Saboteur is frantically rifling through bookshelves and desks in the library of Saboteur Tower. He tosses book after book over his shoulder, desperate to find what hes looking for.
Big Dave: What are you looking for?
Big Daveformer GM of Meltdown, former WZCW World Heavyweight Champion, and forever WZCW legendjoins Saboteur in the library, bewildered by the masked mans hunt.
Saboteur: Something important! And I still dont understand why youre here.
Big Dave: Im mostly here for you, Saboteur. Bateman is ruthless and will stop at nothing to see you carried out of the ring in a stretcher. Im there to make sure the only person you have to worry about is Vega. Though I have to admit, getting the chance to put my hands on Bateman sweetens the deal.
Saboteur: Well that explains one mystery.
Big Dave: Whats the other?
Saboteur: There are two. The first: where is the book Im looking for? The second: Why do they call you Big Dave? You dont look so big.
Big Dave: Im bigger than you!
Saboteur: I guess
but you dont look that big. It doesnt matter. What matters is
a-ha! Found it!
Saboteur pushes a pile of books off of a nearby desk and slams a thick tome onto the surface.
Big Dave: What is that?
Saboteur: This is how Im going to beat Vega.
Big Dave: By bludgeoning him over the head with a ridiculously thick book?
Saboteur: This is my biggest match in months: Im not just fighting for titles or pride; Im fighting for the fate of WZCW. If Vega and Bateman are allowed to succeed, there is no telling what reign of terror they will drag WZCW into. Thats why I need to go nuclear. Thats why I need to tell a story that everyone has been waiting for. Thats why its time for... my origin story.
SABOTEUR VOL. 13 EP. 4: Origin Story
The scene opens on a small child, no more than six years old, sitting about five feet away from a glowing television screen. It is impossible to make out any of the childs features as the glow of the TV casts a shadow around the boys figure. The Cosby Show is on. The boy is laughing.
A door opens, and the boy turns around, revealing that he is wearing a mask that closely resembles Saboteurs mask.
Lil Saboteur: Hello?
A pair of police officers walk through the door, but their faces cannot be seen, only their uniforms.
Police Officer: Excuse me son, are you the child of Mr. and Mrs. Saboteur?
Lil Saboteur nods hesitantly.
Police Officer: Your parents are dead. Freak car/plane accident. Youre going to the orphanage.
Saboteur: It turned out that my father, who was a retired fighter pilot that got a job working as the pilot for a small shipping company, crashed his plane into my mothers car when she was on her way home from the bar... exams. She was going to be a lawyer.
A white van comes to a screeching halt outside of a dreary gray building with a thick, black iron fence surrounding it. The side door slides open and a young Saboteur is tossed out of it along with a few suitcases. The van shoots away before Saboteur can even hit the pavement.
The young Saboteur picks himself up and dusts himself off before viewing the sign.
Saboteur: Vlad the Impaler School for Bastards. Hmm, sounds homey!
Little Saboteur pushes through the iron gates and walks into the building that will serve as his home for the next ten years of his life.
Saboteur: The Impaler School for Bastards was not the warm home the name makes it out to be. It was on my first day of classes that I realized that I lived in a cold, harsh world where a select few flourished on the backs of the many.
Professor Fumblebottom: I see a few new faces in my class today. There are a few rules you should know about before you begin your stay here at VISB. I will recite them for you once and only once. If you break these rules, you will not survive.
A horrified class looks on at the hideous Professor Fumblebottom. He adjusts his wire frame glasses that sit on a hideous hook nose. His mouth, a vortex of overlapping, yellow fangs, makes smacking noises as he speaks, and despite his stature (standing at no more than 52), every child in the class is terrified of him.
Professor Fumblebottom: Rule number one: never talk unless you are spoken to. You are insignificant and do not have that right. Rule number two: Dont ask questions. The only people that ask questions are those who arent smart enough to understand what theyre told the first time around! Rule number three: Follow the chain of command. You are all to follow the words of Headmaster Fernandez to the T. Below him are the teachers, including myself. Below us are the class prefects. Your class prefect is Jeremy. Jeremy, come up here.
A pale boy with neatly parted blond hair rises from his seat and confidently struts to the front of the classroom. At eight years of age, he is one of the older boys in the class, as well as one of the more sizable boys. Hes already taller than Professor Fumblebottom, and he is particularly wide for a child his age.
