Looks like were in for nasty weather

[Raven]

The light had faded, once more releasing the swarming town of Las Vegas to the night. As the true proprietors of this seedy cesspit emerged from its dark corners, an unnatural glow pulsed from its heart, drawing them like a moths to a flame. Its spirit unflinching in the face of the impending thunderstorm, tonight would be business as usual despite the downpour.

We join an EBWF camera crew somewhere off the I-15, battling the elements to set up inside the car park of a nearby apartment block. The film begins rolling on Raven, stood in the door way of a bottom floor room lit occasionally by a flickering Tv. Dressed in a black sleeveless Fiend Club t-shirt, cut off jean shorts and black boots, he swigs from a bottle masked by a brown paper bag.

“Even in this turmoil we find peace [gesturing out with his arms], some cling to objects, money and clothes, in truth it’s all just a distraction. It’s all a part of the same game we play day in day out, a competition created by a capitalist state edging us to a supposed personal wealth. The biggest house, the fastest car, a clique of friends and the perfect spouse. All of these things matter not, yet we strive to fill this emptiness with hollow artefacts. It isn’t until we enter the storm, that we realize we’ve sweated the irrelevant all along.”

Raven places the bottle down at his feet, ties his hair back and paces out of the doorway towards the camera. He smiles slightly as the driving rain hammers down on him, its cold touch a welcome sensation in contrast to the heat of the morning.

“I’ve let go …. Of my inhibitions…. Of my empathy…. Of my self-doubts, I was a broken man until this point. I now realize that it was the very things I strived for that were holding me back. I crave nothing, no distraction, only maintaining focus on my destiny - to become a champion once again. So it is written, so it will come to pass. None shall obstruct me.”

Turning his back on the camera Raven walks off and picks up the bottle. The storm now picking up slightly as another rumble is heard, shortly accompanied by lightning.

“This week I have the pleasure of meeting Havoc, a man I know little to nothing about. Nothing more than a meagre step on my way to fulfilment, I look forward to seeing that defeated look in your eyes. The same one from last week as the Baron blew past you with ease – I was convinced there had been a mix up with the diva roster for a moment there. You know, I do recall something about a red crayon, some writing on a jacket maybe? How about we ask Bailey if she’s be willing to spruce it up with a little glitter for you?”

Holding the bottle in both hands for a moment raven looks up at the camera, a momentary seriousness passing across his face.

“Let me make this real simple for you, in a way even you can understand.”

“Quote the Raven….”

He pulls the bottle back, and in one swift motion releases it. The camera follows it, smashing against a wall on the far side of the car park. As the camera pans up from the bottle, we see a billboard looming over the I-15 advertising the EBWF. One half of the poster has been replaced with a picture of Havoc, spray painted over his face in red…

Nevermore…