I am Nothing
“I am nameless…”
(FADEIN: A close-up shot of a man with a black mask, his emerald eyes peering into the camera lens.)
FACELESS: “...thus, I am nothing. (There is a long pause, but FACELESS’ eyes do not blink) See, I have heard Dean Hobkirk’s comments from last round and I must be something of a puzzle to his mind. A top seed without history. Dean, as you so eloquently put it are … EVERYTHING… and I am nothing more than the monotonous notion of hype presented as a FACELESS mask on your screen.”
(FACELESS smiles)
FACELESS: “But without my face, you have nothing to say that everyone won’t have heard at one point or another. Still, it’s too simple to pull back a curtain of certain irony or illustrate the faulty template of using one’s own ego as a tool of execution or intimidation.”
(The camera peels back and we see the body of FACELESS…he’s wearing black drawstring pants, standing barefoot and otherwise unclothed. FACELESS’ arms are folded across his chest, various Oriental and Native American tattoos paint the heavily scarred surface of his body, a prominent moon and star tattoo between his right index finger and thumb.)
FACELESS: “Seemingly so, I’ll silently let the clues of identity steadily roll into an avalanche for others to see. (FACELESS looks at himself) Revelations of these sights and sounds that are familiar to the inspired observers, subsequently showing how deep history can reach. Simply, these scars brandished and ambushed across my skin…”
(FACELESS holds his arms open to the camera, deep crimson scars lining his inner forearm like a river delta meeting an ocean…)
FACELESS: “…show mine runs deep, but far enough to elude you.”
(FACELESS stares at his arms and then lowers them to a relaxed rest by his side.)
FACELESS: (smiling) “Yet, I stand before you as your number one seed. Without a championship belt draped across my shoulder, without a trophy on display …just a man without a face, without a name, without anything to give as evidence of my pedigree.”
(FACELESS shrugs and looks at his surroundings…)
FACELESS: “I’m not interested in the wheels within the wheels of your mind starting to turn, twist and contort as you try to retort that what you’ve got is more than mine. The pages of my history are meaningless now, just as your past accomplishments are when we meet across the squared circle…a shape I’ve sworn oaths to out of hate and redemption…A sport defined by the weight of one’s title that’s led me through an existential existence of sacrifice and exile.”
(FACELESS looks back at the camera, smiling once more.)
FACELESS: “All that really matters to me is that where we go in that ring will be off the track, off the rails, leaving a pool of OUR blood as a trail. Wild turns that burn the memory of nothing …meeting you Dean-O… (smirk) the EVERTHING. A shooting star legacy anyone can witness for one night and watch how bad we wanted to move down the line… Regardless of your self-perceived greatness OR my blindly believed hype.”
(FACELESS reaches up and starts pulling at the bottom of his mask.)
FACELESS: “Can you believe me, without knowing my identity?”
(FACELESS leaves the mask alone.)
FACELESS: “Years from now, all that we’ll have is the skin of our teeth after being buried six feet deep and lonely. (FACELESS shakes his head disappointedly) Yet right now, all anyone may want is my name…my face… (FACELESS now looks down) Dean-O, you may easily use these very words as gasoline for a self-gratifying exposition on perceived perfections and humorous subjections of my own misery.”
(FACELESS looks up with a straight glare into the camera lens focusing in on him and shows very little signs of emotion as he continues...)
FACELESS: “When my mask slides off to hushed whispers and wishful wonders, you’ll tell me what I don’t have inside. Maybe you’ll say I should be pitied, for I’m just an empty library engulfed by nothingness and a legion of heretical hype.”
(FACELESS briefly grins)
FACELESS: “My life’s been spent amongst outlaws, ramblers, silver-tongued rebels and thieves. You can trash what I say, but you can’t take what I believe.”
(FACELESS reaches up for his mask once more…)
FACELESS: “It’s just light starting to show me, then you starting to know me…but I can tell you that I’m willing to feel the shine.”
(The mask slowly is pulled back over FACELESS’ mouth, revealing an auburn beard.)
FACELESS: “Cause of all of these words that you throw away…”
(As FACELESS pulls of his mask, shoulder-length auburn hair falls like feathers.)
FACELESS: “One just might come right back…”
(FACELESS pulls the mask off and brushes his hair away from his beard and face.)
“And haunt your dying day.”
(For all of three seconds, ”The Wolf” MIKE RANDALLS smiles as his emerald eyes gleam into the camera as it slowly…FADES TO BLACK.)
