Post by 'The Shine' Brent Alpine on Jun 26, 2016 16:59:47 GMT -5
Welcome to Casa Alpine. Get comfortable, make yourself at home, take a seat. Except you can't because all the seats are taken. The vintage brown leather couch is occupied by Alpine's E.M.S. entourage, a ragtag bunch that shepherd the Australian superstar's wellbeing. His spiritual guru and cousin, the unconventional Dallas Culture, sits in the lotus position with his eyes closed in a zen like state. To his right in the middle of the couch is the adorable Esther, Brent's nurse and, some would argue, moral compass. She is stroking the miniature pig to her left. It is a cute and comical creature, especially with the intricate looking headset which is used to serve far more sinister means.
Yes, you've guessed it - this is Percy Micro, Alpine's psychological puppet master. This pernicious pet is fitted with technology to spy on and communicate with Brent to serve an as yet unrevealed purpose. We've previously learnt that Micro is ultimately controlled by an individual only known as 'Percy Macro' who may or may not be otherwise connected to the WCF in another guise. He sometimes speaks through the pig himself but has often been known to employ students to operate Micro's camera and microphone on a 24 hour basis. What is clear is that this is an individual of great power and malevolence.
On the other side of the way too plush and elaborate living room to truly describe here, 'The Shine' rests comfortably in his seat, or more appropriately, throne. The best way to envision it would be to imagine Xerxes' throne in the film 300 except for statues of Alpine's face instead of the bull statues and 'The Shine' carved in a lighter gold around the top of the rim. He sits opposite a much less grand office chair, manned by the diligent and ever professional Hank Brown. Like a good reporter, he is studying printed notes. Upon receiving his cue, he looks directly at Alpine but the antipodean grappler is too busy gazing over at Esther.
Hank Brown: Brent, we are just a few short days before Blast where you will receive a shot at the Television Title. What are your thoughts on your opponent, Henry Spearman?
Brent Alpine: Who the bloody hell is Henry Spearman?
Hank Brown: Oh, forgive me. Up until this week, he went by the name of Neforian.
Brent Alpine: Who the bloody hell is Neforian?
Hank Brown: The TV Champion. Your opponent at Blast.
Brent Alpine: TV Title? I'm in World Title match, you drongo. The final of the Classic.
Hank Brown: Err no. You were knocked out of Classic several weeks ago by Stuart Slane. You're competing for the TV Title, I assure you. Are you having issues with your memory again?
With that, a mechanical drone emanates from the other side of the room.
Percy Micro: Mr. Alpine's memory has been perfectly fine following his recent 'episode'. His focus and attitude, however, has been an aberration.
Brent Alpine: Steady on mate.
Percy Micro: I will not 'steady on', you pathetic, insolent child. You are an abomination to my master's investment in you. He doesn't associate with just anyone. He surrounds himself with greatness, with the elite as he is the cream of the crop. You should be unreservedly grateful and honoured that he has considered you worthy of mentoring. Your talent is undeniable but you are wasting it with your complacent, happy go lucky mind set. You are wasting it with mercy and apathy. You are wasting it on LOVE.
This takes Esther's interest in particular. She gets fidgety.
Esther: Love?
Percy Micro: Don't pretend you don't know, Miss Esther! You are just as culpable. Don't think I am unaware of the googoo eyes you cast at each other. You are reducing Mr. Alpine to a mere mortal and a mediocre one at that. You must resign immediately and get out of his life.
Alpine shuffles in his throne and his face reddens uncharacteristically.
Esther: 'Googoo eyes'? That is a complete lie! Brent is my patient, first and foremost. I am a professional. And not only that, I'm a Christian and he's an unbeliever. The Bible says not to be unequally yoked so there's absolutely ZERO chance of anything between us.
Brent offers an unconvincing laugh. Yet strain is all too evident through the contours of his face.
Brent Alpine: Strewth! As if I would have feelings for HER! I'm 'The Shine'. Why would I go for such an average plain Jane when every woman on this planet dreams about riding me like a bloody buckaroo?
Esther grits her teeth and stares dejectedly into space.
Percy Micro: Don't confuse me with a fool! This sentiment is your downfall, Mr. Alpine. You've just been defeated by Teddy Blaze and couldn't overcome Mikey eXtreme, two of the biggest jokes in the WCF. You lost to perpetual loser Stuart Slane. There's absolutely no way you would have beaten Steve Orbit had my boss not annihilated him for you. This week Neforian will be your adversary. He's won 6 matches and has not been defeated once. If you lived up to your full potential, you would decimate him back to being the curtain raiser he truly is but, in your current state, he's liable to paralyse you.
