The End

[JLevinson]

(FADEIN to the nightlife, if there is such a thing, of Hartford, Connecticut. A long line of freaks and goths stretches out in front of a nightclub that has only a single anarchy symbol for a name. An enormous bouncer stands at the door, his arms crossed...

... the roar of an engine suddenly fills the street as a motorcycle screams down the road. None other than Anarky sits on the motorcycle, which slows to a stop in front of the club. He is noticeably missing his facepaint or wrestling garb. He dismounts and walks to the door, where the bouncer immediately lets him in.

CUTTO: The back office of the club. A young, gorgeous secretary sits at a desk, looking disinterestedly at a computer until Anarky walks in. She immediately perks up.)

ANARKY: "Any word from the esteemed Mr. Malec?"

SECRETARY: "None whatsoever."

ANARKY: "<BLEEP>ing perfect."

(He sighs and pulls out a Marlboro and a white lighter. He lights it up and takes a long drag, looking back to the inhabitants of the club. He shakes his head and begins to walk into the door behind the secretary's desk.)

SECRETARY: "Uhm, Mr. Anarky?"

ANARKY: "What."

SECRETARY: "The secretary for GLCW did call, though. Said she had a message from Maelstrom."

(For a moment, he smiles... and just as quickly, it disappears... )

SECRETARY: "He says he'll see you around."

(He bursts out laughing, unable to control himself. After a few moments, he takes another drag and smiles... )

ANARKY: "Not in this lifetime... "

(He walks into the dark office and closes the door quietly. After a few moments, the secretary's intercom beeps, and she pushes the button to receive the call.)

ANARKY: "Jillian?"

SECRETARY: "Yes, sir?"

ANARKY: "Get Mr. Miller on the phone."

SECRETARY: "Right away, sir."

(FADEOUT.)