The Great Escape (Michael Storm/End of Days: Witching Hour)
Oct 7, 2018 16:51:03 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 1 more like this
Post by ForeverKuroi on Oct 7, 2018 16:51:03 GMT -5
The scene fades from black, with the translucent and see-through Michael Storm hovering over his body in the hospital. He looks down at his body with a bit of curiosity.
Storm: Y'know. It's odd seeing myself like this. I know that I'm basically a vegetable. I know I'm on the waiting list to the pearly gates, just waiting for my number to be called. But just looking at myself. My breathing steady. My eyes closed. It's just like... It's the first time in my life that I feel that I've ever been at peace.
Michael Storm pauses and slowly nods to the beeping of the hospital room around him. His eyes glance around. There's a light chatter paving its way in from the hallway outside and the television inside is set on the XHF Network television station, replaying End of Days Prelude: Shipwrecked. The XHF Network - even on the brink of death, where most people would worry if they're going to live or not, Storm is thinking more about the End of Days tournament. It's the first real exciting time, despite the peacefulness. From the last interruption with Randy Angel the other month and with Jack Diamond, the two have been banned. Thank god. Storm could have been killed. But on the other hand, it seemed like if he died, it would have at least been progress. If he died, he'd at least move forward. With a little luck, he would have gotten into heaven.
Storm: Sometimes I wonder what this all is. Am I alive? Or dead? Am I overthinking what this all really is? For all I know, I'm perfectly healthy and perfectly fine. This could be a crazy dream and I'm waking up to compete another match at the Ascension Wrestling Federation. Maybe my hatred for Randy Angel is just manifesting itself into some crazy tournament. All I know is-
And that's when some chatter on the television stops Storm from finishing his thought.
Storm: Someone else is going to step up to the plate? Taking on Death Trap, Nelly Angel and Curtis Kanyon? I mean, they're calling these people legends so they must be coming from the original XHF, before it came a network. My guess is Steve Awesome?
Storm: I remember that. He was cocky, perhaps to a fault. But obviously he had the skill to back it up. I remember seeing him at the XHF Rumble earlier this y-
Storm: Well it seems Kris Quake sure does have his hands f-
...
Storm: I'm sorry. Fucking WHAT? Who the hell thought it was a good idea to put me in this match when I can't even-
That's when a body rushes into the room. A nurse is right behind him.
Nurse: Like I said, you're not allowed anywhere near this man!
Randy: Look! I know you have a very important job keeping my dawg Storm alive, but you can't help him anymore!
Nurse: I've told you this before and I'll say it again. The patient is already in great care! We are taking care of Mr. Michael [REDACTED]. Now leave before we call security!
Randy: SEE!? That's not his last name! His name is Mikey Storm, and you don't know what's good for him! Want to know what's in his blood!? It's not plasma, red and white blood cells, and platelets! It's WRESTLING! This is what he needs!
Security rushes in, and Randy looks around.
Security: Let go of the patient!
Randy: They've certainly got us surrounded. It's a good thing I thought this through.
Randy Angel opens the window and looks down. He shoves his head out.
Randy: ARE YOU READY?
The camera zooms in on the man he's talking to. Michael Storm's old friend, Michael Clarke Duncan.
MCD (From afar): I'z ready!
Michael Storm's eyes open wide. He's up in Randy's face.
Storm: Are you FUCKING kidding me? Get the fuck out of this room! Do NOT throw me out that window!
But Randy did, right before he got restrained by security. Luckily, Michael Clarke Duncan catches him. He shoves him into the back seat of his car and drives off. Meanwhile, Storm is inside of the vehicle with Michael Clarke Duncan. He's actually in the backseats, right by his body.
Storm: I honestly have so many questions right now. What possessed Randy Angel to pull this bullshit, how he got MCD to follow along and... HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET YOUR HANDS ON MY CAR!?
MCD Stormy really has some gud taste in cars. I'm so glad he put me in his will.
Michael Clarke Duncan looks fondly down on a sheet of lined notebook paper with crayon all over it writing the following:
Storm: First off, that's not a real will. I've never written a will. Secondly, there's no attorney that reviewed it, nor would they. Finally, a court didn't push this through. I know this because I'M NOT FUCKING DEAD! Even if I did write a will, there is no way I'd ever give anything to you. I'd not give anything to anyone who isn't my family or Erin, who's basically family to me.
