AF 39: Dorian Slaughter vs. Veejay

[Richard Blonoff]

Deadline is Tuesday, September 30th, 11:59PM CST. Extensions available upon request.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

Deadline has been extended by 24 hours.

 

[Bagpipes]

The scene fades in from black, depicting Dorian Slaughter walking across the plateau of a large hill. It is dusk, a soft steady wind provides background noise. As Slaughter approaches the near side of the plateau, he stands on what appears to be a thick piece of tin protruding from the barren ground.

Slaughter: Welcome, to the land of desolation. What once were worldly treasures, now simply rot under this barren landscape of stench and despair.

The camera pans, revealing the scene to be an active landfill. Flocks of birds circle overhead and dot the landscape, scavenging for scraps of food through the scattered trash.

Slaughter: It is calming to spend one's free moments among the decrepit remains of human waste.

Slaughter steps down off of the rusted metal platform and begins to walk toward the exposed waste.

Slaughter: Shall we walk?

The camera, seemingly begrudgingly, follows Slaughter. He turns to the camera after walking a short distance and falls backward suddenly. His body thuds down onto a mattress inhabiting the trash. He grins.

Slaughter: Ah, treasures.

The camera zooms out, illuminating mounds of trash and ground cover material to either side of where Slaughter sits.

Slaughter: While men of power and fame long for materialistic supremacy, men of a different cloth exist solely to relish in the wasted treasures cast aside by their oppressors.

Herein lies true supremacy. Supremacy of mind, of spirit. A supremacy achieved through the rejection of prominence, notoriety, and exaltation.

Slaughter rolls onto his stomach, his chin resting on the palms of his hands, focused in on the camera

Slaughter: Come down into the darkness. Cast aside your worldly hallucinations of grit and fortitude. Release yourself.

Slaughter extends his arms to either side of his body, his face flush against the mattress. He pauses, after a short time he rolls over and stands up.

Slaughter: Shall we proceed?

Slaughter walks onward, trash crackling beneath his heavy boots, his pant legs dragging across the soggy ground.

Slaughter: Some men desire nothing less than the suffix "Ruler of the World" to follow each time their name rolls off the tongue of someone deemed unequal to their own prowess.

This is my world.

This disgusting scene of decaying waste brings a certain sense of tranquility upon me. I care not about power, fame, glory, championships... these things that men like Veejay strive for, sacrifice their very lives for, are utterly meaningless to a man like myself.

I am a villain. A villain not of the theatrical persona, but rather, a villain of spirit. My sole purpose in coming to the WZCW is to bring redemption to those oppressed by foolish, egotistical pride.

Death will come for you, Veejay, and when it does, oh the beauty. The beauty of that pile of hair gel and arrogance lying motionless on a blood-soaked canvas, shall truly be something to behold.

Slaughter pauses.

Slaughter: Come, follow me.

He begins to ascend a grassy slope, far removed from the littered grounds where he previously stood, approaching a tree line at the far end of the scene.

Slaughter: What do you know of monsters?

Slaughter stops, his eyes reddened from the howling wind. Peering into the camera, he speaks.

Slaughter: Monsters are not things that go bump in the night. Nor are they physically imposing humans capable of bearing the weight of mountains upon their backs.

Slaughter's tone becomes deep, focused.

Slaughter: Monsters are that which you cannot see. That which you sense but cannot place. That which is ever present. Monsters are that which dwell outside of you, omnipotent, omniscient, never leaving a single one of your thoughts uninfluenced.

He pauses, exhales, inhales slowly, then continues on.

Slaughter:Death is the only true monster. And death itself shall be unleashed upon all who neglect to welcome its serenity into their minds.

Slaughter begins to walk again, his paces becoming shorter as the hill becomes steeper.

Slaughter(in a whisper): Do not tremble. Veejay is not trembling.

Veejay is holed up with his tramps in his illustrious penthouse, taking shots of brandy out of goblets made of gold. Gold mined by the hands of the enslaved, fabricated by torches operated by hands of those working toward a meaningless paycheck so that men of power and arrogance can drink from the labors of their hands.

Slaughter points toward the landfill from where they came, the camera pans, showing the scene from afar.

Slaughter: And there... there is where it all ends.

It begins in your world, it ends in mine.

The fruits of your labor are cast aside and left to rot in the Earth.

Veejay, your lavish treasures, your beautiful women, your penthouse suite adorned with golden fixtures, you may have earned them, but they are not yours.

The only thing guaranteed in your life is death.

And when death beckons to you, all of your worldly possessions and your pillars of pride shall rot.

You will cast aside your symbols of success, glory, and honor, and you will send them to me. Send them here, to the wasteland, with the scum of the Earth...

Slaughter pauses, his voice becomes saddened.

Slaughter: To rot.

The camera shifts its focus back to Slaughter, as he turns his back and begins to walk toward the woods.

Slaughter: Death is approaching. You have heard its message.

Won't you choose to rest in death's serenity?

For when death becomes you...

Slaughter's figure disappears into the thick brush.

Slaughter(from afar): You become death.

The camera pauses on the woods for a brief moment, the howling wind and glow of the nighttime sky fill the scene before it fades slowly out.

