A person is standing in a mask, track suit, and black gloves. (S)He is completely covered from head to toe, no skin is showing. The room in which they stand is shadowy and a slight haze of smoke comes seeping in from the nearby door. Screams emanate from the room attached. A person walks into the room and looks at the masked figure.

Sir, or Madam, we've got Francis hanging up.

Did you wreck him? Is he done?

The voice is ambiguous.

Yes.

Bodied, .

The person, who is also wearing a mask, this mask is however a Charlie Sheen mask, slightly chuckles.

I was a fan of the murkt movement.

Shut up, . Allow me to go speak with our guest.

Both masked (wo)Men walk into the smoke filled room. As Charlie opens it, the smoke pours out and fills the room where the masked person, whose mask is simple and plain black, was previously standing. The sound of screams from Francis permeate through the masks, and into the ear canals of our mystery heroes(?). The plain black masked one lets out a slight chuckle and moves towards the source of the noise. They're greeted with the sight of a man hanging from the rafters, suspended by his arms, with chains attaching his feet to the ground. The man is naked, and in very good shape. There are a group of masked people standing around, each holding a different item of torture. One man, who is wearing a Jared Leto joker mask is standing there holding a dildo on a reciprocating saw. He chuckles, and moves towards the dangling man's backside.

This won't hurt for long, Francis.

Francis tries to squirm away, but to no avail.

Stop it, fuccboi. I need to speak to Francis first, and then you may sodomise him. Back away.

Everyone does as the plain masked person requests and backs away. The masked person walks forward, and rubs their hands on Francis's chest, and pinches his nipples a little.

Who...Who...Are...You...?

Francis, you fuccboi. You know me. You know I'm your friend, and you know why you're here.

All colour drains from Francis's face as he realises who it is he's looking at.

You...They said you were dead?

fCENSORED you for believing that. You should have known better. I never die. I just regenerate into a new body. Here I stand, in my new body. Ready to show you, and only you.

The masked person moves very close to Francis, so Francis can look down on them. They look up at him, and with a sadistic wink, and sinister chuckle they remove their mask. The camera can't see it, but Francis can. Francis recoils in horror and vomits at the sight.


Jesus. You're still ugly.


fCENSORED you're going to pay for that comment. . I'm taking your dick.

The mask is back lowered, and Francis is flailing trying to get free, and screaming. A gloved hand reaches up and grabs Francis's fat and long dick, it begins to stroke the dick faster and faster until Francis is fully erect. A large knife is brought up and pressed against the flesh of Francis's manhood. With a quick flick, the manhood comes undone from Francis's body. He starts to scream and cry as blood drips from his nethers.

Dear God, Are you there? It's me, Margaret. Read it, fuccboi.

Please, just tell me why I'm here. Please.

Francis manages to get out a plea as the masked person begins to poke a hole for a chain through the detached manhood. They stop, and cock their head in curiosity.

Oh, Francis. Don't you know? You cheated on me. Oh, yes you did. Don't deny it, lad. I was off, assumed to be dead, but you knew better. And what do you do while I died? You went and struck a deal with the EMF, the Extreme Measures Federation, to compete? Come on, Francis. You know that's cheating on me. And I do not like a cheater. Not at monopoly, not at Jenga, and especially not when it involves my fCENSOREDing money. So, Francis, I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to hurt you, a whole lot.

Our masked entertainer finishes putting the cock on a chain, and places it around their neck. A slight moan escapes from Francis as his torso tries to sag, but the pressure on his arms won't let him.

Oh, gender neutral squad of hired goons! Please come in and help poor Francis play. He just told me he would like to try that dildo you showed him earlier. I have other business to attend to. I can't allow myself to dawdle around as you play with dear of Frankie.

The masked hero walks off whistling, with the cocklace swinging around their neck.

Hey, Boss. Before you go. Got a question.

The masked one turns and faces the questioning goon, who is wearing a Barrack Obama mask, and holding a blow torch.

Yes, Nameless Goon number Five?

What do you want us to call you? We're all masked, and unnamed. I don't even know what gender you are.

A few steps towards number five.

Good question, Five. What's your name?

Carl.

Masked Entertainer is standing right next to Carl, with their mask right against the ear of Carl's mask.

Well, Carl. You won't be calling me anything. Everyone else call me, Boss.

Carl seems confused, he goes to lift his mask off, but Boss stops him.

No, shhhh. Carl, please keep the mask on.

Why won't be calling you anything? Am I fired?

Fired? No. Promoted. You're going to be named Goon number 1. Follow me, Carl.

Boss takes steps away, and before Carl can take a step towards him, Boss pulls out a revolver and aims it at Carl. Carl stops moving, and raises his hands. Boss pulls the trigger, and a loud bang is heard. Nothing happens, except a flag that says Bang pops out. Everyone around laughs as Carl pisses himself. He starts to laugh a little at this, until Boss pulls the trigger again. This time the flag ejects from the barrel, and pierces Carl's skull. His body collapses.

Someone clean this up. I don't want to slip in Carl. I'm going to my office.

Boss drops the gun, and walks away. They arrive in an office complete with a black leather chair, and a nice mahogany desk. There are shelves filled with richly leather bound books behind them. They take a seat in the chair, and prop their feet on the desk. They press a button on the desk, and a goon in a Donald Trump mask comes running in holding a camera. They point their finger at the Boss, and they start to speak.


Robbie mother fucking Bourbon. How's it going, ? Did you miss me? Of course not, you don't even know who I am. Of course you want to assume it's Vanessa Gibson, that makes it easy for you. But hoo doggy are you wrong. This game isn't going to be easy for you. This game is going to be fun for me, though. I hold all of the cards, and man are they pretty ones. Look at them.

Boss holds up a deck of naked lady cards and then laughs. They throw the cards across the room and laugh hard.

Man, Robbie you probably thought I was going to hold onto that deck of cards until the match. But, wow. That didn't go the way you thought it would. Did it? Heh, nope. You don't even know what gender I am, or what my pronouns are. Are you furiously going through notes you may have to try and figure out who I am? It's ok, Bourbon. I know all about you. See you soon, sweetie.

The camera Trump puts their camera down. Boss looks up at them.

fCENSORED Was that good? I felt like it wasn't.

It was fine, boss.

Was he bodied?

No, Shrekt, though.

Oh, okay. That's fine I guess.