State of the Union // Levi Marta

by Austin Sun Jan 31, 2016 1:06 pm

The shot opens up in a candlelit locker room. The flickering light reveals a semi-circle of steel chairs neatly surrounding the CMV Light Heavyweight Championship, itself set upon what appears to be a poorly constructed podium. There's a shuffling from off camera, and suddenly the camera fills with the hulking silhouettes of who can only be the Dirty Republic. Bill Cipher, Marcantel, and Noah McGreggor all sit themselves down next to each other as the room once more fills with silence.

After a few moments, the previously unseen Levi Marta steps out from the shadowy background, coming to a rest at the shoddy podium erected in the middle of the men. As he places his hands on the sides and props himself against it, there's clearly something off with him, the most obvious being the paint smeared across his face and chest. A maniacal grin threatens to tear his mouth as he begins to speak in a hushed tone, forcing the men to lean closer in order to hear what he has to say.

Levi Marta
"I am disappointed in you. I am disappointed in you all."

Marta looks up, his eyes scanning each man right to left and right again.

Marcantel
"W-what do you mean, b--"

The screen becomes blurred as a fist swings and connects with the mouth of Marcantel, cutting him off with a mild grunt. As the camera refocuses, Marta's trembling finger is still outstretched, and Cipher is settling back into his seat. Initially shocked, Marcantel begins to get to his feet before, once more, he's cut off.

Levi Marta
"That wouldn't be very wise of you, Marcy. I suggest you sit down and shut up, darling, before I have to take drastic measures. And that, my friends, goes for all of you."

Defeated, Marcantel plops back down, rage radiating off of him. Levi tilts his head and smiles once more.

Levi Marta
"Good... good. Now. I gathered you here tonight because of just that. I am disappointed in you all. Cipher, Marcantel, McGreggor... you've all let me down in the most tragic of ways. I put my neck out to you, I brought you to CMV and I made you something. And in turn, what have you done for me? You've done... well, you've done nothing. You've carried no weight, furthered no causes, and have been expecting something in return for it. I gave you a place of belonging in return for your loyalty and strength, your adoration and conviction, and you've barely given me even one of those. So what am I do to? What do you suggest, Marcantel?"

Marcantel, still angry from the strike commanded by Marta earlier, sits silently. Marta stares back at him, his pleasant demeanor shifting into one of primordial rage.

Levi Marta
"When I ask you a question, Marcy, you answer me. Now what am I to do?"

Marcantel begins to speak, but is once more cut off, this time from a slap from the hand of Marta himself. Marcantel tries to get to his feet, but is restrained by Cipher and McGreggor and thrown back in the chair. Marta grabs his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks together.

Levi Marta
"I told you to sit down and shut up, you useless lout."

Levi shakes his head and moves back to the podium. As he resumes speaking, he jabs his finger in the general direction of his men.

Levi Marta
"This is exactly what I'm talking about. This blatant disrespect of my command. This will not serve. THIS WILL NOT SERVE. I have led by example. I HAVE LED BY EXAMPLE. WHAT MORE CAN I DO?"

Levi Marta snatches the championship off of the podium and thrusts it out at the men, waving it wildly in front of their faces. He speaks emphatically as he goes on, his voice getting higher by the second.

Levi Marta
"You were brought here to further my goals, but all you've been is another obstacle in my way. As far as this Republic is concerned, you're on your own. My next goal is one I can't afford for you bootless cadgers to screw up."

Shocked, all three men leap to their feet, right as the candle extinguishes. When the lights come on after a few moments, Marta and the CMV Light Heavyweight Championship are gone, and in their place rests a single Polaroid of the Clown-Faced Prince.