You are PISSING on the best gift you could ever receive. That's not just a shame. That won't merely be a disappointment. Your brazen indifference to my master's leadership will have severe consequences. He does not take it lightly when he offers a hand and it is not taken. There will soon come a day when you will reap the devastation of overlooking my boss' generosity. You will wish that mother and father Alpine had never had that glint in the eye that spawned your sorry self. You life will be so shattered that you'll cry out to Satan to take you to Hell, if only for a little relief. Do you understand me?
Percy's red microphone light switches off. Alpine smirks.
Brent Alpine: Aww Percy, my lovable dingo. You're obviously having a bad day. Dallas, go fill up his trough. I think the little fella is hungry.
Culture awakes from his meditative state and walks off into another room. Alpine and Esther exchange awkward glances. They appear to have totally forgotten that Hank Brown is in their company.
Hank Brown: OK, maybe it's best I complete this interview another time.
He collects his notes, slides them into his briefcase and heads out. Alpine and Esther sit in silence and Percy Micro's mic is still off. Suddenly, Dallas Culture returns with a black envelope in his hand.
Dallas Culture: We've just had some mail come through the door.
He opens it. Inside is a small slip of black card with a written message.
Dallas Culture: OOH A PARTY! We've been invited to The Masquerade Ball... tonight. How wonderful! I get good vibes about this.
Brent Alpine: Sounds bonza. There's no such thing as a party without The Shine! Who invited us?
Dallas Culture: It doesn't say. It looks gothic and gloriously decadent, I must say.
Alpine studies the black letter, intrigued.
Brent Alpine and his Earth Moon Son pastoral team peer up at an eerily impressive building. It is a behemoth structure of sandstone brick with an archway that is flanked by two vast pillars and holds a mysterious stairway that leads down to the an underground area out of sight. At the top of the archway, is a glowing bulb that looks like an eye. It illuminates another symbol to its left, which appears to be a square and set of compasses with a 'G' in the middle. Esther quivers and starts to turn back.
Brent Alpine: Is this the right address? Doesn't look like a party. Esther, is this your weird attempt to get us to come to church again?
Esther: No, this is a masonic temple. We have to go back. There's a lot of darkness in there.
Dallas Culture: Ah the Freemasons! I have some Freemason friends. Dear blessed men. I'm drawn to them because they know the truth of the Universe. They know that God is who we make him... or her. They perform rituals designed to raise their level of consciousness. They're really quite enlightened people. And boy do they know how to throw a party!
Esther: Look, they might want you to think it's just a gentlemen's club with a few harmless ceremonies but, honestly, it's totally demonic. They hook people in with women and power and the promise that they'll have each other's backs. If you get a parking ticket, it's taken care of. If a neighbour is being too loud, they are 'spoken to'. If someone plans to build a nightclub by your home, the planning application is rejected. That is simply how they lure men further up the pyramid. From there, it gets darker and darker. At the top level, we're talking sacrificing babies, Satanic worship, murder...
Her voice cracks and she starts to shake.
Esther: We can't go in here. These parties tend to be where the more sinister Masons congregate. There's all sorts of powers and principalities of evil in this place. I can sense it in my spirit. We need to leave NOW!
Percy Micro: Silence, Esther! Shut up with your Christian fairy tales and paranoia. We are going to this party and, as his nurse, you are contractually bound to accompany Mr. Alpine at this time.
Esther: I've already exceeded my contracted hours this week. Anyway, you were calling for me to resign earlier!
Brent Alpine: Come on Percy, if she wants to go home, she's free to go home. This ain't a flaming dictatorship mate.
Esther: Thank you Brent. But please, I urge you not to go in. It might look enticing and exhilarating in that party but it's rotten to the core. Anyway Percy, weren't you telling Brent to take his WCF career more seriously? How will this party help him prepare for Neforian this Sunday?
Percy Micro: I know best. He is going to the party and that's final.
Alpine shrugs as he, Dallas and Percy disappear through the entrance and up the stairs. Esther starts to leave but looks back over her shoulder.
Esther: Lord, protect us all.
Anxiously, she follows them inside.
We follow the group down a dark staircase that spirals before reaching a flat area. As we get further down, we see a faintly lit stoned surface with a door guarded by a silhouetted figure. The closer we get, the more the figure is revealed. It is a shapely woman standing proudly in lacy black underwear, stockings and suspenders. Her figure is flawless and Alpine's darting eyes can hardly take in her beauty. Her hair is a brilliant, mesmerising blonde but her face is concealed by a golden mask fashioned into a waterfall shape with teardrops from the eyes. She speaks from her unconcealed, pouty rouge lips.
Masked Woman: Welcome. You must be our special guests. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. My name is Rusalka. I would be honoured to permit your entrance but I ask you first to adorn yourself with these precious garments. In this place, we are not the identities that we hold throughout the rest of our lives. We are children of mystery, so beautifully vulnerable but so luxuriously sacred. The masks allow us to truly submit to our desires in liberty.
Esther: I am not wearing anything you give me!
Rusalka: Are you certain?
