Hey guys. Got kind of a big announcement.

Engy looks down over the lip of the roof of the skyscraper he's currently standing on. The street below is awash in the red and blue of police and paramedic emergency lights. A crowd has also gathered behind a police barricade, intent on seeing the spectacle. But what spectacle is that exactly?

I'm gonna kill myself.

Oh.

I've been thinkin' about it for a while. But I was always able to talk myself outta it before, ya know? “Hey, don't kill yourself, there's a new episode of MLP on this week!” “Hey, don't kill yourself, Ecto-Cooler is back for a limited time only!” “Hey, don't kill yourself, this could be the day Jenny's titty pops out in the middle of a match!” But lately, I just ran outta reasons. My brain's all twisted up and shitty and I'm....I'm rememberin' things....bad things....

Engy looks at the camera solemnly.

So, yeah, today's the big day. Engy road pizza. I wanna thank Madison and Dr. Bennie for helpin' me. I wanna thank Uncle Donald for all the tax payer monies. I wanna thank this camera guy for followin' me up here to film me killin' myself.....

The camera guy shoots Engy a thumbs up. Jesus, is being a sociopath a REQUIREMENT for the job?

And I don't wanna thank anyone else because they all mostly suck.

Engy starts to climb up onto the ledge of the building, but he stops for one more thing.

Oh yeah, here's what happened that led to this. Enjoy this flashback thingie. Hopefully when you come back they'll already be scrapin' me off the street. Bye!

36 Hours Before...

Yet again, we are within the confines of the offices of presidential psychiatrist Dr. Bennie. Engy is laying on the leather couch, with the esteemed doctor sitting at his head. Engy seems particularly off today, his fidgety body language betraying the fact that he doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. He picks at a scab on his palm, and then when that fails to dislodge the annoyance he brings it to his mouth and starts chewing.

So Engy, it's been a week since we last met. How are you doing?

Engy spits the scab onto the carpet.

Not so good Doc. I mean, I got that big pay per view comin' up, but everything else sucks. I got chased by some fellow black guys for no reason. Madison had a priest sprinkle some funny water on me. And Seth Feder keeps tryin' to turn me gay by makin' me think of his veiny, meaty cock all the time.

Oh my, it sounds like quite a bit has happened to you since our last session. How's your thinking? Have you been feeling any smarter?

Ehhhh, I dunno. Maybe?

It's clear by Engy's evasive responses that something is going unsaid. The doctor looks at Engy over the edge of his spectacles, drinking in his nonverbal signals.

Hmmmm. Well, the medication I've been giving you should have been having some sort of effect on you by now. Are you sure that there isn't something bothering you that could be getting in the way of you giving me an honest assessment of your abilities?

Doc, that sentence was like 6 or 7 words too long.

Dr. Bennie chuckles.

Ok, maybe we're not there yet. But let me say this. I've been thinking a lot about what you said in our last session. And I've been watching all your promo's online.

You have?!

Yes, I have. And there is one thing that strikes me. Engy, what do you think all this business about thinking your a black man, and confusing your history with a TV show, and worrying about your sexuality....what do you think all that has in common?

Engy sits up abruptly.

But I am a black man and my life is NOT a TV show! AND I'M NOT GAY!

Relax my friend, relax. I'm trying to help you. But, if you had to take a guess, what do those concepts have in common?

How the fuck should I know, you're the brain science guy.

The doc sits back in his chair, putting his red and blue shades in his lap.

Okay then, Ill tell you what I think. I think the thing that all those things have in common are that they cut to the most very basic aspects of your identity. Who you are. Where you come from. What makes you YOU. And I think you want the world to be just as confused as you are about who and what the Engineer is.

The doctor leans forward, and as he does so the shadowing on his face hits a different angle. It serves the unusual purpose of making him look like someone or something else, altering his countenance just enough to make him eerily unfamiliar. Engy leans away from the doc in response, as even he can sense the subtle tonal shift in the room.

