Charlie lurched alongside the stone fence, escaping the bustling city street as he slithered into the shadowy walkway. He is dressed in black combat boots, brown slacks, and a long black coat. He wears a tan bowling hat and carries in his left hand an old school briefcase. His right palm is sliding across of the stone fence as he walks towards the camera.

"I had a dog once, when I was growing up. He was there for the first ten years of my life. We'd go hunting and boy oh boy he would maul those birds, yes he would. Rip em' right to shreds. He was a great dog. But one day, he just seemed different."

Charlie brings his palm off of the stone fence as he comes to a stop in front of the camera.

"He wouldn't chew his bones. He wouldn't fetch the ball. He wouldn't hop in the truck and go for a ride. He would just lay there in the corner. It would have been sad if it wasn't so pathetic. To see a beast so great, so strong, so ferocious...fade away in front of your eyes. Lose himself in the pain. Let himself waste away into nothingness. It was pathetic. On that final day, he was a disgrace to the dog he used to be.

So I did what my mom and dad were unwilling to do. Too cowardly to do.

I took Buster out back. He didn't want to come, he could barely walk. I had to drag that sorry bastard out there by his collar while his limp legs carried along the torn up carpet. He was yipping and moaning the whole damn time. But once I got him out there, he shut up. I think he knew what was coming for him. I think he knew he shouldn't struggle, that I was doing him a favor.

So young lil' Charlie walked over to a big pile of rocks we had in the backyard. Dad always said he was going to make a shed and a garden one day. He never did."

Charlie looks down at the stone fence, running his fingers along a large stone block.

"The rock looked a bit like this."

Charlie brought his right hand into his coat pocket as he turned to the camera once more. A sinister smirk was spread across the madman's face.

"I walked over to Buster, rock in hand. He lay there looking up at me. I will never forget that look in his eyes. The futile gaze of an old geezer long past his prime."

Charlie chuckled as he shook his head from side to side.

"I brought that rock down on Buster's skull once, twice, THREE TIMES until all that was left of his longing gaze was a smashed eye covered in bits of blood and skull. The one two three. That pathetic whelp didn't deserve pity. He deserved to be put out of his suffering."

Charlie cocks his head to the side as the camera zooms in on his upper body.

"I don't feel shame. I don't feel guilt. I know what I did was right.

And I'm going to do it all over again come Halloween Night.

You see Sebastian, when I look at you, I see that same distant stare. That same longing for the good ol' days. You have the same eyes as Buster, looking to the past as you wither away into a shell of yourself.

It would be sad if it wasn't so pathetic.

Former universal champion. Former main event star. Critically acclaimed. Legendary. Legen...dairy.

And boy, you've sure aged like a glass of milk. You're not the same man you once were. You can't go blow for blow like you used to. You can't stand toe to toe with the big cats. Not anymore. And, to top it off, you smell like shit. Maybe you oughta ask Thaddy to change your depends.

You don't have that drive anymore. You don't have the iron will that it takes to dominant between those ropes. Your bones ache and your heart trembles every time you step into that ring. You have become a shell of the man you once were. A mere puppet. A child's toy. You've become nothing but a prop who follows your son around like a battered hound. Tail between your legs, eyes down, just following orders. You're not going downhill: you've reached the floor of the valley and your legs are too weak to carry you back to the pinnacle. Your days of glory are loooong gone.

But I'm on the way up, old man! And you're going down, down down. No ifs ands or buts about it. But don't you worry bucko, I'm an honest man. A decent man. A good, a family man!

But above all, I'm a merciful man. A man of Christ.

So when you're laying there, splayed out on the ground after a Steubenville Screwdriver, feeling nothing but pain and knowing nothing but fear...I'll spare you. I'll spare you the embarrassment. I'll spare you the misery. I'll spare you the fear of being buried.

You see Seb, before I bury you, I'm going to show you the ultimate kindness. When I lift that shovel up off the ground, I'm going to hold it high. Hold it high and with pride. I'll be looking down at you, seeing that old familiar stare....the gaze of the geezer. But I won't see it for long. In only a matter of seconds I'm going to bring that shovel down on your throat. I'm gonna jam it in there, placing my feet on the shovel and digging. Digging into your bone marrow, your jugular, your flesh....digging clean through. Only then will you know peace old man.

I'll be seeing you soon, Sebastian.

Charlie walks past the camera with a neutral expression cast over his shaded face. His heavy footsteps echoed through the crispy autumn air as the scene faded to black.