She holds up a beautiful red silk negligee in front of Esther. Alpine and Culture's eyes bulge in imagination. Brent offers a wolf whistle as Esther blushes redder than the negligee.
Esther: You keep it. I'll go in just as I am.
Rusalka: Very well, you are free here. Just as you are free to worship Jesus here.
Esther: How do you know I'm a Christian?
Rusalka: I can see it in your aura. You bear the imprint of Yeshua. We have other followers of Yeshua here. You need not worry, my cherub. As for you gentlemen and you... err, pig sir, please change into your attire before you enter the party. There's a changing room through the corridor beyond this door.
Rusalka bends over provocatively to reach into a large black sack and pulls out two men's suits, three masks and a small suit that would seem to fit a pig. As Alpine takes his clothing, she seductively leans in to him and whispers sweetly into his ear. Her words are audible.
Rusalka: Tonight is about exploring your wildest desires. Dreams will come true. Nothing is off limits for you. Not even me.
She presses her awe inspiring body into Alpine and parts her legs next to his. He moves away, looking sheepishly at Esther.
Brent Alpine: Maybe later. It's time for me to start this party!
He heads for the door. Rusalka smiles at Esther and winks at her. As Esther follows the rest of her posse, Rusalka stops her by the door and brushes up to her in the same way she did to Alpine. Esther holds her off but this doesn't stop Rusalka whispering in her ear.
Rusalka: I know you're not the good girl you present yourself as. Inside you is a roaring flame of desire and it will only grow. You want him, don't you? You can have him. Inside you. Filling you up and ravaging you with furious passion. If you don't let this fire be quenched, it will only burn away at you more and more. If you don't let him fuck you like you know he wants to, I will be more than happy to let him explode inside of me.
Esther: You don't even know him. I've been on the road with him for months now and he's not that kind of guy.
Rusalka: All guys are that kind of guy and you know it. How do you know it? Because you're that kind of girl.
With this, Rusalka sensually prods her lubricated tongue into Esther's dainty earlobe. Esther quivers submissively before pushing her away and proceeding inside. Rusalka laughs mischievously.
The party is in full swing. It is a mesmeric sight of gothic architecture, chequered flooring and, most strikingly, a collection of nubile, scantily clad bodies - both male and female.
Half the attendees are in formal, dinner attire while the other half are in underwear or even naked. A brief look around uncovers several unusual sights. A suited businessman is behind a nubile young woman, ramming her powerfully into the marble floor. Her alarmingly guttural moans are calmed by occasional commands of 'harder'. An older gentlemen is receiving what appears to be oral sex from a young Indian man. A group of women, both clothed and in a state of undress, are kissing and groping each other while a man sniffs cocaine from a thong covered backside. Other people are drinking, smoking and generally engaged in all sorts of debauchery imaginable. And some unimaginable.
Alpine is merely surveying the scene in bewilderment.
As we pan around, we see Dallas Culture underneath a bevvy of beauties. He is licking their bare feet as they tread all over and around him. He appears to be hypnotised by the experience.
Percy Micro, in a small black suit, is eating out of a large bowl. Closer inspection reveals that he is eating a mixture of bacon and sausages, his own kind. A nearby man appears to be playing with himself at the sight.
Esther, dressed in a demure t-shirt and baggy jeans, is in tears on the floor. She is bowing down in prayer.
Esther: Who so ever dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. Father, I need your protection here. Please bring light to this place and show them their sin.
A young man with an Adonis physique approaches her. He is wearing thin gold trunks which hide an ample package. He positions it towards her face as she remains kneeled.
Buff Man: You seem hungry. Would you like something to put in your mouth?
Esther gets up and slaps him round the face.
Esther: Does your mother know you're here?
The man gropes her breasts. Suddenly, Brent Alpine comes out of nowhere and punches the man to the floor.
Brent Alpine: Keep your fucking hands to yourself!
Esther continues to weep and hugs Brent.
Esther: I want to leave.
Alpine clasps her hand and leads her back towards the entrance. As he reaches the door, someone behind it slams it open into his face. This knocks Alpine to the ground, unconscious. Rusalka emerges, along with a large cloaked figure. The shady individual carries him through to the other end of the large room, at Rusalka's instruction. Esther is screaming.
Esther: He's been in there for twenty minutes now and I don't know what they're doing with him. I tried to get into that room but it's locked. No one's telling me what's going on.
We are now outside and Dallas Culture has a comforting arm around a distraught Esther. Her tears fall on his crisp white shit. Percy Micro is sitting still next to them, almost traumatised.
Dallas Culture: There's not much we can do. We have to honour their ceremonies. These men will kill us if their rituals are not honoured. Brent is part of something bigger.
Esther: I thought you said this was basically just a Gentlemen's Club?
