A sorrow-filled El Mariachi Muerte sits, head bowed as his fingers pick out a slow melody on his guitar. His melodic voice sings out a dreary ballad.
‘Oh lament, oh lament.
Mi amigo, I trusted in you…
Oh lament’
Muerte lifts his head, the pain now clear in his eyes. Pain placed there by the betrayal of his closest friend. Slowly, his strumming picks up. Our eye catches a painting of a mariachi figure standing beside a tombstone behind him.
‘They say that trust, it is but only skin deep.
When opportunity knocks, it will break down your doors.
And yet, the scorn it burns as if it was a-murder,
When trust is what holds the bond together, nothing more.’
‘This tale of two souls, perfectly suited,
to ferry souls unto Underworld.
One sings of death, the other rows the passage.
To final destinations yet to be unfurled.’
Muerte looks down, images upon his table of different members of OSW catch our eye.
‘Wayward souls
Muerte viene.
As the song plays
So shall it be.’
One by one, images of different Double Tap teams catch our attention.
‘Eight by two souls await, ready for the journey.
The bell tolls, souls set off against the tide.
Toiling ‘gainst the current, out of their control.
For whom the bell tolls, passengers for this ride.’
A pause. His fingers continue to play over images of different foes.
‘Muerte viene
As the song plays.’
‘What say you, who thinks you have power?
What say you, who thinks you have control?
To stave off death, it is futile.
When the second bell tolls, ‘tis the end for your soul.’
‘Some will say they believe them immortal,
They cheat Death, but it comes with a friend.
The bell sounds and it is final.
The first starts the journey, the second its end.’
The image of PrettyUgly catches our eye, the belts glinting around their waist.
‘Be you friends, enemies or past lovers,
Two bells toll and for you it’s the end.’
‘Be you friends, enemies or past lovers,
Two bells toll and for you it’s the end.’
‘Even you who do bidding of Muerte,
Cannibals and plagues your weaponry,
The bell tolls the start of your journey,
Muerte, they come.
Muerte, they come.
Muerte, they come.
Your song it will soon come to be.’
‘Muerte viene,
As the song plays,
So it shall be.’
Muerte continues to play as he looks towards us, now speaking his mind aloud.
“Mi amigos. Muerte viene, death comes friends.
This week at the tolling of the first bell of Double Tap, the journey of eternity begins. Eternity’s song will play out in the toing and froing of our dance within the squared circle. But it is the second bell that signals the end.
Death unites us all. One rows the journey, the other plays the song. Yet when the song ends only two will be standing, for Double Tap signals the Day of the Dead. A bond born out of death, not trust. The dawning of a new day has begun. Let the song play, mi amigos.”