Post by prophet on Mar 22, 2008 14:17:15 GMT -5
As the March Madness PPV continues, the video feed is suddenly broken at some random point. The screen breaks up and then the scene shifts from the arena to the halls of a mental institution. Standing in the center of the hallway is a man dressed in all black, a hat covering his face from view. In his right hand tucked under his arm is a black book which he opens as he begins to speak.
Brothers and sisters. Let me be the your guiding light as I share with you my words. Here I stand in the last beacon of hope for those who's minds slip away from them. The delusional, misguided heathens who lack what all you deem to be sanity.
I stand here to speak to you the truth. In that truth I say that these madmen and psychopaths that you confine in these padded walls, these solitary cells...the ones whom you sedate and medicate in hopes of helping...are no different than you. There you sit in your homes or in that arena and revel in violence. In bloodshed, in the pain and suffering of man in combat with his own. It's symoblic of man as a whole...feeding off each other like leeches, sucking out the life blood of this world with every breath you take.
He looks straightforward, his eyes obscured by dark, round sunglasses.
Oh no brothers and sisters, those in this asylum don't suffer from the only madness there is. You do all the same...and the cure isn't rehabilitation. It's redemption. It's retribution. It's having all that you hold dear taken. Your heroes fallen. Your villains vanquished for all of that is trivial in the grand scheme of things.
Looking down to his book he begins to flip through pages.
The book tells me that a change is in the air. The times is coming when all the material will mean nothing when you are staring your imminent destruction in the eye. All that matters is life and death brothers and sisters...and all that you know to be is soon coming to an end. The madness will all be gone then. Eternal peace will be the result, a world that exists without you.
And that my friends...is prophecy.
The man slowly lowers his head. A short in the lighting occurs and the video feed interupts, leading to screens around the world going black.
[/center]Brothers and sisters. Let me be the your guiding light as I share with you my words. Here I stand in the last beacon of hope for those who's minds slip away from them. The delusional, misguided heathens who lack what all you deem to be sanity.
I stand here to speak to you the truth. In that truth I say that these madmen and psychopaths that you confine in these padded walls, these solitary cells...the ones whom you sedate and medicate in hopes of helping...are no different than you. There you sit in your homes or in that arena and revel in violence. In bloodshed, in the pain and suffering of man in combat with his own. It's symoblic of man as a whole...feeding off each other like leeches, sucking out the life blood of this world with every breath you take.
He looks straightforward, his eyes obscured by dark, round sunglasses.
Oh no brothers and sisters, those in this asylum don't suffer from the only madness there is. You do all the same...and the cure isn't rehabilitation. It's redemption. It's retribution. It's having all that you hold dear taken. Your heroes fallen. Your villains vanquished for all of that is trivial in the grand scheme of things.
Looking down to his book he begins to flip through pages.
The book tells me that a change is in the air. The times is coming when all the material will mean nothing when you are staring your imminent destruction in the eye. All that matters is life and death brothers and sisters...and all that you know to be is soon coming to an end. The madness will all be gone then. Eternal peace will be the result, a world that exists without you.
And that my friends...is prophecy.
The man slowly lowers his head. A short in the lighting occurs and the video feed interupts, leading to screens around the world going black.
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