ENGY RECAP.... Engy is building something....strange....in Madison's backyard that has something to do with his long standing participation in the cult of Aiwass. Now, strange goings-on are occurring in Madison's home and she's had enough. And one of those strange goings-on is that the ghost of Engy's frenemy Jim Caedus is starting to become visible to people other than him!

We cold open on Madison Dyson, sitting on her bed. But, this isn't some leisurely downtime. Madison is pressed against the headboard of her bed. Her face is pinched by extreme nervousness, and her knees are pulled up to her chest like shes trying to fold herself into a defensive cocoon. Splayed out in front of her are a number of firearms. Also, the more intuitive viewers amongst you might pick up on the fact that Madison seems to be visually tracking something as she holds her cell phone up to her ear.

On the other end of the phone is The Engineer's son Joachim Bright, who historically speaking has certainly never been a fan of Madison. But, despite this, his words drip with concern. Look Madison, we both know The Engineer is up to something bad. Really bad. And if you were smart about this you'd take this seriously.

Madison nods her head numbly. I'm prepared to take this seriously.

I...oh. I...uh, I wasn't expecting you to agree with me like that. Wait, do you know something? Have you seen something?

That numb fearful expression still hasn't left her. Yeah....yeah.....you could say that.....

Okay, well do you want to share with the class?

Madison swallows deep, and her expression turns to one of bewilderment because even she can't believe she's about to speak these next words. Yeah, sure Jo. Because right now, Jim Caedus is sitting at the end of my bed looking at my most recent issue of Cosmopolitan.

The camera pans across the bed to reveal that this is indeed factual. Jim Caedus trains his one remaining eye on an article about “Top 12 Sex Positions to Drive Your Man Wild.”

A long protracted silence transpires on the phone. Finally, Joachim speaks. That's not funny.

Madison scoffs. I'm not joking. At this very moment that dead motherfucker is getting his burnt ashy skin flakes all over my comforter. And that's just the most recent thing to happen. Weird shit is going down here, Jo.

Joachim sighs audibly over the phone. Jim looks up at Madison. He doesn't believe you, does he?

Could you, like, say something to him over the phone?

Madison, call me when you're ready to take this seriously.

Wait, no, no, NO! Don't hang up!

**Click**

DAMN IT! Madison chucks the phone across the room.

You know, this is such fucking garbage. None of these sexual positions are even remotely feasible. Cosmo must have taught Bearded War Pig how to fuck. He tosses the magazine over his shoulder.

So is this the part where you tempt me with the Lament Configuration?

Jim laughs, and a couple of his teeth fall out and clatter to the floor. He doesn't even notice. No, but that's a good one!

Madison pulls her legs in even closer, trying to increase the distance between her and this otherworldy thing as much as possible. I can't believe this. The whole time I thought Engy was just playing more of his weird mind games when he prattled on and on about you. But Jesus Christ you're real, and you're sitting right there and....and....oh my God my house is gonna get sucked into the Hell Mouth isn't it? She looks up at the ceiling, as though some sort of answer to this insanity will drop down from on high. Why the fuck are you even revealing yourself to me now?

Jim shrugs, and the exposed shoulder on his burnt arm pops grotesquely. Funny story actually, you weren't supposed to see me. Totally an accident. My bad.

What? You were sitting in the living room watching a Golden Girls rerun! I mean....what the fuck/

Didn't think you were home, sorry!

So what now? Do you have to kill me? Drag my soul to hell?

Oh heavens no! You're not due for another 11 years.

What?

Nevermind. But yeah, nothing so melodramatic as all that. I mean, sure, you seeing me wasn't part of the plan. But on a positive note now you're a part of this! And you know it's real!

Madison suddenly looks frantic. Yeah, fucking AWESOME! Because I definitely woke up this morning thinking I wanted to help Engy bring about the end of days. Side bar, is he bringing about the end of days?

The house groans menacingly. Madison tenses up and starts looking around. What the hell was that?!

Jim gets up, causing all his exposed joints to pop once again. Ehhh, don't worry about that. Hey, I got some stuff to do. Can we pick this chat up after dinner?

Madison glares at him disbelievingly. NO! PLEASE FUCK OFF BACK TO HELL!

Jim winks his remaining eye, which given that it's his only remaining eye it just makes the gesture all that much more unsettling. It's a date then Maddy!

Jim vanishes in a puff of smoke as Madison stares at the spot he used to occupy for a good long time before sweeping up one of the guns off the bed and launching herself at the bedroom door. She goes through it, and races down the stairs, turning off the safety on the firearm as she rounds he corner through the living room. Just as she enters, the massive flat screen TV on the wall springs to life. She turns to face it as a demonic visage appears in the static. OH FUCK YOU! Leveling the gun at the TV, she fires, shattering the screen and destroying the image. The house gives another ominous groan in response and Madison flips off, well, the air as she retrains her sights on the back door. Heading out through it and to the backyard, we see a team of contractors hard at work on the recess that was already dug out. A crane lowers a black steel beam into a lattice work of already placed beams. Madison, spewing random profanities as she approaches, walks right up to the foreman and levels the gun at him. I....am.....DONE!

Whoa, hold on a second ma'am! The foreman puts his arms in the air.

No, you hold on a fucking second! I have had it with this bullshit! This project ends now! I want all this cult shit to stop, I want my house back, I want whatever the fuck this is out of my back yard and I want....

One of the cultists of Aiwass creeps up behind Madison and slips a rag over her mouth. Madison drops the gun and slumps into his arms. The foreman shrugs nonchalantly and signals for his team to get back to work as Madison's unconscious form is dragged away.

Elsewhere....