Dallas Culture: They are Gentlemen but they hold their covenants dear and protect them viciously. By entering that party, we made a covenant with them that we must obey. Tonight, we enjoyed the benefits but good things do not come free. If they want Brent for something, then that's the price we pay.
Esther: Hang on, let me get this straight. You think that, because you licked a few toes, it gives them the right to take Brent for whatever purposes they wish to fulfil? And what about me and Brent, we had no 'benefits'. We were too disgusted to get involved. Anyway, what are they going to do with him? They won't... sacrifice him?... can they?
Dallas Culture: Of course they won't. I don't think.
Esther: We need to do something.
Dallas Culture: We can't. It's not safe.
Esther: Can't we call the police?
Dallas Culture: These people ARE the police!
Esther collapses into a heap on the floor, her head in her hands.
Esther: I can't believe this. Those people are savages. They indulge in evil and wickedness. They fed Percy pork which says it all. They're so gluttonous and debaucherous that they are eating themselves! And now they've taken Brent from us!
Dallas Culture: He'll be OK. Just... pray or something.
We are now in a grand ceremonial room of gold, silver, jewels and blood red curtain. Decorative figures that depict a variety of depraved symbols are all over the walls. Brent Alpine is tied to an elevated stone slab. A tall cloaked figure in deep red garbs stands over Alpine. He is holding a knife. Below the altar, Rusalka and the man in the black cloak who carried Alpine in are kneeling in reverence to the 'high priest' who has The Shine captive.
High Priest: Wake up, Mr. Alpine!
The priest holds his knife to Brent's forehead and carves a slight mark. He rubs his finger through the tiny pool of blood that emerges. Alpine comes back to consciousness.
High Priest: I will keep this simple and brief. I am the man known as Percy Macro. The man behind the pig, if you will. As my employee explained, I have an investment in you and I do not like my investments to come up void. YOU WILL YIELD TO ME!
Brent Alpine: What are you going to do? Kill me?
High Priest: Worse. I will tell the world what you did in Cairns.
Alpine recoils in sheer horror.
Brent Alpine: Err how... how... do you know about... err, Cairns?
High Priest: I know everything about you. I also know everything about Esther. She isn't the woman you think.
Brent Alpine: OK. What do I need to do for you?
High Priest: For a start, you can verbally and physically destroy Henry 'Neforian' Spearman. No mercy, no grace. Then, I want you to fire Esther.
Alpine sighs agonisingly.
Brent Alpine: Consider it so.
Esther and Dallas are still sat outside by the temple entrance. They look despondent. At that moment, Brent Alpine runs out.
Brent Alpine: Let's run.
TWO DAYS LATER
We are back in Brent Alpine's luxurious apartment. The mood this time is more tense and serious. Hank Brown starts his questioning again.
Hank Brown: Thanks Brent for rescheduling. So with Blast this evening, how are y...
He is interrupted. Alpine appears to be reading from something.
Brent Alpine: Shut up, Hank.
I have a message for Henry 'Neforian' Spearman.
Henry, I've seen your life play out on our screens. You want to elicit sympathy. Aren't you an outcast? Oh poor clef pallet FUCK. The bitches and jocks didn't like you because you're so different and special. WAA WAA WAA. I don't give a shit. The people are starting to want the best for you. They want to see justice done. You appeal to the loser in all of them. Well, I have news for you. I am not a loser.
Remember Tyler O'Connell, the bully quarterback who spat in your burger? Remember April Hightower, the school queen bee who made you feel like a cuckold? Remember Tim, supposed friend who stole April away from you and made you feel so small?
Well, I have news for you. Tyler is now a balding slob in an unhappy marriage with a mundane job. April got fat and bangs drug addicts for a living. Tim's dead. Yep, justice is served...
But oh no it isn't because I'll bring you more disgrace than all of those losers combined. And you know what the difference is? I will not decline like they did. Kids are cruel but they grow up and conform to loserdom. I have never been there. I have always SHINED and will forevermore. You are the bottom of the social totem poll, Henry.
You believe in righteous retribution but you also talk about people letting out their caged animal and surrendering to the darkness? What a deluded peon. Can you not see the contradiction? I think you're confused. The only caged animal you are letting out is a maggot!
You preach on darkness because you'll never know anything different. For I am the light, the effervescent glow of excellence.
And now...
Alpine's eyes strain at the piece of paper from which he is reciting.
Brent Alpine: Percy, I can't say this.
Percy Micro: Cairns, Mr. Alpine.
Alpine sighs and almost appears in tears. He looks into the camera with compassion in his eyes.
Brent Alpine: I'm sorry, Henry.
He consults his script again, trembling.
Brent Alpine: And as for your... mother. That's right, I'm going THERE.
You say you want to make your mother proud. You want to do what's right by her memory. Well guess what...?
He fights back tears.
Brent Alpine: Maggie Spearman can't see you from Hell. She's making your favourite treat, eggo waffle and syrup for Hitler. While sucking off Stalin.