 

[CyberPunk]

We are at the old mansion in the middle of Mumbai. The hall is well lit. It seems like this place belongs to a wealthy, wealthy person. And right in the middle of the hall is Veejay, sitting on his precious couch. Dilip (his manager and long time friend) walks in with bunch of papers in his hand.


Dilip: What are you doing?

Veejay (deep in his phone): Playing this stupid game.


D: What game?

V: Doesn’t matter. Why are you here?

D: The word’s out. Scores of fans and reporters are waiting for you outside. They want answers.

V (looking up): What answers? Apart from you, no one else knows. How did this get out?


D: You may not have told anyone but WZCW has recently announced your signing. People want to know about your move.

V: Oh lord! Now I have to explain my every move to them?

D: You’re a celebrity. You should’ve known. Anyway, what are you going to tell them?

V: I don’t know. But first, help me out. I am stuck here (points towards his phone).

D: What the hell? You’re playing candy crush? Are you kidding me!?

V: Hey! The title’s misleading. I thought there’s some girl Candy who I get to crush. After so many levels, I still haven’t found any girl. But the game’s kinda addictive.

D (pushing the phone away): When did you start playing such games on your phone?


V: Doesn’t matter. Anyway, I also wanted to help me out with this. (Shows him his email.) My first opponent in WZCW: Dorian Slaughter. Scout him out.


D: Already did. He’s some factory worker who’s obsessed with death. Big scary looking monster. But nothing you can’t handle. He’s coming off a defeat against some old washed up has-been anyway. You should be fine.

V: Of course I’d be. I am a born winner! I always win! But my concerns lie elsewhere.


D: I’ll get to that in a minute. Your first priority, however, should be to go out there and address this crowd. They want an answer, give them one.


V: Alright, alright! I’ll go.


Veejay slowly gets up, grabs his suit and walks towards the door. He seems a bit unsure about what to say. Dilip hands him a paper. He skims through it, put it in his pocket and walks out the door. Outside, the driveway is full of reporters and people. He pauses a moment and then starts walking as reporters swarm him.

Reporter1: Veejay, Veejay, we have so many questions!


V: I am not taking any questions. I am here to address you all. So please, everybody, be calm and settle down.


Veejay clears his throat and takes out the paper. The reporters forward their microphone as he anxiously looks down the paper. Every camera is pointed towards him. He reads it and then puts it back in his pocket. He has a look of determination in his eyes.



V (looking right into the cameras): Today, I stand before you not to give an explanation, but to ask for your support. Soon, I’ll enter the next phase of my life. As you already know, I’ve signed up with WZCW and soon I’ll be leaving to participate in their events. Yes, I know that this may come as a shock to you, but remember that end of something great can be beginning of something greater. You people have showered me with your love, affection and loyalty over the years. I just want you people to continue believing in me in the same way. You have made me your hero; it’s my job to take it to another level. WZCW is one of the most respected e-feds out there and I want to make a mark, not for myself, but for you people. I want you people to have the same faith as you’ve always had in me. I want you to create a path for me on which I can walk with assurance and confidence. Leaving is not easy. But you should know that I am not leaving you, I am just leaving this land. You have given me place in your heart, and I’ll never leave that behind. And I promise, when I return, I’ll be, no, we’ll be the WZCW World Heavyweight CHAMPION.

Loud applause and ‘Veejay’ chants fill the air. Everyone’s clapping. There’s lot of unintelligible conversation within the crowd. As Veejay turns around to go back to his mansion, he’s interrupted by a reporter. “But aren’t you afraid that someone will take your number one position here in Bollywood?” Veejay looks at him and has a loud laugh. “I ain’t getting replaced. Whoever takes that seat is just going to keep it warm for me while I go ahead, explore and conquer bigger things.” He then walks in the mansion as people continue chanting and applauding. Dilip follows him in.


D: What a speech, man! You just handled the whole situation with so much grace.

V: That’s what I do. But I have to hand it to you. Only you can come up with this kind of crap.

D: Learned from the best. Anyway, what concerns do you have? You’ve beaten much bigger, way tougher opponents. You’re a legit fighter. So what are you worried about?

Both of them sit down. Veejay uncorks a bottle of champagne and pours it into two glasses. He hands one to Dilip.


V (taking a sip): I am not worried about this Slaughter guy. I was looking forward to a grand entry. I was looking forward to a match with may be a champion for a championship. Instead, I get a lunatic psychopath who has no credentials whatsoever. It’s like I have to start from the bottom.

D: So what? It’s a new place. You have to start from scratch. You just have to show them how good you are. Remember your first movie? You played a deranged monster. You had your reservation then as well but look where that role has gotten you. And I am happy that at last you are moving away from that filthy gymnasium. Blowing money away, luring people in just so that you get someone to beat up… that’s sick man.

V: Yeah, probably you’re right. Well, anyway, I’ll put this death monger in his place. He loves death- I am going to give him a near death experience. As someone once said, you don’t fear death, you fear the idea of it. Hahahaha…

D: Who said that?

V: That’s not important. Anyway, come along with me. It’s going to be fun!

D: I am not su…

V: You know I am not going to take no for an answer. Okay… I’ll run some errands before we take tomorrow’s flight. Hope that doesn’t crash and burn. (Looks upwards) Germany! Here I come!