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SpineTwister · **12-18-2014, 02:04 PM**

London, England. SIMON LYSTER, "THE SPINE TWISTER's" dojo/gym/fetish dungeon, Room 101, Ministry of Discipline:

LYSTER addresses CAIN via webcam:

"Mister ARKHAM -- welcome to merry old England!

"I previously disparaged your powers as Hammer Horror parlor tricks. After viewing your video, I stand corrected:

"That's actually not half bad CGI. You should look up Michael Bay -- you have a rich future as an associate producer.

"Regrettably, the acting's about of the caliber of the little home movies I force my dungeon gimps to make and upload to my Ministry subscriber site for a few extra quid."

LYSTER idly thumbs a DVD labeled TWISTED SPINE PRODUCTIONS - ANAL FLOWERS AND GOLDEN SHOWERS HENTAI BBW FISTING KINK 7.

LYSTER looks around at Room 101, gestures.

"In other circumstances, I'd invite you down to the dungeon to give my film crews a few pointers. It's in the Whitechapel district. I'm sure a man of your background is familiar with that name.

"But I am fully committed to training and regrettably indisposed at present. As I mentioned, I don't take you lightly. As a man. As a 6'8", strong, athletic man.

"But that is all. Your video changes nothing.

"There is a material explanation for everything. You are no exception.

"There are no gods. No demons. No vampires or ghosts or boogeymen.

"You'd have me ask your laundry list of opponents if they acknowledge you as more than a man?"

LYSTER gestures toward one of the flat-screen monitors on the wall. On TV is vintage footage showing the liberation of the Nazi concentration camps.

"I'll turn on the History Channel instead. I'll look at the victims of the Einsatzkommandos. The Holodomor. The Khmer Rouge. ISIS. And it will confirm what I've always known:

"All the evil in the world is the product of men. Men like me.

"As for your semantical parsing of the differences between murderers and fighters and whatnot, well:

"You have your congregation and your home movies and your occult obsessions. I have my... social circles."

LYSTER gestures. Camera pans to latex-clad SUBMISSIVES ranging from model-caliber suicide-girl types to morbidly obese people in thongs and ball gags, midgets, hermaphrodites, and people in leg and back braces flopping on the ground like the vomit-eating dude in Audition.

"All well and good. Everyone needs their extracurriculars.

"But at the end of the day, after the jawing and the posturing and the narcissistic self-promotion, at Christmas Shove-It we will engage in a wrestling match.

"A match admittedly not geared to my style, not the format I would have chosen.

"But a wrestling match nonetheless.

"And out of the seven billion humans whose company you claim to have transcended, you face the world's best submission wrestler.

"Man or monster, I look forward to our meeting. The resolution of our philosophical impasse."

LYSTER extends arms, locks hands.

"Twelve." [cracks knuckles]

"Two." [cracks knuckles again]

"One." [cracks knuckles again]

The SUBMISSIVES start chanting in chorus, over and over: "Twelve... two... one.... twelve... two... one.... twelve... two... one...."

[fade to black]

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