Esther: BRENT! What's going on? Why are you saying these things?
In deep shame, Brent looks at Esther and nervously looks towards Percy Micro.
Percy Micro: Do your job, Mr. Alpine.
Brent Alpine: Esther, I'm afraid our working relationship isn't working out. Pack your things and go.
Fade to black.
Yes, you've guessed it - this is Percy Micro, Alpine's psychological puppet master. This pernicious pet is fitted with technology to spy on and communicate with Brent to serve an as yet unrevealed purpose. We've previously learnt that Micro is ultimately controlled by an individual only known as 'Percy Macro' who may or may not be otherwise connected to the WCF in another guise. He sometimes speaks through the pig himself but has often been known to employ students to operate Micro's camera and microphone on a 24 hour basis. What is clear is that this is an individual of great power and malevolence.
On the other side of the way too plush and elaborate living room to truly describe here, 'The Shine' rests comfortably in his seat, or more appropriately, throne. The best way to envision it would be to imagine Xerxes' throne in the film 300 except for statues of Alpine's face instead of the bull statues and 'The Shine' carved in a lighter gold around the top of the rim. He sits opposite a much less grand office chair, manned by the diligent and ever professional Hank Brown. Like a good reporter, he is studying printed notes. Upon receiving his cue, he looks directly at Alpine but the antipodean grappler is too busy gazing over at Esther.
Hank Brown: Brent, we are just a few short days before Blast where you will receive a shot at the Television Title. What are your thoughts on your opponent, Henry Spearman?
Brent Alpine: Who the bloody hell is Henry Spearman?
Hank Brown: Oh, forgive me. Up until this week, he went by the name of Neforian.
Brent Alpine: Who the bloody hell is Neforian?
Hank Brown: The TV Champion. Your opponent at Blast.
Brent Alpine: TV Title? I'm in World Title match, you drongo. The final of the Classic.
Hank Brown: Err no. You were knocked out of Classic several weeks ago by Stuart Slane. You're competing for the TV Title, I assure you. Are you having issues with your memory again?
With that, a mechanical drone emanates from the other side of the room.
Percy Micro: Mr. Alpine's memory has been perfectly fine following his recent 'episode'. His focus and attitude, however, has been an aberration.
Brent Alpine: Steady on mate.
Percy Micro: I will not 'steady on', you pathetic, insolent child. You are an abomination to my master's investment in you. He doesn't associate with just anyone. He surrounds himself with greatness, with the elite as he is the cream of the crop. You should be unreservedly grateful and honoured that he has considered you worthy of mentoring. Your talent is undeniable but you are wasting it with your complacent, happy go lucky mind set. You are wasting it with mercy and apathy. You are wasting it on LOVE.
This takes Esther's interest in particular. She gets fidgety.
Esther: Love?
Percy Micro: Don't pretend you don't know, Miss Esther! You are just as culpable. Don't think I am unaware of the googoo eyes you cast at each other. You are reducing Mr. Alpine to a mere mortal and a mediocre one at that. You must resign immediately and get out of his life.
Alpine shuffles in his throne and his face reddens uncharacteristically.
Esther: 'Googoo eyes'? That is a complete lie! Brent is my patient, first and foremost. I am a professional. And not only that, I'm a Christian and he's an unbeliever. The Bible says not to be unequally yoked so there's absolutely ZERO chance of anything between us.
Brent offers an unconvincing laugh. Yet strain is all too evident through the contours of his face.
Brent Alpine: Strewth! As if I would have feelings for HER! I'm 'The Shine'. Why would I go for such an average plain Jane when every woman on this planet dreams about riding me like a bloody buckaroo?
Esther grits her teeth and stares dejectedly into space.
Percy Micro: Don't confuse me with a fool! This sentiment is your downfall, Mr. Alpine. You've just been defeated by Teddy Blaze and couldn't overcome Mikey eXtreme, two of the biggest jokes in the WCF. You lost to perpetual loser Stuart Slane. There's absolutely no way you would have beaten Steve Orbit had my boss not annihilated him for you. This week Neforian will be your adversary. He's won 6 matches and has not been defeated once. If you lived up to your full potential, you would decimate him back to being the curtain raiser he truly is but, in your current state, he's liable to paralyse you.
You are PISSING on the best gift you could ever receive. That's not just a shame. That won't merely be a disappointment. Your brazen indifference to my master's leadership will have severe consequences. He does not take it lightly when he offers a hand and it is not taken. There will soon come a day when you will reap the devastation of overlooking my boss' generosity. You will wish that mother and father Alpine had never had that glint in the eye that spawned your sorry self. You life will be so shattered that you'll cry out to Satan to take you to Hell, if only for a little relief. Do you understand me?
Percy's red microphone light switches off. Alpine smirks.