Michael Storm begins to ponder the events of the train wreck that just occurred within the last few minutes.
Storm: So the entire reason I've entered this wrestling match is because they think I miss it? I do miss wrestling. I love it, obviously more than life itself. And I know if I got in the ring again, I'd do great once I get back in the groove. Hell, I beat Jack Diamond for the belt. I beat someone who was able to win the belt back after I was forced to vacate it. I would have loved to go against Jack Diamond again. Hell. Maybe one day I will, but I can't say that I will for sure. Especially since... Since..
Michael Storm is nearly in a trance as he looks to Michael Clarke Duncan in the driver's seat. He's looking down and playing on his phone. He's playing Pokemon Go.
Storm: HEY, DUMBASS. I'M IN THE BACKSEAT. TREAT MY BODY WITH SOME RESPECT AND PUT THE PHONE DOWN!
Storm forces himself steady and calm as MCD finally began to put his phone away. Storm tries to remember where he left off.
Storm: But that body - that's not me. When my body is in the ring, I can't do squat. I can't throw a punch, lock in a hold or defend myself. I'm literally just lying there and... hoping someone heavy enough is able to slam down on the mat so hard that I comically bounce and land on someone to go in for a pin? Maybe I shit myself and someone thinks it smells so bad that they begin tapping out to me? Otherwise, I see no real way that I stand a chance. I won't be getting enjoyment out of it, even if hell freezes and I somehow win. I have to remember that I'm not just going up against Joe Schmoe, who just graduated from the local wrestling academy. I'm going against seasoned veterans.
Michael Storm begins to think of the first wrestler in the match that comes to mind.
Storm: Like Kris Quake. He's at the top of his class when it comes to wrestling ability, but not sanity. He went around, calling himself 'The Game' and acting like some big hotshot. He thought of himself as someone he wasn't. Now big wrestling ability mixed with mediocre mental stability is not a great combination. Not for me. Not for someone who has no way to defend themselves. I've seen him wrestle and I don't even know how well I could do if I could defend myself. But now that defending myself isn't even an option, I don't even think I even have a prayer.
Storm looks up at Michael Clarke Duncan through the rear view mirror. He revolts in disgust because of his dumb guy smile.
Storm: And looking at the people who would answer my prayers, I doubt prayers would do me any good. I mean, they sent Randy Angel of all people. If there's anyone I hate in life, Randy Angel would, with very little doubt, top the list. The only thing I want in life is for him to never go near me again. And I'm still alive, damn it. I'm still alive!
Storm leans his head down and sighs.
Storm: But in this match, my body is going up against his brother, Nelly Angel. And as far as I'm concerned, it's the only useful Angel. Makes me wonder when Mr. and Mrs. Angel were producing little angels that all the useful sperm was in that first blast. Or maybe Randy took a different turn that Nelly. Perhaps Randy was invited to a party that Nelly wasn't, got introduced to beer and maybe even some drugs too. And then while Nelly was on the straight and narrow, Randy just went downhill, trying to chase that first high. I mean, I like Nelly. I would have never gone out for a beer with him because of his connections, but he's an alright kid. I remember him as a skilled wrestler, even since the days of the original XHF. He's able to execute a hold correctly. He's able to perform some pretty exciting high-flying moves and even a few submissions on the fairly odd circumstances when he used those, but he could grow. I seem to remember him as pretty nervous guy. During the days of the original XHF, despite him being considered a fully-trained wrestler, he would stick to being on the microphone, interviewing people who didn't give two squats about him. People would intimidate him, heckle him and even when he performs in the ring, he doesn't have all the confidence in the world. Unfortunately for him, I haven't seen much from him lately wrestling-wise, so I'm hoping that people will take advantage of his ring rust. Hopefully people will just forget about me.
Michael Storm looks back up to Michael Clarke Duncan who grabs something from the passenger seat. Storm raises an eyebrow. He finds that Duncan has grabbed a bowl of cereal. As he brings it to him, he keeps spilling some of the milk.
Storm: MCD, you have GOT to be killing me! You're getting milk ALL over the leather! You are quite possibly one of the most irresponsible people I have EVER met!
Duncan looks up and happily drives while shoveling Wheaties into his mouth.