Professor Fumblebottom: If Jeremy sees any of you little brats making trouble, he has the permission of VISB to discipline you in anyway he sees fit. Jeremy is your leader, your boss, your king. You are to follow his every rule. Any questions?
Saboteur raises his hand. Professor Fumblebottom glares at him through his squinty, black eyes and sneers.
Professor Fumblebottom: Ahhh, I see weve found the class troublemaker already! Jeremy, discipline that boy!
Jeremy grins and cracks his knuckles as he pushes his way through the class towards Saboteur. Saboteur looks on in horror as Jeremy gets closer and closer, and is paralyzed by fear when Jeremy grabs him by the collar of his shirt and starts punching him in the face. Saboteur screams for help as Jeremy continuously pounds away, but nobody comes to his aid.
Professor Fumblebottom: Alright Jeremy, thats enough. It is his first offense after all. Hopefully this young man has learned his lesson.
Jeremy releases Saboteur, but clears his throat and spits a gigantic, sticky loogie at Saboteurs face.
Saboteur: I did learn a lesson that day: Some people just came out bad, and VISB was full of them. But I was young, scared, and alone. I didnt have the courage to fight back, so I did what most of the students did to get by: I kept my head down and tried to stay out of trouble. That didnt stop Jeremy from beating us whenever he felt like it, but that just became a part of our lives. We woke up, ate gruel, went to class, came home, at more gruel for dinner, got beaten by Jeremy, and repeated the process. It went on for years until I finally worked up the courage to fight back.
We come back to VISB several years in the future. Saboteur is now thirteen, and he has grown considerablylikely the second largest boy in his class behind only Jeremy. Saboteur sits on his cot, reading a TV Guide, when Jeremy walks over.
Jeremy: What are you reading, queerbone?
Jeremy grabs the magazine out of Saboteurs hands and starts flipping through it. Saboteur knows better than to retaliate.
Jeremy: A TV Guide? We dont even have a TV! And this issue is from 1976! What are you an idiot?
Jeremy rips the TV Guide in half. Saboteur furrows his brow, clenches his fist, and closes his eyes as tight as he can. When someone is angry everyday of their life, they learn to suppress that anger as best they can.
Jeremy smacks Saboteur on the back of the head and starts teasing him.
Jeremy: Awww, poor Saboteur wants to read his old TV Guide. Why? Because you miss watching TV with your mommy and daddy? Well youre never going to watch TV ever again, just like youre never going to see your mommy or daddy!
Saboteurs eyes shoot open. He locks eyes with Jeremy, and the smug look on Jeremys face fades to one of horror. The hatred is visible in Saboteurs eyes, and it begins to manifest itself throughout his body. Saboteur springs from the bed and tackles Jeremy to the ground. The two roll around on the floor for a while, but Jeremy gets the upper hand. Jeremy starts raining punches on Saboteur, but Saboteur doesnt seem to feel them. Blow after blow, Jeremy continuously wails on Saboteur, but the masked teen feels nothing. Jeremys punches slow down as he exhausts himself, and it is at this point that Saboteurs fortune changes. Saboteur quickly flips Jeremy over and pins him to the ground. Its now Saboteurs turn to deliver punishment, which he does as he starts throwing elbows at Jeremys face. Jeremy attempts to cover up, but Saboteur instead hooks his fingers in Jeremys nose and pulls, ripping the flesh from the bone. Blood begins to pour all over Jeremys face, and the boy unleashes a blood-curdling scream. Saboteur stands up and sits back down on his cot: blood staining his hands.
Minutes pass before anybody arrives on the scene. Professor Fumblebottom bursts through the doors to the dormitory and runs over to Jeremy.
Professor Fumblebottom: Who did this?!
Every boy in the bunk remains silent, with their eyes pointed against the wall across from them.
Professor Fumblebottom: Tell me who did this or none of you will eat for a week! No: a month!
Saboteur stands up from his bed and faces Fumblebottom.
Professor Fumblebottom: You! I should have known it was you! Youve always been an ingrate and a loser, and youll always be a loser! Im going to drag you to Headmaster Fernandezs office by your tongue! Im going to
*CRACK*
Saboteur round house kicks Fumblebottom in the head, and the portly professor drops to the ground, out cold.
Saboteur: It wasnt long before the other professors stormed the dormitory and dragged me off to the Headmasters Office. I waited there for what felt like hours, pondering my fate, wondering if I was ever going to live to see what lay outside of Vlad the Impalers School for Bastards.
