what is this madness

Static fades into a shot opening on a grainy piece of video footage from an old news program, seated in a pale blue and gray prison cell, surrounded by heavy steel bars, are the somewhat rumpled-looking Tom Savage, and none other than the man who has been claimed to be the 'Anti-Christ' Andrew Savage.

Tom: Do you feel those things that you just mentioned hurt you at all?

Andrew: Um, physically, or spiritually?

Tom: Mentally.

Andrew: And then on what level? On the level of society? On the way you view the room?

Tom: No, no, no, no, no...

Tom Savage is getting visibly annoyed by this point in the interview.

Tom: Stop the hogwash. Do you feel that the drugs you did use in your earlier lifetime confused you? Altered your mind? Uh...Juggled, scrambled...made you see things differently? Uh..stay on that level if you can..

Andrew Savage shifts uncomfortably in his seat, but the grin on his face scarcely leaves. His beard is shaggy, unkempt, and his eyes are wild and hair out of control.

Andrew: Maybe I find a uh..spirit of uh...cave-man-think-through-brain?

Tom: Let me try it again.

Andrew laughs, a cackling sound of genuine happiness. Is it because he's confounding someone seeking the truth? Or is he telling a truth that the sane can't understand? Something about his eyes...It arrests you for a moment, then the next thing you know...static fills the shot, blasting across the screen, and the shot is roaring with static, then...the static bows out with a strange purple signature, like someone holding a magnet too close to the televsion...the static bleeds away, and there, standing in a dimly lit hallway...walls painted the faded lime of therapy, the eggshell color of healing...is Syco. He stands in the center of the hallway, and walks over to one of the doors near the end of the room, slowly, and slides the window open with the frictive metal-on-metal sound grating overloud in the moonlit hospital.

Syco: shhhh....don't say anything. Each night I come by, and I check this little box...the one next to therapeutic drug administered..and draw in the word 'Thorazine'. Because...I know that putting Morphine in a cage...the real you is only part of it. You get ready by being in that cage, the switch gets turned off, and Morphine prepares...on one level...

Morphine or whoever is behind the door, we don't get to see...groans audibly in response, unintelligibly.

Syco: But now, I've found that superego way to pipe Morphine down...to take him to the level he needs to be for my plan to work...entertaining, you took your beating like a man. You were crushed and beaten, pathetic meat. But that's okay, it's all a part of the lessons you need to learn. Drugging you...keeping you in this form longer and longer....suppressing your natural talents...It's bringing Morphine to a place beyond wrestler or fighter even...I'm infecting him with the sickness. You're going away for a while.

Syco laughs a little, and snaps the metal window closed. The static blasts quickly and then shows the interview with Andrew again. Andrew is shucking and jiving in his chair, itching at his arm, but still grinning at the long-suffering Tom...

Tom: Well how many children do you have?

Andrew: How many children do I have? Uh, I don't know, I've got lots of children man...Uh, in fact sometimes I think that you're a child.

Tom: But you just said you don't have any children, you don't have any family in the context of the Ranch...I'm talking about children that are your...Uh...natural children.

Andrew: How many are my natural ego?

Tom looks confused, perplexed, annoyed. He shakes his head and sighs.

Tom: No, children.

Andrew: Oh children? I would divide one child from another?

Tom: Alright, somewhere, out there, there's at least one son we know of that's your child who's probably 25 or 26 years old right now...

Andrew: Is that right?

Tom: Yeah. Look into that camera. What do you say to that kid? What do you say to your son out there, who's watching his old man on television? Maybe the first time he's ever seen his father...with his face carved up and his eyes glowering...You talk to that kid...what are you going to say to him?

Andrew: You gotta catch it on your own, boy. The train's hard. The road's rough.

Tom gives it a beat, the tape warbles for a moment as he answers.

Tom: And that's it?

Andrew: That's all I knew. That's all anyone ever told me.

Tom: Alright.

Andrew: And...you wanna hear something?

No light in the eyes. No light. You see the humanity fall away, and there on Andrew's face is just the sickness, the 'Other' the alien among us.

Andrew: He'll do it better than me. (chuckles)

Tom: Do what?

Andrew: Whatever he does (chuckles)...he'll do it a little better. Kid's do don't they?

The shot blasts static quickly, then blips out to blackness. But it leaves you with the question...doesn't it?

---------------------the match---------------------

Tyson Rowle Really I get Tyson Rowle didn't I Murder him and two other guys a few weeks ago and now he thinks he can step toe to toe with me do they ever learn I guess not I guess I get to show them all one more time why they don't fuck with an Angel and Rick don't think I have forgotten about you there will be a time and a place when judgement will come from the Syco of the IWF.

Megan O'Day I had a great night with you last night hopefully we can do this again.

oh yeah one more thing Tyson Rowle Welcome to Hell.