Storm: Talk about mentally deficient. Which brings me to Death Trap. He's absolutely skilled. Former XHF Champion. Former X*Crown Champion. To call him great would be an understatement. Unfortunately, it would also be considered out of date. I know Death Trap well enough to know that the Death Trap we know now is not the same one to grace the Xtreme Hardcore Federation with this new age of Trap. I remember seeing the television while in the hospital. I saw Global Domination. I saw this weird Jeffrey Viper guy and how Death Trap barely squeezed out a win. I'm not sure what's happened in the last ten years, but I'm a bit embarrassed. The Death Trap I knew wouldn't have tolerated ten seconds of Viper's antics, but they were hanging out with each other like they were best buddies. Now I know Death Trap can kick the crap out of me, the empty body that I currently am on Earth, but this isn't something that I feel would be the biggest threat that we're currently facing here. No, it's someone else. Someone I know very well. Someone who I know I even fear in this match.
The camera zooms to the transparent Michael Storm.
Storm: And his name is Curtis Kan-
Suddenly, the car swerves. Obvious, Michael Clarke Duncan hasn't spent too much of his concentration on the road as he nearly collided with someone else.
MCD Uh, oh! Spaghettios!
With that, Duncan shoves another spoonful of Wheaties down his gullet.
Storm: You're not even eating Spaghettios, you fool!
Michael Storm shakes his head, remembering why he cast him out of his life in the first place.
Storm: But yeah, it's Curtis Kanyon. We've known each other from the original XHF. We've feuded quite a bit, mostly when we were both going for the Hardcore Championship. Then when the XHF Network premiered, so did our matches. Now I know for the recent history, it was me who came out on top. I mean, sure. Curtis Kanyon won the X*Crown Championship at End of Days final night last year. Not me. But I wasn't in that match. We did collide at Supremacy, where none of us won. But I remember getting some good strikes in. I also remember the XHF Rumble back in April, and how I was just short of being the longest-lasting person in XHF history to be in the rumble. I also remember being eliminated and being eliminated because I got ahead of myself and knocked myself out, taking him with me. I also remember eliminating Curtis Kanyon from the main event at Xtraction: Blood Money. Despite being in a medical limbo so to speak, I remember a lot. And it's not too ridiculous for Curtis to look down at someone who can't even put himself into a fetal position, who can't defend himself. And kick the crap out of me. I'm sure Curtis will want to deal some damage. I know I would if I was him. Think about it. This is the only real time he's able to get one up over me. This is the one time that he can claim superiority over me, and so if this is something that can put a smile over his face, considering the downhill turn that his career is heading, he should do it.
MCD Holla atcho' boy!
Michael Storm looks and finds Michael Clarke Duncan turning off the highway and speaking over the phone.
MCD Shit Randyyy, it's me! M-Dizzle! Or M-C-Dizzle! or Micha-... Shit, whatever. Anyways, we'z going to be at the hotel room. Did you'z get the tickets?
Silence.
MCD Yeah. So Stormy's credit card expiration date is October of 2018.
Michael Storm's jaw drops.
Storm: You've got to be kidding me, you piece of sh-
MCD The numbahs on the back be 6-1-9. (THAT'S MAH PUEBLO!)
Storm: WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!? THIS IS CREDIT CARD FRAUD!?
MCD Oh, is that right?
Storm: OF COURSE IT'S R- Wait, you can hear m-
MCD Shit. This card does expire at the end of the month. We should mo' fuggin' party before we can't use this card no mo'! What do yo ass wanna be for Halloween?
Pause.
MCD Damn. Dat's nice. Anyway. I'z stop by the Halloween store so I can get my gift. You get the luggage so we can shove Stormy in there so we can get him in for his match. Stormy ain't gon' miss his match for the world!
Storm: Of course you can't hear my voi- ...IN A LUGGAGE BAG!?
MCD Aight. I hitchu up later.
The camera zooms in on Michael Clarke Duncan's face.
MCD My costume will be SO SICK! I can already imagine it...
A thought bubble pops up stemming from this lovable oaf.
Storm: Guys... Just do me a favor. Please, just kill me.
Michael Storm is not killed. The scene fades to black.