Brent Alpine: Aww Percy, my lovable dingo. You're obviously having a bad day. Dallas, go fill up his trough. I think the little fella is hungry.
Culture awakes from his meditative state and walks off into another room. Alpine and Esther exchange awkward glances. They appear to have totally forgotten that Hank Brown is in their company.
Hank Brown: OK, maybe it's best I complete this interview another time.
He collects his notes, slides them into his briefcase and heads out. Alpine and Esther sit in silence and Percy Micro's mic is still off. Suddenly, Dallas Culture returns with a black envelope in his hand.
Dallas Culture: We've just had some mail come through the door.
He opens it. Inside is a small slip of black card with a written message.
Dallas Culture: OOH A PARTY! We've been invited to The Masquerade Ball... tonight. How wonderful! I get good vibes about this.
Brent Alpine: Sounds bonza. There's no such thing as a party without The Shine! Who invited us?
Dallas Culture: It doesn't say. It looks gothic and gloriously decadent, I must say.
Alpine studies the black letter, intrigued.
Brent Alpine and his Earth Moon Son pastoral team peer up at an eerily impressive building. It is a behemoth structure of sandstone brick with an archway that is flanked by two vast pillars and holds a mysterious stairway that leads down to the an underground area out of sight. At the top of the archway, is a glowing bulb that looks like an eye. It illuminates another symbol to its left, which appears to be a square and set of compasses with a 'G' in the middle. Esther quivers and starts to turn back.
Brent Alpine: Is this the right address? Doesn't look like a party. Esther, is this your weird attempt to get us to come to church again?
Esther: No, this is a masonic temple. We have to go back. There's a lot of darkness in there.
Dallas Culture: Ah the Freemasons! I have some Freemason friends. Dear blessed men. I'm drawn to them because they know the truth of the Universe. They know that God is who we make him... or her. They perform rituals designed to raise their level of consciousness. They're really quite enlightened people. And boy do they know how to throw a party!
Esther: Look, they might want you to think it's just a gentlemen's club with a few harmless ceremonies but, honestly, it's totally demonic. They hook people in with women and power and the promise that they'll have each other's backs. If you get a parking ticket, it's taken care of. If a neighbour is being too loud, they are 'spoken to'. If someone plans to build a nightclub by your home, the planning application is rejected. That is simply how they lure men further up the pyramid. From there, it gets darker and darker. At the top level, we're talking sacrificing babies, Satanic worship, murder...
Her voice cracks and she starts to shake.
Esther: We can't go in here. These parties tend to be where the more sinister Masons congregate. There's all sorts of powers and principalities of evil in this place. I can sense it in my spirit. We need to leave NOW!
Percy Micro: Silence, Esther! Shut up with your Christian fairy tales and paranoia. We are going to this party and, as his nurse, you are contractually bound to accompany Mr. Alpine at this time.
Esther: I've already exceeded my contracted hours this week. Anyway, you were calling for me to resign earlier!
Brent Alpine: Come on Percy, if she wants to go home, she's free to go home. This ain't a flaming dictatorship mate.
Esther: Thank you Brent. But please, I urge you not to go in. It might look enticing and exhilarating in that party but it's rotten to the core. Anyway Percy, weren't you telling Brent to take his WCF career more seriously? How will this party help him prepare for Neforian this Sunday?
Percy Micro: I know best. He is going to the party and that's final.
Alpine shrugs as he, Dallas and Percy disappear through the entrance and up the stairs. Esther starts to leave but looks back over her shoulder.
Esther: Lord, protect us all.
Anxiously, she follows them inside.
We follow the group down a dark staircase that spirals before reaching a flat area. As we get further down, we see a faintly lit stoned surface with a door guarded by a silhouetted figure. The closer we get, the more the figure is revealed. It is a shapely woman standing proudly in lacy black underwear, stockings and suspenders. Her figure is flawless and Alpine's darting eyes can hardly take in her beauty. Her hair is a brilliant, mesmerising blonde but her face is concealed by a golden mask fashioned into a waterfall shape with teardrops from the eyes. She speaks from her unconcealed, pouty rouge lips.
Masked Woman: Welcome. You must be our special guests. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. My name is Rusalka. I would be honoured to permit your entrance but I ask you first to adorn yourself with these precious garments. In this place, we are not the identities that we hold throughout the rest of our lives. We are children of mystery, so beautifully vulnerable but so luxuriously sacred. The masks allow us to truly submit to our desires in liberty.
Esther: I am not wearing anything you give me!
Rusalka: Are you certain?
She holds up a beautiful red silk negligee in front of Esther. Alpine and Culture's eyes bulge in imagination. Brent offers a wolf whistle as Esther blushes redder than the negligee.
Esther: You keep it. I'll go in just as I am.
Rusalka: Very well, you are free here. Just as you are free to worship Jesus here.
Esther: How do you know I'm a Christian?
