[For some, the morning sun creeping through your bedroom window can be a rude awakening. Such is the case for Harold Attano this morning. As the sun falls upon his face, his eyes flutter open. Groggily he pushes himself up, pulling himself to a sitting position on the edge of his bed. He puts his head in his hands for a moment but something out of the corner of his eye catching his attention.]
[His television flickers, but nothing seems to happen. That is, until he notices the green cursor blinking in the top righthand corner of the black screen.]
[terminal]access_granted= “True”Preparing transmission..[/terminal]
[Attano’s head tilts to the side, as he continues to stare at the television screen. Within moments, words begin to appear on the screen as if they are being typed out.]
[terminal]> Good morning, Harold.> I was once told the story of a great warrior. Long before Olympus
> was built, this man dominated anyone who dare challenge him to
> combat. He was a man who seemed unstoppable. Undefeated, even.
> Months, years even, go by without anyone stepping up to the challenge.
> As they say, every dog has his day, and this story will be no different.
> After years of challengers being disposed of, a promising young
> underdog would step to the plate. To the eye, he wasn’t much of a
> threat, and as such The Mighty Warrior and those who looked on
> would laugh at him. However, after a grueling battle, it was the underdog
> who stood on top, the Mighty Warrior fallen in defeat below him. That
> night, the village roared with hope and dance in celebration.
> The Warrior who ran roughshod through their village
> doing as he pleased had finally been silenced. They partied all through
> the night. They drank until they couldn’t stand, and then the hero underdog
> went to rest up for the next day was sure to be full of glory. That night
> the disgruntled Mighty Warrior snuck into his room and slit the hero’s fucking
> throat..
> You see, Harold, much like the underdog, last week you may have
> won the battle. But darling, this war is far from over. Last week at Thuder
> I may have underestimated you just like the Mighty Warrior underestimated
> the hero underdog. I took the prisoner fresh off of Death Row for granted.
> I saw a disgruntled old man who had been beaten and bruised for the
> crimes he had committed, and I thought you had nothing left.
> This week, the battleground is much different, yet we meet again. Despite
> all your efforts, the war has not yet been won. This week, I will not
> make the same mistake twice. Just like the Mighty Warrior, I’m disgruntled
> and when that bell sounds, I’m coming for your fuckin’ throat. Because
> when the dust settles, there will be nobody left to remember the peasant
> that came from Death Row. I assure you, doll, that Jinx will win this war.
> You’re playing a game that you’ve already lost..
GAME OVER[/terminal]
[With that, the screen goes all fuzzy and then shuts off completely, leaving Harold alone with his thoughts.]