Death wasn’t so bad, I mean once you got used to it. The occasional jabs in the ass by a demon and the heat, it’s kinda like being in Miami with a really bad S&M prostitute. But death couldn’t hold me back, not even hell could hold me back, from coming up here to tell you a little tale. It’s a funny ole world ain’t it when you picture the circumstances that people meet…or don’t meet in this case. Take me for example. I slit people’s throats for a living, relieving them of whatever cash I find on their person. That was my 9-5 though, my real bread and butter was working over drunk guys and gals outside of bars. Ya see a drunk person is never alone; they travel in packs of stupid intoxicated people much like themselves. It was always an east snatch and grab or a casual pick of the pocket. But not last night, lord knows last night was the last time I got to do what I love. It was because of him…the bastard was supposed to be dead; everyone has been saying he died. He up and plummeted off the top story of the Hancock…people lied to me cause that freak was three inches from my face and had a 5 inch blade…you do the math…hell I’ll do it for you, two inches of that blade were in my gut and I felt that nice warm sensation like you just pissed you pants. Then came the screaming from the drunkards and after that all I can remember is getting really cold and losing focus. The world slid to black and I woke up here with Bruno the demon tridenting my backside.
He’s back I tell ya…he’s back and he isn’t afraid to kill you…warn them, tell them all he isn’t dead…just really pissed off.
- From the new vengance flick...yeah it hints a little at it doesn't it -
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