The Headmasters Office is quite large, but quite cold. It is sparsely decorated apart from a gigantic portrait of a man (whom we can only assume is Headmaster Fernandez), a Nicaraguan Flag, and a skull on his desk.
Saboteur shifts uneasily in his chair as he waits for the headmaster, unsure of what his punishment would be. Expulsion would be a dream come true for Saboteur, which is exactly why he suspects that is not his faith. Is a physical beating in store for Saboteur? Some sort of mental torture perhaps? Or is there an even more terrible fate in the young boys future? Are the rumors of a dungeon beneath the school true? Is that where Saboteurs future lay?
The door to the office opens and a tall, handsome man walks in, clearly the same man from the portrait. He carries himself with an air of regality, but in such a way that he strikes fear into all that surround him. Saboteur is no exception to this. The Headmaster sits down in a large, leather chair behind his desk. He looks Saboteur in the eye and waits a few minutes before talking.
Headmaster Fernandez: So
jou are the boy that has been causing all sorts of trouble at my school tonight.
Saboteur nods.
Headmaster Fernandez: I dont like it when little boys step out of line. I like it even worse when they attack my faculty members. But I must admit, I like jour boldness Mr.
Saboteur is it?
Saboteur nods again.
Headmaster Fernandez: Do jou know who I am, Mr. Saboteur?
Saboteur shakes his head no.
Headmaster Fernandez: I, Mr. Saboteur, am Hector Fernandez III, the rightful ruler of Nicaragua! I was deposed by my second in command many jears ago, and I swore that day that I would get my revenge! Thats why I escaped to America and opened this orphanage: so I can train young boys to be my soldiers when I make my glorious return to Nicaragua!
Saboteur, jou have proven to resist my time-tested method of brainwashing children into being my personal army
and I like that. I need someone like jou in my ranks: someone that isnt afraid to take action when they know it is right in their heart! What do jou say, Saboteur? Will jou be my new number two?
Saboteur stands from his chair and places his palms on the Headmasters desk.
Saboteur: No. I wont be your number two.
Saboteur is prepared for the worst. He expects fire and brimstone to rain from the ceiling as Fernandez beats him with the riding crop he posed with for his portrait. What Saboteur isnt ready for, is the warm smile Fernandez flashes his way.
Headmaster Fernandez: Jou poor boy. You see this skull on my desk? Do jou want to know whom it belonged to? It belonged to the brother of the man that stole my country from me. I do not take kindly to betrayal, Mr. Saboteur, and when I am betrayed, I always get my revenge. So I will ask jou again: will jou be my new number two?
Saboteur shakes his head sternly.
Saboteur: You can take your number two and shove it up your ass, back where it came from!
Fernandez rears back and slaps Saboteur across the face, sending the boy crashing to the ground.
Headmaster Fernandez: Boys, get in here!
Several prefects rush into the office and grab Saboteur, dragging him to his feet. Fernandez walks forward and grabs Saboteurs face with one hand and uses his other hand to stick a finger in the boys face.
Headmaster Fernandez: Now jou listen here boy: I was the only thing keeping jou alive, the only thing keeping jou safe! But now jou are useless you me, like garbage. And jou know how we deal with garbage? We incinerate it! Take him to the basement boys, I dont ever want to see his face again!
The prefects smirk as they drag Saboteur from the Headmasters office. They taunt Saboteur and laugh at his misfortune as they lead him through the halls towards his inevitable death, but as they turn the corner, they see an army of students from all ages blocking their path.
Prefect: What are you pieces of shit doing out of bed? Get to bed or Ill mount your fucking scalp on my wall!
One student tilts his head back and releases a war cry before leading a charge at the prefects. The prefects prepare themselves for a fight and let go of Saboteur, but they are badly outnumbered, and the fight barely begins before the prefects are having their heads smashed against the cold cement floors of VISB. The professors rush to the scene to try and diffuse the situation, but the senior members of the school turn and run in horror as the students continue to rebel. A few students pick up some of the badly beaten prefects and begin carrying them down the hall, chanting battle songs and screaming like maniacs. Their destination is clear: Headmaster Fernandezs office. Saboteur stands in stunned silence as this student led revolution unfolds before his eyes. Many of his comrades give him nods of respect as they walk by: looking to Saboteur as if he was some sort of prophet, the spark that gave them the will to fight.
