Post by 💀 ＡＰＯＫ 💀 on Mar 30, 2020 18:04:20 GMT -5
The scene fades in to Apokalypse trying to operate the DMV website to update his vehicle registration prior to his road trip from Death Valley to Denver. He turns around and looks at the camera, acting surprised.
"Jack Jones… you can call me Apokalypse, Apok, Apokalyptico, A-Pokman, Ronald McDonald, Tom Brady, Sally Field… or any other name under the sun. The only name that matters after Titans is Winner. I will put up with all of your silliness for the time being. The pinching of cheeks. Talking to me like a baby. It's all fine and dandy… until that opening bell sounds."
"How long have I been wrestling? That stupid narrator in chapter one already explained my history. I don't think milk and prayers will help… but carrots and an eye exam might go a long way. I can tell that you're not taking me or my threats seriously… and that will prove to be a grave mistake. I know a thing or two about graves. I have already dug enough for the entire SFT roster."
He turns back to the computer, ignoring the camera for a few minutes. Once he has processed the registration, he turns back to the camera.
"Jack… I want to address your request to play laser tag or play some pogs after our match. If there is anything left of you once I'm done… then sure… I would love to play laser tag with you. As for pogs… son… you're not old enough to know about pogs. Get on outta here with that nonsense. Leave pogs to the adults around here, bucko. Then again… if there's enough of you after Titans… I could show you how awesome pogs were. We just might become best friends after all."
"How many more friends do I have here in SFT? I haven't met anyone yet. Next week at Titans… I'll bring cupcakes to share with the class. Who else will be there? Saints… Twilight… Cypher… Jamo… Cassandra… Reaper. I'll bring extras so everyone has enough. Then again… given how much I've threatened each… and every… one of you… should you really trust that I won't poison the cupcakes?"
"Yes… I'm a bad, bad man… and I'm going to do bad, bad things… to each… and every… one of you… starting with Jack Jones. One more week until we go to war, young man. Make sure you drink your milk and say your prayers. Don’t stay up past your bedtime. Make slip in some vitamins to make you as strong as possible so I look even stronger by beating the soul out of you at Titans next week. Everything in my arsenal is a doomsday device, kid. You won’t know which one will be your inevitable downfall until it’s too late.”
He gets up and walks to the door, grabbing keys off of a hook.
“I have to go get an oil change and tire rotation so my car is in tip top shape to make that insane road trip. I am putting so much effort into this mission… and it’s a foregone conclusion that you are in over your head, Cowboy.”
He sighs.
“But… for the next week… I will continue to go above and beyond… to prove that I am the master of the universe known as Apokalypse.”
The scene fades out... and beyond.
"Apokalypse has come and gone. We're just grubbing in the ashes."
-Samuel R. Delany
-Samuel R. Delany
