(OOC- I was granted permission to use Michael McBrides person in this roleplay)

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WHAT'S THAT SMELL!


Snow is falling here on the mountain top in this small town. The temperature is around 2 degrees at dusk. The roads look like white ice caves as the van tries to make its way back to Morbid Angel’s house. Sliding from side to side the van skids into a ditch about a mile south of the old mansion. Either they have to walk or call for help…neither tickle their fancy. Morbid Angel would come to help them but at a cost that no one wants to pay…if they leave the van they’ll have to stay the night in the old mansion with the last person anyone would want to stay the night with. A quick decision with a regretting heart turns them to walk the last mile not knowing what will happen this night but knowing of nothing good.
Darkness is deep in the sky as the crew finally makes it to that damned mansion they use what energy they have left to hustle to the front door and bang on it…

*BANG, BANG, BANG*

No answer. No lights on….no sound!

Camera man –“This guy isn’t home! What are we going to do now? I am freezing!”

Steve Sayors walks up from the rear of the group and tries the front door seeing if it was unlocked…it was…and why wouldn’t it be unlocked? Why would one decide to break into Morbid Angel’s house? What would they gain? Information? Advantage? Or a lot of regret?
They rush into the warm dark house. Quickly greeted by the stench of something rotting! The overpowering aroma of what could only be the decomposing corpse’s of more than one body. The sounds of vomit hitting the floor are heard as someone finds the light switch and the foyer illuminates!
Dark oak floors and wood carved demon statues posted at the foot of the stairwell leading to Morbid Angel’s office and extra area, forward is the kitchen and sitting room, down is the basement where Morbid Angel had converted it to a morgue where he can embalm bodies and get them ready for their funerals. It is never known how many bodies are kept downstairs nor is it something most are eger to find out.
They walk forward towards the sitting room tuning on lights to make things less creepy. Paintings of the great house in its prime greet them in the sitting room as does a portrait of the Late Blood Countess Bathory sits over the elegant fireplace. The room was done with a dark stained wood with parquet floors and leather furniture. The sideboard table is covered with his World War II Nazi collection…including a lamp that had a placard hanging from it. Brief histories of the lamp as it were. The lamp shade was made from some thin white leather stretched. The plaq reads
“Owned and Designed by A Nazi officer. Hand crafted by Ilse Koch with Jewish flesh.”

If that wasn’t creepy enough next to it was a picture collage of the process…


Sound Guy-“so what do we do now?”

Soyers exhales sadly

Soyers-“We wait…that’s all we can do.”

The scene fades to black.


Meanwhile Miles away Morbid Angel’s 2014 Lincoln Navigator pulls into one of his many funeral parlors across the continental United States. Every Funeral Home that has the name “Halls of Eternity” belongs to Morbid Angel…and there are a good many of them around. Death is a business that never stops…people always die and others make a profit.
Morbid Angel can faintly be heard talking on his phone…half of which couldn’t be understood except when he started yelling wild accusations to whomever was on the other end…talking about them trying to fuck him and then accusing them of trying to jam things in his ass…finally claiming they the man was a Jew before hanging up.
Morbid exits the car and enters the building giving a slight look back and the camera slowly following him. Morbid enters his office next to the morgue and takes a seat.
The room was done up in an oddly professional manor keeping religion out of his businesses. Another portrait of the Blood Countess hangs over his head on the wall.

Morbid-“Where’s Soyers? I told him to meet me at the Funeral home…this is bullshit! You know everyone else gets real interviews and all I get is this fucking camera man….Sir you look like a terrorist with that beard! Mother fucker! I bet you Mr. Potato did this on purpose! I bet they don’t want me to talk to that Soyers cunt because I am not important enough! I AM IMPORTANT! More important than that fucking black asshole Ray Peterson! Or what was that other Jewish guy? Savior…LJ Savior some shit…HE IS A FUCKING JEW! JEW, JEW, JEW!”

Morbid stops and stands up removing his coat and hanging it on a rack by the door before continuing

Morbid-“Michael McBride is the next man on my docket I guess…Not really the match I was looking to have….I figured I would have multiple victims run down to the ring and get their ass’s kicked back to where they came from and then I would be up 5 wins in one night…but I guess that isn’t the case, I’m going to have to win one at a time. McBride I should let you know that pain and torture is what I do, your ex-wife has nothing in comparison to what I am capable. I love pain and I love to receive it. I won’t sit here and lie saying that you won’t be a problem. One doesn’t simply get a reputation for being a pussy like some believe…you seem like someone that may cause damage to others in your time. I might even get a bruise…I know you will hit me…shit will be tit for tat up until the end when I destroy you. I’ll send you wishing your ex-wife was farting on your face…that shit is just nasty…it takes a dysfunctional motherfucker to fart on another motherfuckers face like that. At this moment in time I have send a delivery to your personal address…something I feel is appropriate for someone of your…….heritage. I really hope you enjoy it”

The scene fades to black

It picks up again outside of a high-rise apartment door. A delivery man knocks and after a few moments the door whips open. It is Michael McBride! A cigarette hanging from his mouth and a confused look on his face.
The camera pan to show what the delivery man has…it is a bouquet of Potatoes on sticks with a card attached! McBride snatches the card and rips it open and reads.

“I figured since you are Irish and because of the great potato famine you could use these…considering I will send your ass back there.

p.s. I hate you

P.P.S. I REALLY FUCKING HATE YOU! “

McBride’s eyebrow rises before slapping the potatoes out of the man’s hand and to the ground

McBride-“I do believe Morbid Angel just went full . Fucking cunt!”

McBride slams the door and the camera fades out.

The scene picks up inside the Smelly house of Morbid Angel as the camera and sound crew sit with Soyers awaiting a break in the snow storm.
The old house makes noises of its own. The stench of death strong in the air and the constant reminder that they are alone in the house…or are they?

The scene fades to a Blood Red!