But let's be honest Engy, your not as confused as you'd like us all to believe. You see, I'm very familiar with what the experimental medicine I gave you can do. Consequently, I know that some of the damage to your brain has already started rectifying itself. So I think you are improving. I think your memory is coming back. And I think all this identity confusion is just your way of trying to avoid the truth. My only question is why? What in there is so horrible that even a man as fearsome as you is afraid to confront it?

The doc lets the question hang in the air a moment. Engy gets to his feet and dusts himself off.

You know what doc, your right. My brain's better now. So I think we're done. Check's in the mail....bye bye!

Engy starts to head for the door.

Sit.

The word, though not spoken harshly, seems to reverberate with authority. The doctor gestures towards the couch. Engy turns back towards it, and inexplicably sits back down.

How....how did you do that....?

I asked politely.

Yeah, but....

Nevermind that. We need to get down to brass tacks. We're at a critical juncture in your therapy, and if we don't strike while the iron is hot all of this could be for nothing.

You mean I gotta talk about hard things?

Yes, the HARDEST things.

Engy whines pitifully, kicking his feet out like a small child.

Please now, none of that. Getting better takes hard work. It's a challenge, no doubt about it. But it's the only way your going to progress and become a better Engy.

Engy fiddles with the hem of his shirt, looking down and avoiding the doctor's gaze.

But what if the bad stuff I remember is really, REALLY bad?

I assure you, any secrets you may have are safe with me. Now please, lay back down, close your eyes and let the memories come to you. It may be scary, but try not to fight them.

Engy shoots the doc a hesitant glance, but then finally complies. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. And slowly, the memories start to creep in. And creep is the most appropriate word. They pry open the windows of his mind, slinking into the house like a knife in the night. Insidious. Merciless. Terrifying.

Engy is sitting on a frayed carpet in the center of a room. It's twilight indoors, the function of a sole dying light bulb. A woman is laying on the couch to his left. The needle is still in her arm. She's wearing a stained bathrobe, and she's naked underneath. Her legs are spread, and beyond her thighs lies the forbidden paradise he had only been able to sneak peeks of in the dirty magazines at the corner store. But the oddest thing about her is her face. It's just a black hole. There's nothing there.

Engy squirms on the couch.

Let it come my boy, let it come.

He knows he shouldn't look at the space between her legs. It's naughty and wrong, but it makes his insides feel funny and it makes his peepee feel good. He steals a peek.

But the monster sees him do it. He turns towards the monster, moving fast with a jaunty sort of hitch to it's walk. It seems to vibrate as it moves, never fully in the moment but in all moments. A beast beyond understanding in a yellowing wife beater t-shirt and blue jeans. His head is a hole too. But nonetheless we can hear him ranting.

YoU siCk sImPLe liTTle fUcK!!

He tries to run. He always tries to run but the beast always catches him. This time he grabs his ankle, twisting and pulling him back towards him. He begs him. He always begs and it never works.

YoUr worThLeSS! You liKe wHat'S iN thErE?! HuH? Be BETTeR iF YoU wEnt bAcK insIde!

Engy sits up, hyperventilating.

You know what Doc! I changed my mind! I'm an alien baby! I came from a dying planet and now I'm on Earth and I'm here to save people and make them happy!

Your not a superhero Engy.

But I can be! I can be anything I want. Just not this, ok? Just not this....

SO GO BACK in!!

The monster is too strong. Too, too strong. It grabs him by the head and forces his face under the woman's robe. Past the thighs. Into paradise.

Please Doc, Superman! I'll be Superman! Just let, just let....

You are NOT Superman. Tell me what you see! Quickly!

Engy kneels on the couch, his lips quivering and cheek ticcing. But it's too late now. The nightmares are in the house. They're in the house and creeping up the stairs and their knives are catching the moonlight, the light getting sucked into the nothing faces of the assassins.