Storm: Y'know. It's odd seeing myself like this. I know that I'm basically a vegetable. I know I'm on the waiting list to the pearly gates, just waiting for my number to be called. But just looking at myself. My breathing steady. My eyes closed. It's just like... It's the first time in my life that I feel that I've ever been at peace.
Michael Storm pauses and slowly nods to the beeping of the hospital room around him. His eyes glance around. There's a light chatter paving its way in from the hallway outside and the television inside is set on the XHF Network television station, replaying End of Days Prelude: Shipwrecked. The XHF Network - even on the brink of death, where most people would worry if they're going to live or not, Storm is thinking more about the End of Days tournament. It's the first real exciting time, despite the peacefulness. From the last interruption with Randy Angel the other month and with Jack Diamond, the two have been banned. Thank god. Storm could have been killed. But on the other hand, it seemed like if he died, it would have at least been progress. If he died, he'd at least move forward. With a little luck, he would have gotten into heaven.
Storm: Sometimes I wonder what this all is. Am I alive? Or dead? Am I overthinking what this all really is? For all I know, I'm perfectly healthy and perfectly fine. This could be a crazy dream and I'm waking up to compete another match at the Ascension Wrestling Federation. Maybe my hatred for Randy Angel is just manifesting itself into some crazy tournament. All I know is-
And that's when some chatter on the television stops Storm from finishing his thought.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new addition to the first match for End of Days Prelude: Witching Hour."
Storm: Someone else is going to step up to the plate? Taking on Death Trap, Nelly Angel and Curtis Kanyon? I mean, they're calling these people legends so they must be coming from the original XHF, before it came a network. My guess is Steve Awesome?
"It'll be Kris Quake! Kris Quake is well known as being one half of the tag team champions along with Dave Holland. He also was the XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion under the name "Triple Quake".
Storm: I remember that. He was cocky, perhaps to a fault. But obviously he had the skill to back it up. I remember seeing him at the XHF Rumble earlier this y-
"He will be joining former XHF Champion Death Trap, former X*Crown Champion President Curtis D. Kanyon, former three-time XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion Nelly Angel and former X*Crown Champion Michael Storm!
Storm: Well it seems Kris Quake sure does have his hands f-
...
Storm: I'm sorry. Fucking WHAT? Who the hell thought it was a good idea to put me in this match when I can't even-
That's when a body rushes into the room. A nurse is right behind him.
Nurse: Like I said, you're not allowed anywhere near this man!
Randy: Look! I know you have a very important job keeping my dawg Storm alive, but you can't help him anymore!
Nurse: I've told you this before and I'll say it again. The patient is already in great care! We are taking care of Mr. Michael [REDACTED]. Now leave before we call security!
Randy: SEE!? That's not his last name! His name is Mikey Storm, and you don't know what's good for him! Want to know what's in his blood!? It's not plasma, red and white blood cells, and platelets! It's WRESTLING! This is what he needs!
Security rushes in, and Randy looks around.
Security: Let go of the patient!
Randy: They've certainly got us surrounded. It's a good thing I thought this through.
Randy Angel opens the window and looks down. He shoves his head out.
Randy: ARE YOU READY?
The camera zooms in on the man he's talking to. Michael Storm's old friend, Michael Clarke Duncan.
MCD (From afar): I'z ready!
Michael Storm's eyes open wide. He's up in Randy's face.
Storm: Are you FUCKING kidding me? Get the fuck out of this room! Do NOT throw me out that window!
But Randy did, right before he got restrained by security. Luckily, Michael Clarke Duncan catches him. He shoves him into the back seat of his car and drives off. Meanwhile, Storm is inside of the vehicle with Michael Clarke Duncan. He's actually in the backseats, right by his body.
Storm: I honestly have so many questions right now. What possessed Randy Angel to pull this bullshit, how he got MCD to follow along and... HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET YOUR HANDS ON MY CAR!?
MCD Stormy really has some gud taste in cars. I'm so glad he put me in his will.
Michael Clarke Duncan looks fondly down on a sheet of lined notebook paper with crayon all over it writing the following:
"WIL:
STORMY SAYS MCD CAN HAVE HIS KARZ"
STORMY SAYS MCD CAN HAVE HIS KARZ"
Storm: First off, that's not a real will. I've never written a will. Secondly, there's no attorney that reviewed it, nor would they. Finally, a court didn't push this through. I know this because I'M NOT FUCKING DEAD! Even if I did write a will, there is no way I'd ever give anything to you. I'd not give anything to anyone who isn't my family or Erin, who's basically family to me.