Rusalka: I can see it in your aura. You bear the imprint of Yeshua. We have other followers of Yeshua here. You need not worry, my cherub. As for you gentlemen and you... err, pig sir, please change into your attire before you enter the party. There's a changing room through the corridor beyond this door.
Rusalka bends over provocatively to reach into a large black sack and pulls out two men's suits, three masks and a small suit that would seem to fit a pig. As Alpine takes his clothing, she seductively leans in to him and whispers sweetly into his ear. Her words are audible.
Rusalka: Tonight is about exploring your wildest desires. Dreams will come true. Nothing is off limits for you. Not even me.
She presses her awe inspiring body into Alpine and parts her legs next to his. He moves away, looking sheepishly at Esther.
Brent Alpine: Maybe later. It's time for me to start this party!
He heads for the door. Rusalka smiles at Esther and winks at her. As Esther follows the rest of her posse, Rusalka stops her by the door and brushes up to her in the same way she did to Alpine. Esther holds her off but this doesn't stop Rusalka whispering in her ear.
Rusalka: I know you're not the good girl you present yourself as. Inside you is a roaring flame of desire and it will only grow. You want him, don't you? You can have him. Inside you. Filling you up and ravaging you with furious passion. If you don't let this fire be quenched, it will only burn away at you more and more. If you don't let him fuck you like you know he wants to, I will be more than happy to let him explode inside of me.
Esther: You don't even know him. I've been on the road with him for months now and he's not that kind of guy.
Rusalka: All guys are that kind of guy and you know it. How do you know it? Because you're that kind of girl.
With this, Rusalka sensually prods her lubricated tongue into Esther's dainty earlobe. Esther quivers submissively before pushing her away and proceeding inside. Rusalka laughs mischievously.
The party is in full swing. It is a mesmeric sight of gothic architecture, chequered flooring and, most strikingly, a collection of nubile, scantily clad bodies - both male and female.
Half the attendees are in formal, dinner attire while the other half are in underwear or even naked. A brief look around uncovers several unusual sights. A suited businessman is behind a nubile young woman, ramming her powerfully into the marble floor. Her alarmingly guttural moans are calmed by occasional commands of 'harder'. An older gentlemen is receiving what appears to be oral sex from a young Indian man. A group of women, both clothed and in a state of undress, are kissing and groping each other while a man sniffs cocaine from a thong covered backside. Other people are drinking, smoking and generally engaged in all sorts of debauchery imaginable. And some unimaginable.
Alpine is merely surveying the scene in bewilderment.
As we pan around, we see Dallas Culture underneath a bevvy of beauties. He is licking their bare feet as they tread all over and around him. He appears to be hypnotised by the experience.
Percy Micro, in a small black suit, is eating out of a large bowl. Closer inspection reveals that he is eating a mixture of bacon and sausages, his own kind. A nearby man appears to be playing with himself at the sight.
Esther, dressed in a demure t-shirt and baggy jeans, is in tears on the floor. She is bowing down in prayer.
Esther: Who so ever dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. Father, I need your protection here. Please bring light to this place and show them their sin.
A young man with an Adonis physique approaches her. He is wearing thin gold trunks which hide an ample package. He positions it towards her face as she remains kneeled.
Buff Man: You seem hungry. Would you like something to put in your mouth?
Esther gets up and slaps him round the face.
Esther: Does your mother know you're here?
The man gropes her breasts. Suddenly, Brent Alpine comes out of nowhere and punches the man to the floor.
Brent Alpine: Keep your fucking hands to yourself!
Esther continues to weep and hugs Brent.
Esther: I want to leave.
Alpine clasps her hand and leads her back towards the entrance. As he reaches the door, someone behind it slams it open into his face. This knocks Alpine to the ground, unconscious. Rusalka emerges, along with a large cloaked figure. The shady individual carries him through to the other end of the large room, at Rusalka's instruction. Esther is screaming.
Esther: He's been in there for twenty minutes now and I don't know what they're doing with him. I tried to get into that room but it's locked. No one's telling me what's going on.
We are now outside and Dallas Culture has a comforting arm around a distraught Esther. Her tears fall on his crisp white shit. Percy Micro is sitting still next to them, almost traumatised.
Dallas Culture: There's not much we can do. We have to honour their ceremonies. These men will kill us if their rituals are not honoured. Brent is part of something bigger.
Esther: I thought you said this was basically just a Gentlemen's Club?
Dallas Culture: They are Gentlemen but they hold their covenants dear and protect them viciously. By entering that party, we made a covenant with them that we must obey. Tonight, we enjoyed the benefits but good things do not come free. If they want Brent for something, then that's the price we pay.
Esther: Hang on, let me get this straight. You think that, because you licked a few toes, it gives them the right to take Brent for whatever purposes they wish to fulfil? And what about me and Brent, we had no 'benefits'. We were too disgusted to get involved. Anyway, what are they going to do with him? They won't... sacrifice him?... can they?