He's in a bath tub now. The faucet is breaking off into flakes of rust. It's not in a bathroom though. It's in the middle of a large room, surrounded by people in scary robes. The woman and the monster are there, they are still wearing their nothing faces but somehow he knows it's them. The rest of the people don't have nothing faces. Just hoods with a weird symbol on them, like two bent triangles, one right side up and the other upside down, with a little star in the middle. “Thelema” the robed people say. “Thelema and The Book of Law”. It doesn't make any sense, which just makes it that much scarier. He covers his ears to drown out the strange words, the bad words, the nonsense words. Someone pries his hands from his ears and the strange words infect him again. “The Sword and the serpent.” “Thelema.” “Aiwass.” “Thelema.”

One of the robes brings a bucket over and starts dumping it's contents on him. Entrails, blood and viscera spill onto him. Getting in his eyes. His mouth. It's the first time he tastes blood.

“Thelema.” “Aiwass.” “Thelema.”

Engy, tell me what you see!

I'm blasting off from Krypton, doc! My parents love me so much that they gave their lives to make sure I'm safe! Isn't that nice?

TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE!

THELEMA. AIWASS. THELEMA.

NO! FUCK NO!

Engy rises to his feet, toppling over a standing lamp as he does so. He's gasping for breaths now, chest heaving with barely repressed panic.

Why can't I just be a superhero, huh? Why not? It's better that way. Easier. Please, please, just let me be Superman.....please....?

He's pleading now, black ashy tears rolling down his face. It strikes the doctor, in this moment, just how vulnerable he is. How childlike. Begging him to cling to a fantasy, to anything really, anything other than the wide awake terror that is his real life. The doctor, in a rare moment of humanity, finds himself overcome. He cannot speak. And then, Engy rushes for the door.

Wait! Don't go!

The doctor follows him into the hallway, but Engy is deceptively fast, he's already down the first flight of stairs. The doctor curses and pulls out his cellphone. He makes a call.

Yeah, yeah, it's me. He's starting to remember, but it's worse than I anticipated. I think it's in there, but he can't handle it yet. We need to activate the fail safe. Now.

36 Hours Later....

So, with that, we return to a man who is, quite literally, standing on the precipice of his own oblivion. Or, sitting on it at least. Engy's legs hang over the edge of the building, as police and emergency medical personnel down below prepare for the worst.

And there ya have it folks. The final nail in the coffin of my shitty life. Turns out the doc was right. All the dumb shit I say and do about myself is just a smokescreen for unspeakable horror. Fuckin' figures. So, toodles I guess....

Engy starts to get to his feet, when someone from down below booms out through a megaphone.

Mr Engineer, sir. I have someone down here who says that they're a friend of yours, and they'd like to speak with you!

Madison grabs hold of the megaphone, clearly looking annoyed.

GET DOWN HERE YOU TIT!

The police around her look horrified. The negotiator makes a neck slashing motion and frantically shakes his head “no”. Madison turns to him.

Chillax, I know what I'm doing.

I don't wanna come down, Madison! I wanna DIE. Which I guess means I DO wanna come down. But quickly. And die at the end.

WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS. THE JET IS PREPPED AND READY, BUT ENGLAND IS FAR, FAR AWAY SO WE NEED TO LEAVE!

No! I don't wanna!

Madison pinches the bridge of her nose with exasperation.

FINE! KILL YOURSELF THEN! KILL YOURSELF AND LEAVE ALL THAT UNTAPPED POTENTIAL SPLATTERED ALL OVER THE FUCKING PAVEMENT!

Ma'am, I think....

The negotiator moves to take the megaphone from her, but she palms his face and shoves him away. From out of nowhere, her cadre of secret service agents form a perimeter around her.

Yeah, that's right. I outrank you bitches. Try it.

And again, into the megaphone.

YOU KNOW WHAT ENGY, I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT DR. BENNIE MADE YOU SEE. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK HOW FUCKED UP YOUR LIFE HAS BEEN OR WHAT KIND OF SHIT YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH. ALL I KNOW IS THAT FOR ALL YOUR FAULTS YOU ARE NOT A PUSSY! CHRIST, I LITERALLY SAW YOU PULL OUT A MAN'S EYE AND SHIT IN THE SOCKET. YOU ARE A CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER! YOU CAN OVERCOME THIS. YOU CAN OVERCOME THIS AND BE A KING!

