you see that he’s changed and in response you try to sow seeds of doubt about his authenticity. Because of the boy, somehow.

I fucking told you, Cor’.

In weighing up Corey’s tribulations, Louis, you’re making the fatal mistake of forgetting about my life. I’ve fucking showed you a snippet now. I’m not exactly a saint. But I’d like to think that if anyone understands what it’s like to be used for someone else’s purposes it’s the two of us.


So forgive me for trying to not hold someone’s past against them. Forgive him for doing the same. Didn’t you start your shit by lamenting about how people always view you as the ‘bad guy’? Wouldn’t you like something different?

Probably not.

Unless you’re honest with yourself.

But honestly, it doesn’t matter if the only reason Corey gives me the light of day is because he feels guilty about his own past atrocities. He’s showing development. Are you?

For how long have you told people that you’re the flame? For how long have you been threatening to snuff people out? Shit, for how long have you actually been doing it? Your threats don’t come without credibility. But I’ve been burned before, and I’m still kicking. And today? I’m fucking fireproof. Even better… I heal in the goddamn inferno!

You’re the flame?

Cool, bitch.

I’m tailor fucking made for walking through it.”

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The devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat And he laid that golden fiddle on the ground at Johnny's feet Johnny said, "Devil, just come on back if you ever wanna try again I done told you once you son of a bitch, I'm the best that's ever been"