Dallas Culture: Of course they won't. I don't think.
Esther: We need to do something.
Dallas Culture: We can't. It's not safe.
Esther: Can't we call the police?
Dallas Culture: These people ARE the police!
Esther collapses into a heap on the floor, her head in her hands.
Esther: I can't believe this. Those people are savages. They indulge in evil and wickedness. They fed Percy pork which says it all. They're so gluttonous and debaucherous that they are eating themselves! And now they've taken Brent from us!
Dallas Culture: He'll be OK. Just... pray or something.
We are now in a grand ceremonial room of gold, silver, jewels and blood red curtain. Decorative figures that depict a variety of depraved symbols are all over the walls. Brent Alpine is tied to an elevated stone slab. A tall cloaked figure in deep red garbs stands over Alpine. He is holding a knife. Below the altar, Rusalka and the man in the black cloak who carried Alpine in are kneeling in reverence to the 'high priest' who has The Shine captive.
High Priest: Wake up, Mr. Alpine!
The priest holds his knife to Brent's forehead and carves a slight mark. He rubs his finger through the tiny pool of blood that emerges. Alpine comes back to consciousness.
High Priest: I will keep this simple and brief. I am the man known as Percy Macro. The man behind the pig, if you will. As my employee explained, I have an investment in you and I do not like my investments to come up void. YOU WILL YIELD TO ME!
Brent Alpine: What are you going to do? Kill me?
High Priest: Worse. I will tell the world what you did in Cairns.
Alpine recoils in sheer horror.
Brent Alpine: Err how... how... do you know about... err, Cairns?
High Priest: I know everything about you. I also know everything about Esther. She isn't the woman you think.
Brent Alpine: OK. What do I need to do for you?
High Priest: For a start, you can verbally and physically destroy Henry 'Neforian' Spearman. No mercy, no grace. Then, I want you to fire Esther.
Alpine sighs agonisingly.
Brent Alpine: Consider it so.
Esther and Dallas are still sat outside by the temple entrance. They look despondent. At that moment, Brent Alpine runs out.
Brent Alpine: Let's run.
TWO DAYS LATER
We are back in Brent Alpine's luxurious apartment. The mood this time is more tense and serious. Hank Brown starts his questioning again.
Hank Brown: Thanks Brent for rescheduling. So with Blast this evening, how are y...
He is interrupted. Alpine appears to be reading from something.
Brent Alpine: Shut up, Hank.
I have a message for Henry 'Neforian' Spearman.
Henry, I've seen your life play out on our screens. You want to elicit sympathy. Aren't you an outcast? Oh poor clef pallet FUCK. The bitches and jocks didn't like you because you're so different and special. WAA WAA WAA. I don't give a shit. The people are starting to want the best for you. They want to see justice done. You appeal to the loser in all of them. Well, I have news for you. I am not a loser.
Remember Tyler O'Connell, the bully quarterback who spat in your burger? Remember April Hightower, the school queen bee who made you feel like a cuckold? Remember Tim, supposed friend who stole April away from you and made you feel so small?
Well, I have news for you. Tyler is now a balding slob in an unhappy marriage with a mundane job. April got fat and bangs drug addicts for a living. Tim's dead. Yep, justice is served...
But oh no it isn't because I'll bring you more disgrace than all of those losers combined. And you know what the difference is? I will not decline like they did. Kids are cruel but they grow up and conform to loserdom. I have never been there. I have always SHINED and will forevermore. You are the bottom of the social totem poll, Henry.
You believe in righteous retribution but you also talk about people letting out their caged animal and surrendering to the darkness? What a deluded peon. Can you not see the contradiction? I think you're confused. The only caged animal you are letting out is a maggot!
You preach on darkness because you'll never know anything different. For I am the light, the effervescent glow of excellence.
And now...
Alpine's eyes strain at the piece of paper from which he is reciting.
Brent Alpine: Percy, I can't say this.
Percy Micro: Cairns, Mr. Alpine.
Alpine sighs and almost appears in tears. He looks into the camera with compassion in his eyes.
Brent Alpine: I'm sorry, Henry.
He consults his script again, trembling.
Brent Alpine: And as for your... mother. That's right, I'm going THERE.
You say you want to make your mother proud. You want to do what's right by her memory. Well guess what...?
He fights back tears.
Brent Alpine: Maggie Spearman can't see you from Hell. She's making your favourite treat, eggo waffle and syrup for Hitler. While sucking off Stalin.
Esther: BRENT! What's going on? Why are you saying these things?
In deep shame, Brent looks at Esther and nervously looks towards Percy Micro.
Percy Micro: Do your job, Mr. Alpine.
Brent Alpine: Esther, I'm afraid our working relationship isn't working out. Pack your things and go.
Fade to black.