Yeah, but even if I'm a king my life is still a huge flamin' trainwreck! Nothin' will change that!

AND YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU'RE RIGHT. THE PAST CAN'T BE ALTERED. IT WILL ALWAYS BE A TRAINWRECK. HELL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE A TRAINWRECK. BUT YOU CAN EITHER BE A TRAINWRECK WHO CRASHES ALONE OR CRASHES WITH TONS OF SCREAMING PASSENGERS ABOARD. AND RIGHT NOW, THOSE SCREAMING PASSENGERS ARE TRAX, PANZER, AND FEDDER. AND **SQUONK**

The megaphone shorts out and she tosses it to the side. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts up to him.

And I got news for you. None of those guys deserve to be King of the Ring more than you! I mean, look at them! Trax is a D-list comic book super-villain, Panzer is a living, breathing Aristocrats joke minus the humor, and Fedder is an entitled pretty boy coasting on nepotism and legacy, who thus far can barely be arsed to even spare a word for his opponents. Whereas you have suffered through a lifetime of verbal, mental, and physical assaults, biting, clawing and scraping towards this very moment. This very DREAM!

You have earned this Engy! THIS IS YOURS! And as your manager....as your...

Madison stops a bit and swallows deep, mentally preparing herself for what is about to spill out of her mouth.

....as your FRIEND, Engy....I refuse to let you throw this away.

The shot returns to the roof. Engy is sitting on the ledge still. He wipes away a tear with the palm of his hand, and then he turns towards the camera.

Is she right? Is this mine? Can I be better than all this bad shit?

He looks way, way down below, considering his death.

Maybe she's right. Maybe I have earned this more than Panzer and Trax and Fedder. I mean, what do these other guys bring to the table that 'ol Engy don't? What right do they got to this that I don't?!

Okay, fine, maybe my life fuckin' sucks. But that's all the more edge I got over these other schmucks. Panzer's a supposed demi-God so his whole life's been easy street. Fedder got HANDED his fuckin' shot by Vinnie. And Trax, the only other guy who mighta had a tough life, is now a Marvel movie villain whose head is more up his own ass than in the game.

God damnit, I have NOT lived through bum fights, and starvation, and bein' homeless, and ritual cult abuse, and bein' a truck stop man whore just to get beat by these lowly FUCKS.

Engy shakes his head.

The truck stop man whore thing DID happen. But I didn't mean to say it. Shit.

He pounds his fist on the brick beside him.

FUCK IT. I'm stronger than this! I'm gonna win this shit! I'm gonna be KING OF THE FUCKIN' LOSERS BABY!

Engy shoots to his feet, pumping his fists triumphantly in the air.

YOU HEAR THAT WORLD?! KING OF THE FUCKIN' LOSERS BABAAAYYWHOAAAAAAAAAA

Engy starts to slip on the ledge, thrown off balance by his own celebration! The crowd down below gasps in horror and maybe a little bit of sexual arousal. Madison screeches! The cops avert their eyes. OH GOD HE'S GOING OVER!

Except he doesn't. At the last second, a hand catches his. Engy turns to see his savior, and a heavenly glow surrounds the beautiful woman who has quite literally saved his soul. He marvels at her, at her radiance. His mouth goes slack. And so taken is he that he doesn't even realize he's still dangerously close to doom.

Down below, the throngs wait with baited breath for a fatality that does not happen. Madison slowly pulls her hands from her mouth, as it dawns on her that Engy still hasn't fallen.

Wha....what happened? Is he ok?

Engy and this beautiful woman, hands still grasped against infinity, seem locked in time. Finally she squeezes Engy's hand, awakening him from the trance and prompting him to step down from the ledge. It takes him a bit to steel himself to speak with this angel. But finally, he does.

Who are you?

The woman smiles, and it's like the combined brilliance of a thousand suns.



My name is Tomi Lahren. I love you Engy. And I want to touch your penis for free.

Engy blinks stupidly, once, twice, three times.

Sweet.

[End!]