Martin Karloff- Slam. Crunch. Scream.

We are once again in the beautiful second home he shares with his lovely wife who is still recuperating upstairs. This is one of the first times he has been away from her side since her match with Johnny Maverick.

“In pursuit of greatness I have broken every single one of my fingers.” Martin says. We find him sitting at a piano and with a simple squeezing motion we hear the bones in his hands crack and adjust before he begins playing a melody that is at once beautiful, intricate, and haunting. He is clearly a very skilled pianist.

“I know I’ve told this story before but it bears repeating since none of you took an opportunity to learn the lesson the first time I taught it to you,. The issue has become less ‘I have no mouth and I must scream’ and more ‘I have a mouth that speaks softly and I am surrounded by constantly shouting idiots.’” Martin says with a sigh.

“You see I was taught by a very strict piano teacher. He was so strict that if any of his students were to make a mistake he would have his best students slam the fall board on their fingers. That piece of wood that folds up and covers the keys? That’s the fall board.” Martin says. He stops playing for a moment and places a carrot on the piano keys, slamming the fall board down hard and easily breaking the carrot. He opens the fall board once more and quickly cleans up the mess.

“Imagine that carrot was the bones in a childs hand. An awful thought isn’t it?” Martin asks, raising an eyebrow. He begins to play again, just as beautiful as ever.

“Intent is a funny thing though. You see, this attitude created many good pianists out of fear of the fall board claiming their hand but for one student? Becoming the best pianist became less about the preservation of his hand and more about being the prize student who got to do the slamming. They thought young Martin was just so dedicated to the craft of music… little did they know why he truly stayed up all night to learn his arpeggios. He learned to appreciate the sweet music he was capable of making. Developed an appreciation for the arts but before that….the sweetest sounds to him were a thud, a crunch, and a scream.” Martin says, smiling as he relived the memories of his youth.

“I am always watching you all. Always trying to figure out what makes you tick. I seek out your flaws and I store them all away….not for a rainy day… but for a very specific day. The day your hands are on the keys. Slam. Crunch. Scream.” Martin says, punctuating those last three words with three forceful dissonant presses of the piano keys.

“Alex…oh most people will say he has a ‘never-say-die’ attitude but do you know a secret about people with that attitude? They die all the time. A lot more frequently than people with ‘Say-Die-on-occasion’ attitudes or those with just a general understanding of human mortality when they realize they can pick up the slack of not being a human crash test dummy by being skilled and intelligent. I have no need of your pats on the back, Alex. You offered the same worthless praise to Johnathan when he proved himself your better. One does not care to hear the opinions of a prostitute of one’s prowess. Your job in this instance is to lay back and take it." Martin says, a bit more vulgar than his usual patter but very much in keeping with his established philosophy.

“After that undeserving idiot Johnathan won the NGW Championship just after what he did to my loving and caring wife it has become more imperative than ever that I win this tournament and move on to face him for the Championship. I must break that man. I must break his body so he is forced to be alone with his mind to realize just how terrible of an individual he truly is. I will leave him a vegetable if I have to and if that happens I will spare no expense to keep him alive so he is forced to relive every mistake in his life that lead him to being in the ring with me.” Martin says with more than touch of venom in his voice, the music becoming a bit more intense as he speaks. He seems to come to his senses as he speaks and the music returns to it’s hauntingly beautiful melody.

“You wish to tell me of your Sermon, Alex? That’s…adorable. My apologies that I feel like you have no true gospel to impart upon me. I have so much to teach all of you but I was warned by Father that there would be resistance to the spread of his teachings. No man ever became great without presenting a challenging idea or two. I’ve watched them work your injuries that you never seem to let fully recover. Is this praise you seem to shower upon me about how you truly understand me. Perhaps you truly extended your hand to me in friendship. A gesture I appreciate to some degree but… My focus must remain on the path. I do wish I had the time to dally along the path and maybe one day I will return that hand but currently… you are an obstacle… and I have done my studying. And now? It is your turn to sit at the keyboard, Alex.” Martin says He suddenly stops playing and with a loud thud he slams the fall board shut once more.

“Perhaps this time you will learn….but even if you don’t I am going to enjoy eaching you. This is MY Sermon, Alex. You’ll not that mine actually has meaning and a lesson.” Martin says. He takes another of the carrots and takes a bite of it, smiling as he chews.