[Foreward] What irony; one of the things in this world that I happen to despise the most has reared its ugly head as my first opponent here in Chaos Heat Zone. Hicks... Rednecks.. or as I like to call them "Shit wearing a Stetson". They serve no purpose; well, except country music. Country music? It's dogshit boring. Get with the new world because your days of driving your big trucks and drinking moonshine are over, heehaws.
[Scene] The scene opens up outside a beautiful restored two-story home in the outskirts of Chicago, Illinois. The camera focuses in on the porch, where a wooden swing makes a low creaking noise as it rocks slowly in the breeze. The camera turns to find Josh Sutton sitting on the ledge. A cigarette hangs from his lips loosely. He reaches up and grips it between his fingers, exhaling. He tips his shades with his free hand and faces the camera, a sly smirk beaming.
Sutton: Welcome to my humble abode.. I hope finding it didn't trouble you. Anyway, I've asked you here today for quite the simple task. It seems I've found quite the specimen to be my first victim.. My prime cut, so to speak. Just stand there, keep the camera focused, and we'll get through this just fine, precious.
[Scene] Sutton takes a final drag off the cigarette then puts it out on the concrete stoop. Josh returns his focus to the camera.
Sutton: Dwight Maverick, meet the beginning of your losses. No introduction needed, of course. The only thing you need to know about me is: words are empty. I've always been one to let my actions speak the clarity. (brief pause) Now, at the arena I watched you snatch a victory from Sean Andretti. That's fine and dandy, Dwight ol' buddy, but there's something you better take heed to right now; I'm not Sean Andretti. Andretti isn't even half the man you see before you.
[Scene] Sutton pauses for a brief moment, pulling another self-rolled cigarette from his shirt pocket and hastily putting it between his lips. He pulls out a black zippo and lights the cancer stick, inhaling a deep stack of it before returning the zippo to his pants' pocket. He flicks the ashes and holds the cigarette between his index, middle, and thumb. He looks down at the cigarette.
Sutton: You know, when you think about it... Life.. It's kind of like a cigarette. It's short... It can burn...It can leave an everlasting impression. But in the end... It always gets snuffed out. And on Wednesday, Dwight; just like this cigarette.. (Sutton focuses harder on the cigarette, smiling wickedly) You're going to get snuffed.. out. Because there's no way I'm going to be burdened losing my debut match; to a cowboy none-the-less. It goes like this, hillbilly... You bring the beer, I'll bring the blood... And when the water hits and the pain surfaces... there will be no where for you to go but beneath the currents of the undertow...
[Scene] Sutton flicks the cigarette at the camera man causing him to lose balance and topple over and hit the ground. You hear footsteps and Sutton now stands over the camera, looking down.
Sutton: And that my friends... is the end.
[Scene] The last thing you see is Sutton's foot rising into the air... then... static... fade...to...black