[PLAY]

Christopher: Is it on?

Dustin: Yeah, dude. The red light on the camera is glowing, so it's recording my face right now.

[Dustin is right in front of the camera, his face completely taking up all the space on the lens. His teeth are being showcased on the camera along with his small smile.]

Christopher: Well then get out of the way, brah! This shit ain't gonna start itself!

[Dustin gives the camera a quick face as if he's attending a hard rock concert before moving away from it. We are then able to see Christopher on the trampoline's center, eyes following Dustin as he makes his way to the trampoline. The weapons the two bought at Wal-Mart are sitting just beside the makeshift ring. It only takes a couple of seconds for Dustin to hop on the trampoline and start bouncing. Chris starts to bounce around with him as he rings an imaginary bell, signaling the start of the match.

Christopher: Ding, ding, motherfucker! You ready to start this shit or what?

[Dustin is heard chuckling.]

Dustin: You know I am, you sack of meat. You're gonna go down harder than I did on Megan Fox!

Christopher: You mean that cardboard cutout of her that you keep in the closet?

Dustin: Fuck you, Chris! She's real to me!

[And with that, they charge at each other with a flying tackle. Since they both performed the same move, they end up head butting each other, forcing both of them to land on the trampoline on their feet and take some steps back. They charge at each other again, only this time with a really sloppy looking collar and elbow tie up. Chris sets up for a suplex, but Dustin slips out of it and gives his buddy a good punch to the chin. Chris' head snaps back after receiving that hard ass blow and falls down on his back. Dustin, legitimately thinking that he accidentally knocked his buddy out, walks over to him in concern.

Dustin: Fuck dude, are you okay? I didn't mean to do th-

[Just as Dustin goes to check up on his friend, Chris cheap shots him with a slap to the face. While Dusty holds his jaw out of surprise and pain, Chris slides under his legs and pushes him into a large stack of chairs face first. Dustin can be heard groaning in pain after landing on those chairs. Chris, on the other hand, appears to have no remorse after doing what he just did. In fact, he has a wide smile on his face after dropping his friend into the chairs.

???: What the fuck was that noise!? Was that you, Chris!?

[Chris' smile drops as soon as he hears the strange woman's voice. He turns towards the source of the voice.]

Christopher: Everything's golden over here, mom! No need to yell like you heard a gunshot!

Mom: I know you're playing with those guns again, Chris! Come back inside and hand them back over to me right now!

[Not exactly happy about being told to go inside the house, he slowly gets off the trampoline and reaches for the camera.]

Christopher: I hope you haven't been drinking again, mom.

[STOP]

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[The camera is slowly moving across the hallway to Christopher's room. Dustin can be heard groaning from behind the camera. After landing on a large pile of chairs, no one can blame him.]

Dustin: Damn, dude, the chairs? I know you're taking this shit seriously and all but did you really have to shove me that hard?

[Slowly, he makes his way towards the man's room, possibly to berate him for doing something like that, even though he should've seen it coming. When he opens the door, he notices that he isn't there at all. Sure, his wrestling posters and various toys of said wrestlers are littered about the place, but he himself isn't there.]

Christopher: Mom, I wasn't playing with Dad's old guns in the backyard!

Mom: Don't give me that bullshit, Chris! I heard a loud bang just outside of this house!

[Dustin hears the argument coming from next door. The walls aren't all that thick, so we can hear what they're saying with surprisingly good clarity. He sets the camera on top of a dresser and leans into the wall to hear a little better than us.]

Christopher: Those were chairs, mom! I showed them to you when we came back from Wal-Mart, remember!?

Mom: Did you spend my money on ammo for those damn things!?

Christopher: For fuck's sake, mom, we told you we were heading to Wal-Mart for backyard wrestling equipment! You were more than happy to give me three hundred dollars in order to get it!

Mom: Where is this equipment now!? With the guns out in the backyard!?

Christopher: Shut the fuck up! There weren't guns out in the backyard! How many fucking times do I have to tell you that!?

Mom: Cut me some slack, son! I've been sleeping all day!

Christopher: No you weren't, mom! I can smell the alcohol in your breath! How did you find out where I hid it, anyways!?

Mom: I didn't. I bought more.

Christopher: You did what!?

Dustin: Son of a bitch.

Christopher: Mom, I've been trying my damn hardest to keep you away from liquor ever since dad died, and you go off and do something as stupid as that!? Well if you're going to try to pull off shit like that, then I can't help you anymore.

Mom: What are you saying, Chris?

Christopher: I'm saying that I'm done! I'm moving out of this house and leaving you to rot!

Mom: You're not going anywhere, you brat! You need me to survive!

[A slap can be heard from the other room. Dustin jumps a little when it hits. There is a brief pause, possibly for the person to recover from that harsh blow to the face.]

Christopher: If I was anyone other than your son, I would knock you out for doing that to me. Since I am your son, I'm going to tell you to remember the moment your baby boy was taking his first steps. This is going to be the last time you'll see your boy in this house. 'Cause he's walking away and never coming back.

[Footsteps can be heard leaving his mother's room. Dustin hurriedly picks up the camera and leaves Christopher's room. Chris' left cheek is glowing red as he walks away from the room, face showing clear signs of anger and frustration.]

Christopher: I'm going to live with you from now on, Dustin.

Dustin: Dude, this is so soon! What the hell made you decide that so fast?

Christopher: It sure as hell beats living with that fucking beast of a woman. Trust me.

[STOP]

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[REC]

Christopher: Anther day, another Warfare. Another Warfare, another sap to knock out for the three count. This time it's a man named Abbadon. This man brought his girlfriend, wife, dollar store tramp, whatever she is, along for the ride. Kinda sad that you had to bring her along for the ride, possibly by force, but I shouldn't judge you on that. Instead, I'll judge you based on how you didn't mention me at all while on your little rendezvous at the bar. What, were you too busy intimidating a bunch of drunken Spaniards to give a shit about me? Hell, at least I made some time for you, even after all I managed to splice in this argument between me and my mother.

Dustin: Maybe he's doing something unspeakable to that bartender he poisoned. You never know, Chris.

Cristopher: Shut up, Dusty, you card. The only thing that's even remotely creepy about him is that there's a girl that's willing to sit next to him at the bar. Everything else is pretty much clichéd as all hell. Wears all black at night? Been done before by the now dead Christopher Lee. He could do it better than this fucker in a gas mask could any day. This guy also drives a white panel van and places people in the backseat. Also not very original, since it's been done by every known pedophile, kidnapper, discreet murderer, and whoever else in the real world that drives a conspicuous white van for malicious purposes.

Dustin: Are you saying that all people that drive white vans are evil people, brah?

Christopher: I'm saying people that dress like a villain from Buffy the Vampire Slayer while driving a white van are trying way too hard to be creepy and evil.

Dustin: And to think that he's your opponent.

Christopher: Yeah, how do you think I feel? It's not fun trying to fight a man whose only fighting capabilities are poisoning people and looking like a reject from a late nineties Joss Whedon television show, ya feel?

[Dustin chuckles to himself.]

Christopher: Come on, brah. Show off your abilities instead of letting your bitch grope men. If not, I'll be more than happy to make sure you wear that gas mask of yours for a long while, and not just for the stupid stitchwork you put on it. See ya in the ring, Abby. Don't wear anything nice, or else it'll be destroyed by what I'll do to you.

[The camera cuts to black.]