Saboteur follows the crowd to the Headmasters office, and sees a look of fear and anger on Fernandezs face as the doors to his office burst open and the army of students flood in.
Headmaster Fernandez: Stay back jou dogs! I will see to it that every last one of jou children never see the light of day again!
Fernandez swings his riding crop around wildly in an attempt to stall the advance of the students, but its no use. Students surround him on each side and they take little time to subdue their tormentor. Several students lift him above their head and start to carry him to a nearby window.
Headmaster Fernandez: Put me down! Ill give jou whatever jou want!
But the students want one thing, and one thing only: blood. With one mighty heave, the students toss Hector Fernandez III, former president of Nicaragua, through a glass window, dropping him four stories until his bloody corpse hits the ground, killing him on impact.
The students yell a victory cry, but the death of the wicked headmaster just barely whets their appetites. Various suggestions on how to continue their revolution are shouted throughout the crowd, but only one catches on.
Students: Burn it down! Burn it down! Burn it down!
The students scatter as they find anything flammable to use. Books from the library, wood from the workshop, paint from the shed, oil from the kitchen: the students stockpile it all in the schools basement. Most of the students are urged to go to the schools front lawn by the defacto leaders of the revolution, and Saboteur decides to follow this instruction.
Hundreds of students wait on the front lawn with baited breath. Headmaster Fernandezs lifeless body can be seen near the bushes by the schools front entrance. Several of the schools windows have been broken, and the commotion has drawn the attention of several of the schools neighbors as well. A few of the older students run out of the front entrance, eliciting a cheer from their fellow classmates. It is only a few seconds before the first story of the school is set ablaze, signifying the beginning of the end for the building that these children suffered for years inside of. The mood on the front lawn is celebratory. Children dance and sing; some shed tears of joy as they watch the symbol for all that is evil burn in front of their eyes. But not Saboteur.
Saboteur sits on a bench at the top of a nearby hill, watching The Vlad the Impaler School for Bastards burn; watching his peers celebrate their freedom; watching the worst of humanity. He stands up and turns his back to the event and walks away.
--------------------
Saboteur closes the book containing his origin story and nods to himself.
Big Dave: So
wow. Was any of that even true?
Saboteur: I may have embellished a few details, but for the most part, yeah, its true.
Big Dave: But why share it? Why not keep that locked away forever? Why relive that horrible chapter of your life?
Saboteur: Because, Deceptively Large Dave, its important to remember what happens when a few men are given too much power. Jeremy was a hired thug that was given free reign to treat other people anyway he saw fit, and it was his brutality that made the students snap in the first place. Fumblebottom enforced rules he made up simply so he could make his life easier. It was better for him that the majority suffer just so he doesnt have to work hard. And then Fernandez was using us all for his own personal gain, and he had little regard for things like humanity, decency, or compassion. All we were to him was a means to an end, and because of that, it lead to a revolution, but not the one he wanted.
Big Dave: So
whats your point?
Saboteur: The Vlad the Impaler School for Bastards was a horrible place because of only a select few horrible people. Whos to say that WZCW doesnt become the same place?
Look at what happened last week: Vance Bateman used his enormous power to let his henchman, Vega, break all sorts of rules and cost me a match. Neither of them show any regard for what is fair or right, and because of it, I suffered. But next time it wont just be me. Soon, all of WZCW will have to fear Vega and the free reign hes been given thanks to Bateman.
I need to stop Vega before WZCW gets to that point. WZCW is an amazing place with some amazing people, and I dont want to see it go the same way as VISB. Im going to stop Vega like I stopped Jeremy all those years ago. Im going to commit acts of brutality on him that wont only leave him broken and disfigured, but will inspire the rest of the roster to fight against evil. I cant let Vega win. I cant let Bateman win. I cant let Banks come in here and think he can change the way things work just so he can use WZCW to make money.
There wont be an Apocalypse this Sunday. I wont allow it. I am putting an end to whatever crazy scheme Bateman has cooked up, and then Im going to give Banks a piece of my mind. And you can count on that.
A few moments of silence pass as Big Dave digests Saboteurs speech.
Big Dave: You know, I thought working with you would be a lot more humorous. So far this experience has been rather dark.
Saboteur: There will be plenty of time to laugh during the next cycle. For now, Im all about winning this match.