Michael Storm begins to ponder the events of the train wreck that just occurred within the last few minutes.
Storm: So the entire reason I've entered this wrestling match is because they think I miss it? I do miss wrestling. I love it, obviously more than life itself. And I know if I got in the ring again, I'd do great once I get back in the groove. Hell, I beat Jack Diamond for the belt. I beat someone who was able to win the belt back after I was forced to vacate it. I would have loved to go against Jack Diamond again. Hell. Maybe one day I will, but I can't say that I will for sure. Especially since... Since..
Michael Storm is nearly in a trance as he looks to Michael Clarke Duncan in the driver's seat. He's looking down and playing on his phone. He's playing Pokemon Go.
Storm: HEY, DUMBASS. I'M IN THE BACKSEAT. TREAT MY BODY WITH SOME RESPECT AND PUT THE PHONE DOWN!
Storm forces himself steady and calm as MCD finally began to put his phone away. Storm tries to remember where he left off.
Storm: But that body - that's not me. When my body is in the ring, I can't do squat. I can't throw a punch, lock in a hold or defend myself. I'm literally just lying there and... hoping someone heavy enough is able to slam down on the mat so hard that I comically bounce and land on someone to go in for a pin? Maybe I shit myself and someone thinks it smells so bad that they begin tapping out to me? Otherwise, I see no real way that I stand a chance. I won't be getting enjoyment out of it, even if hell freezes and I somehow win. I have to remember that I'm not just going up against Joe Schmoe, who just graduated from the local wrestling academy. I'm going against seasoned veterans.
Michael Storm begins to think of the first wrestler in the match that comes to mind.
Storm: Like Kris Quake. He's at the top of his class when it comes to wrestling ability, but not sanity. He went around, calling himself 'The Game' and acting like some big hotshot. He thought of himself as someone he wasn't. Now big wrestling ability mixed with mediocre mental stability is not a great combination. Not for me. Not for someone who has no way to defend themselves. I've seen him wrestle and I don't even know how well I could do if I could defend myself. But now that defending myself isn't even an option, I don't even think I even have a prayer.
Storm looks up at Michael Clarke Duncan through the rear view mirror. He revolts in disgust because of his dumb guy smile.
Storm: And looking at the people who would answer my prayers, I doubt prayers would do me any good. I mean, they sent Randy Angel of all people. If there's anyone I hate in life, Randy Angel would, with very little doubt, top the list. The only thing I want in life is for him to never go near me again. And I'm still alive, damn it. I'm still alive!
Storm leans his head down and sighs.
Storm: But in this match, my body is going up against his brother, Nelly Angel. And as far as I'm concerned, it's the only useful Angel. Makes me wonder when Mr. and Mrs. Angel were producing little angels that all the useful sperm was in that first blast. Or maybe Randy took a different turn that Nelly. Perhaps Randy was invited to a party that Nelly wasn't, got introduced to beer and maybe even some drugs too. And then while Nelly was on the straight and narrow, Randy just went downhill, trying to chase that first high. I mean, I like Nelly. I would have never gone out for a beer with him because of his connections, but he's an alright kid. I remember him as a skilled wrestler, even since the days of the original XHF. He's able to execute a hold correctly. He's able to perform some pretty exciting high-flying moves and even a few submissions on the fairly odd circumstances when he used those, but he could grow. I seem to remember him as pretty nervous guy. During the days of the original XHF, despite him being considered a fully-trained wrestler, he would stick to being on the microphone, interviewing people who didn't give two squats about him. People would intimidate him, heckle him and even when he performs in the ring, he doesn't have all the confidence in the world. Unfortunately for him, I haven't seen much from him lately wrestling-wise, so I'm hoping that people will take advantage of his ring rust. Hopefully people will just forget about me.
Michael Storm looks back up to Michael Clarke Duncan who grabs something from the passenger seat. Storm raises an eyebrow. He finds that Duncan has grabbed a bowl of cereal. As he brings it to him, he keeps spilling some of the milk.
Storm: MCD, you have GOT to be killing me! You're getting milk ALL over the leather! You are quite possibly one of the most irresponsible people I have EVER met!
