Post by jasonresurrection on Jul 25, 2007 17:17:55 GMT -6
We fade in on what can only be described as a very, very odd scene. It's quite reminiscent of what we saw at the end of the last Zombie's Crypt. Jason covered in blood and gore, chowing on a piece of undetermined meat. He seems to not notice the camera on him, as he's gorging himself to the max, eating as much as he can. Flecks of meat stick to his chin, and he wipes them on his arm, then licks it off. After a few moments, he looks up at the camera, smiling uncharacteristically menacingly.
Jason: "GREETINGS, BOILS AND GHOULS! It seems as if we have a bit of a predicament on our hands. There is someone who thinks he's a freak amongst us. A man by the name of Nightkiller, who's getting paddled by a midget whilst wearing bondage gear and a dog collar. Under normal circumstances, I might just pay to see such a thing, but not this time. This time it seems to be just a big disgrace to those of my kind. The creatures of the night. The true freaks who walk amongst us living dead and treat us with respect. Nightkiller and his midget are my new number one target in this match. f**k Graves. f**k Cobra. f**k everyone else. Nightkiller, you opened the wrong box. When Pandora opened her box, all the destruction and drought of the world was released, but there was hope. When you get your box opened, there won't be any hope whatsoever. I'm sure your bruised skin will taste like wine when I rip into it with my teeth. You're mouth will be free to scream after I rip out your stitched with my fingernails.
Jason starts eating some more of the uncooked meat, completely and utterly ravenous. The look of pure hunger in his eyes is unmistakable, and even his horde of zombies won't go anywhere near him. It seems that Mr. Wells has hit a nerve in his undead body, and severely pissed him off. As he slurps down a big slurp of meat, he looks back to the camera.
Jason: "Now you know what's going to happen after Ocean City Slam? No matter what, Nightkiller isn't going to win. It might be me, or Cobra, or Ragnorack, or Graves. But it won't be him. I'll rip apart every single part of you and devour it. Then I'll let my horde of zombies eat Mr. Wells...
The zombies turn around, and start chanting "Braaaains...", apparently very excited at this idea.
Jason: "You want to make me into one of YOUR freaks, you pathetic sack of flesh? I'm my own freak. I'm the people's freak. I belong to no one and everyone. And after the horde gets done with you, I'll let your freaks free, let them live the life they were meant to live. Free of laughter and torment, not having to kneel down and lick the boots of a cruel master. The only boots that will be licked in the future will be the blood of Nightkiller off mine by my own tongue. I'll savor every moment of you...I'm going to f**king eat you alive..."
With that last thing said, he goes back to eating the uncooked flesh, grunting and digging his teeth into it. The horde of zombies watch on with a kind of awe at their leader, letting his mind go like this. The camera's fade out on Jason's blood-drenched face.
Jason: "GREETINGS, BOILS AND GHOULS! It seems as if we have a bit of a predicament on our hands. There is someone who thinks he's a freak amongst us. A man by the name of Nightkiller, who's getting paddled by a midget whilst wearing bondage gear and a dog collar. Under normal circumstances, I might just pay to see such a thing, but not this time. This time it seems to be just a big disgrace to those of my kind. The creatures of the night. The true freaks who walk amongst us living dead and treat us with respect. Nightkiller and his midget are my new number one target in this match. f**k Graves. f**k Cobra. f**k everyone else. Nightkiller, you opened the wrong box. When Pandora opened her box, all the destruction and drought of the world was released, but there was hope. When you get your box opened, there won't be any hope whatsoever. I'm sure your bruised skin will taste like wine when I rip into it with my teeth. You're mouth will be free to scream after I rip out your stitched with my fingernails.
Jason starts eating some more of the uncooked meat, completely and utterly ravenous. The look of pure hunger in his eyes is unmistakable, and even his horde of zombies won't go anywhere near him. It seems that Mr. Wells has hit a nerve in his undead body, and severely pissed him off. As he slurps down a big slurp of meat, he looks back to the camera.
Jason: "Now you know what's going to happen after Ocean City Slam? No matter what, Nightkiller isn't going to win. It might be me, or Cobra, or Ragnorack, or Graves. But it won't be him. I'll rip apart every single part of you and devour it. Then I'll let my horde of zombies eat Mr. Wells...
The zombies turn around, and start chanting "Braaaains...", apparently very excited at this idea.
Jason: "You want to make me into one of YOUR freaks, you pathetic sack of flesh? I'm my own freak. I'm the people's freak. I belong to no one and everyone. And after the horde gets done with you, I'll let your freaks free, let them live the life they were meant to live. Free of laughter and torment, not having to kneel down and lick the boots of a cruel master. The only boots that will be licked in the future will be the blood of Nightkiller off mine by my own tongue. I'll savor every moment of you...I'm going to f**king eat you alive..."
With that last thing said, he goes back to eating the uncooked flesh, grunting and digging his teeth into it. The horde of zombies watch on with a kind of awe at their leader, letting his mind go like this. The camera's fade out on Jason's blood-drenched face.