Martin Karloff- Eulogy

Martin sips at the contents of a plastic tumbler of green juice as he watches the screen. He is jotting down notes in a notebook as he watches the screen. His mentor and ‘Father’ Daniel Daemon enters and Martin pauses the video and removes his headphones from his ears.

“What is a blowbang and will it make me angrier if I know?” Martin asks before setting the tumbler to the side.

“I don’t know but I am confident you will not like it.” Daniel says as Martin takes out his phone to google it.

“Well?” Daniel asks.

“Yes. Yes, I am furious.” Martin says in an even tone.

“Good.” Daniel says simply.

“Gather the congregation.” Martin says.

“Time for a sermon?” Daniel asks.

“No. A Eulogy.” Martin says. He stands and goes to get dressed.
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Daniel stands at the front of the room. The pews are full of the Nothing. The masked worshippers of Daniel who have surrendered their identity in his glory. The masked congregation stands when Daniel enters.

“Please, my Faceless. Be seated.” Daniel says. The Faceless all take their seats in reverence.

“It is with great honor and humility now that I bring out my son and the first Pastor of our church. Please show the same respect to him that you have shown to me. Please show respect to Reverend Martin Karloff.” Daniel says. Martin emerges from the back and bows respectfully to Daniel as he walks away from the pulpit. Daniel puts a hand on his shoulder before going to the back to observe. Martin takes his position in the pulpit in a sharp black suit and a clerical collar.

“Please bring in the deceased.” Martin says. The doors at the front of the church are opened and six of the Faceless carry in a coffin. They place it on a platform in front of Martins pulpit and open it, revealing a Members Only jacket and a pair of aviator sunglasses.

“Dearly beloved…we are gathered here to today to mourn. Though we may not mourn as much as the vile masturbators of the world and those who sell chest grease… we have chosen today to mourn the upcoming death of Ronald West, better known to the world as Ronnie North; noted pornographer and sub-par professional wrestler. Ronnie lived a life of folly that at one point forced him out of the ring due to a back injury he sustained not in the ring but in fact on the set of one of one of his films. It’s clear his priorities were not heavily focused on the professional wrestling aspect of his career and he was content with being some sort of vile sexual clown. In a tag team with a Jewish Superhero Ronald was considered the ‘Fool’.

“What did you think was going to happen, Ronald? How did you think I was going to feel? You are a very poor decision maker. To openly make a mockery of my wife and I? To portray her laying with a man I hate more than anything?” Martin says calmly.

“Ronald, perhaps you should take in a viewing of The Phantom of The Opera. The hideous man who threatens to murder an entire Opera House full of people for his lady love. I think maybe the comparison you made and didn’t fully understand is more appropriate than you know. Ronald, I am going to massacre you. If I were a fan of hyperbole I would claim that intended to tear your head off of your shoulders and present it to my beautiful Avenging Angel as a trophy. As it stands my more realistic goal involves making certain you are unable to perform the day-to-day work of your other job.” Martin says, there is a pause for emphasis but he considers that perhaps he was being far too subtle in his warning.

“Ronald, I intend to violently destroy your genitals.” Martin adds, hoping that clears everything up regarding his intentions.

“I am confident I can accomplish this task. As fun as it is to imagine there is obviously no way I can actually murder you in the ring no matter how hard I envision it or how relieved I imagine management and the ‘friends’ who tolerate you and your insane and disrespectful antics the same way they show patience with the child in class who doesn’t know not to eat paste no matter how many times he is told. People like Ronald are the reason there are warning labels on chainsaws. It should be common sense to anyone with eyes, ears, or common sense that the loud gasoline powered spinning sawblade is dangerous. Martin is the kind of fellow you can’t leave alone a t the zoo because he’d climb into a dangerous animal enclosure and get to poking with a stick.” Martin says, making a gesture of poking. His congregation chuckles slightly.

“I am not an animal though, Mr. West. I have not been flung into a blind rage by your idiotic actions. You’d have a chance against me if that was the case. No no no no no, Ronald. You are going to be meticulously broken by me. I will plot and scheme and rip and tear until you question every decision that has lead you to this point. Let me summarize for you in a manner you may understand… You’re the one here who is going to be on the receiving end of the money shot.” Martin says, leaning on the pulpit.

“And so we lay Ronald North to rest. He was a ridiculous failure in life but perhaps in death….no. No there is no redemption for him. The only condolence to this clown is that he will finally get a laugh out of me as I look down at his twitching mangled frame. This is not my sermon, Ron. This is retribution. This is inevitability. Eventually you were going to come across the wrong person. The person who didn’t find your antics very funny and had the capability to make you shut your mouth. That’s me, Ronald. This has been your eulogy. You’ll be ensconced in German soil before the end of Dissension. See you soon.” Martin says before stepping forward and kicking over the coffin.