Duncan looks up and happily drives while shoveling Wheaties into his mouth.
Storm: Talk about mentally deficient. Which brings me to Death Trap. He's absolutely skilled. Former XHF Champion. Former X*Crown Champion. To call him great would be an understatement. Unfortunately, it would also be considered out of date. I know Death Trap well enough to know that the Death Trap we know now is not the same one to grace the Xtreme Hardcore Federation with this new age of Trap. I remember seeing the television while in the hospital. I saw Global Domination. I saw this weird Jeffrey Viper guy and how Death Trap barely squeezed out a win. I'm not sure what's happened in the last ten years, but I'm a bit embarrassed. The Death Trap I knew wouldn't have tolerated ten seconds of Viper's antics, but they were hanging out with each other like they were best buddies. Now I know Death Trap can kick the crap out of me, the empty body that I currently am on Earth, but this isn't something that I feel would be the biggest threat that we're currently facing here. No, it's someone else. Someone I know very well. Someone who I know I even fear in this match.
The camera zooms to the transparent Michael Storm.
Storm: And his name is Curtis Kan-
Suddenly, the car swerves. Obvious, Michael Clarke Duncan hasn't spent too much of his concentration on the road as he nearly collided with someone else.
MCD Uh, oh! Spaghettios!
With that, Duncan shoves another spoonful of Wheaties down his gullet.
Storm: You're not even eating Spaghettios, you fool!
Michael Storm shakes his head, remembering why he cast him out of his life in the first place.
Storm: But yeah, it's Curtis Kanyon. We've known each other from the original XHF. We've feuded quite a bit, mostly when we were both going for the Hardcore Championship. Then when the XHF Network premiered, so did our matches. Now I know for the recent history, it was me who came out on top. I mean, sure. Curtis Kanyon won the X*Crown Championship at End of Days final night last year. Not me. But I wasn't in that match. We did collide at Supremacy, where none of us won. But I remember getting some good strikes in. I also remember the XHF Rumble back in April, and how I was just short of being the longest-lasting person in XHF history to be in the rumble. I also remember being eliminated and being eliminated because I got ahead of myself and knocked myself out, taking him with me. I also remember eliminating Curtis Kanyon from the main event at Xtraction: Blood Money. Despite being in a medical limbo so to speak, I remember a lot. And it's not too ridiculous for Curtis to look down at someone who can't even put himself into a fetal position, who can't defend himself. And kick the crap out of me. I'm sure Curtis will want to deal some damage. I know I would if I was him. Think about it. This is the only real time he's able to get one up over me. This is the one time that he can claim superiority over me, and so if this is something that can put a smile over his face, considering the downhill turn that his career is heading, he should do it.
MCD Holla atcho' boy!
Michael Storm looks and finds Michael Clarke Duncan turning off the highway and speaking over the phone.
MCD Shit Randyyy, it's me! M-Dizzle! Or M-C-Dizzle! or Micha-... Shit, whatever. Anyways, we'z going to be at the hotel room. Did you'z get the tickets?
Silence.
MCD Yeah. So Stormy's credit card expiration date is October of 2018.
Michael Storm's jaw drops.
Storm: You've got to be kidding me, you piece of sh-
MCD The numbahs on the back be 6-1-9. (THAT'S MAH PUEBLO!)
Storm: WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!? THIS IS CREDIT CARD FRAUD!?
MCD Oh, is that right?
Storm: OF COURSE IT'S R- Wait, you can hear m-
MCD Shit. This card does expire at the end of the month. We should mo' fuggin' party before we can't use this card no mo'! What do yo ass wanna be for Halloween?
Pause.
MCD Damn. Dat's nice. Anyway. I'z stop by the Halloween store so I can get my gift. You get the luggage so we can shove Stormy in there so we can get him in for his match. Stormy ain't gon' miss his match for the world!
Storm: Of course you can't hear my voi- ...IN A LUGGAGE BAG!?
MCD Aight. I hitchu up later.
The camera zooms in on Michael Clarke Duncan's face.
MCD My costume will be SO SICK! I can already imagine it...
A thought bubble pops up stemming from this lovable oaf.
Storm: Guys... Just do me a favor. Please, just kill me.
Michael Storm is not killed. The scene fades to black.