She did WHAT? Engy spits into his phone, before dropping a sigh and bringing a hand up to massage his forehead. Yeah, yeah alright. Just uh, make sure she doesn't choke on her own vomit. Engy shakes his head. Actually, on second thought, let her choke on it for a little bit. Just long enough to put the fear in her, and then help her. He listens in as the cultist on the other end says something else. A smile creeps up onto his lips. AND she pissed herself?! Classic. Take lotsa pics. Bye!

Engy punches the hang up button on his phone and turns to the camera. The shot pans back to reveal that he's standing in a cemetery. Don't look now, but there's a creeeeeepy graveyard promo incoming! A historical tour passes by in the distance as people take pictures. I always fucking hated those promo's, ya know? It was always some mook trying to do some ham fisted “I'll never let you down!” shit over somebody's gravestone or some goth wannabe autist trying to look legit. Both failed immensely. Which is why I'm throwing ya'all a curve. You see, today we're at MY grave site.

The shot pans down to reveal a headstone which reads “Dexter Bright”. The “Born” and “Died” dates are both blank. Yeah, so it turns out while I was having that fun buying a casket before my match with Drez, I actually for really real decided that planning for my future death wouldn't be a bad idea. You see, I am a realistic man, as you all know. And the reality of my situation is that I stand a 0.00 percent chance of living to a ripe old age. Now, don't! Don't start trying to tearfully convince me otherwise! We all know it's true.

But aside from the practical reasons for pre-planning my shuffle off this mortal coil, there's a more symbolic reason I wanted to have this. Namely, that it's humbling. Nothing brings you down to Earth faster that the tacit understanding that one's time on this Earth is finite. No matter how good you are. No matter how much you've amassed. The scythe always drops eventually. And this knowledge? It motivates me in a couple ways. Number one, it motivates me to stay real and not get so hung up on my own greatness that I lose sight of my limitations and begin to think of myself as unstoppable. That way lies Chaos. Heh. He shoots the camera a pointed, cheeky, glance. The second way it motivates me is that it serves as a constant reminder of just how precious one's time is.

Engy spies an adjacent gravestone and the beautiful bouquet of flowers on it. He checks to make sure nobody's looking before swiping them up and planting them in front of his own headstone.

So you see Pestalance, I'm not like these other guys who get lost so far up their own assholes Elon Musk offers to build a submarine to help them escape. I AM a realist. So when I blatantly look past you, that's not a weakness on my part. That's not my ego taking the wheel. It is a brutally honest assessment of just how little a threat you really are.

You say you were shocked at my treatment of you? I'm sorry cupcake, did you not catch my material before my match with Finn Kuhn? Awwww...and I here I thought you were a fan! Well let me get you up to speed then. I did the same shit to him. In fact, I blatantly called out James Raven in a promo that was supposed to be about Finn because I knew just how that shit was gonna go down and I was hoping to have actual competition lined up after that. And ya know what?

That shit went down EXACTLY the way I said it would. Well, the Finn losing part did. James Raven bitched out.

And, incidentally, that whole drama with Madison coming into the ring with that “will she or won't she” chair shot climax? I didn't NEED her help. We devised that bit of theater before hand to turn the screws on Finn and make his humiliation just that much more complete. Our match won't have those hijinks. Pinky swear.

And yeah, I would LOVE to say that what I did was some complicated mind game aiming at nailing you right in the sore spot that is your developing inferiority complex. But it wasn't! He laughs and claps his hands together. Goddamn, I got this roster so fucking SHOOK that they jump at ghosts and assume I'm gaslighting even when all I'm doing is tellin' the damn truth! It's GLORIOUS!

Truth, Pesty. And nothing but. Remember when I mentioned before about how precious time is? That was a fact that I understood even when I was a shit flinging gibbon. Which is why I didn't waste it. Look at your accomplishments in the time you've been here compared to mine in the same span. You can't touch me, Pesty. People been pulling their puds about how you're the next big thing when you got fuck all to show for the time you've been here so far. You won Second Chance? Eat ass. All you did was outlast a veritable smorgasbord of enhancement talent and Scully, or as I like to call him, Grade-A Enhancement Talent. All capitals. You're welcome Skull. Other than that, bupkis. Every time a title opportunity has come your way, you fucked up. Against Robert Main, for clarification. And for some reason you want to brag about beating him down as though that's somehow impressive. But, no....no you misspelled chode, because what would have actually been impressive was if you had beaten him. Now, that would have been something to hang your hat on. But you didn't. You couldn't. So you tried to build hype off the man's back by attacking him instead. Which any asshole with enough anger and an eye for throwing a sucker punch can do.

So what am I left with? Another middling challenger whose claim to fame is assaulting but not defeating a man who is ten times the opponent he could ever be. A middling challenge that lands the same night where some truly top tier talent (and Petey, Finn, and Chris) are going to fight over the cheat code that ends my title reign. UP, UP, DOWN, DOWN, LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT, B, A, FUCK EVERYTHING ENGY'S WORKED FOR. And you're dumb enough to wonder why I'm looking past you? Engy scoffs and runs a hand down his face.

Engy sits down atop his head stone now, giving the legs a good stretch. Refute this Pest. You can try. But just like everyone else who runs from me because “Engy's promos are too good”, you too will run into the break wall that is abso-fucking-lute reality. I win the psychological war before each of my matches because all I do is tell the truth. And the truth is that I'm eating this place alive. And that it's getting BORING. And that I have to wade through a morass of scrubs like you before my dick can get hard again.

Now if you'll excuse me I have a title to defend against staggering odds (not you) and some literal hell to raise. Holla at 'cha later, cannon fodder.

Engy hops down off the stone and walks deeper into the cemetery as we fade to...



Et venit stella tenebris