"It's harder to have to walk through every day, die slowly--and from the time you're a child 'til the time you get gray, you're dying."

Filmed from the passenger's seat revealed a behemoth of a man walking down a freezing cold, isolated highway, with nothing but a black wife beater, pants, and boots. There were flashes of the mysterious man becoming a child with similar clothes and hair, walking through the icy darkness that wrapped itself around him. Neither the man nor the child who sporadically took his spot seemed to be struggling with the conditions around them. As the car was beginning to pass the gigantic stranger, the camera cut out to black before it could reveal the man's face.

"Dishonest, and I'm sure that they'll--they'll pay for it. They'll pay for it. This is a revolutionary suicide. This is not a self destructive suicide. So they'll pay for this. They brought this upon us. And they'll pay for that. I leave that destiny to them."

Now the camera had completely switched to collected footage of the most popular superstars in the World Wrestling Federation left in bloody heaps on the mat after long, treacherous battles that they did not succeed in. Their blood was pouring onto the mat as if they were painting a canvas unconsciously. The images of these various wrestlers nearly bleeding out was interrupted by flashes of that same man before, in a black sheep mask, chained to a wall, two around each wrist and ankle to keep the massive monster grounded. He stood in the corner, facing the camera with a blank stare that was perfectly illustrated by the mask he wore.

"He doesn't want to tell them. All he's doing--if they will tell them-- assure these kids. Can't some people assure these children of the relaxation of stepping over to the next plane? They set an example for others. We said --one thousand people who said, we don't like the way the world is."

Now the imagery had changed every second! The collected news videos as of late talking about bank bailouts, the Kardashians, terrorist attacks, and the presidential campaign. They all had one of their videos briefly interrupted by a flash of that man, standing in the same corner, now with that woman from the first vignette chained next to him. She had bruises and welts across her body, duct tape over her lips so her cries couldn't be heard. The big man eventually slid his back down the wall and sat with his arms dangling above him, showing how tight the restraints were.

"Take our life from us. We laid it down. We got tired. We didn't commit suicide, we committed an act of revolutionary suicide protesting the conditions of an inhumane world."

Suddenly he appeared in front of the masked man. His fur coat draped down and was a foot away from hitting the floor. The undone umbrella rested on his left shoulder, and with his right hand, the Shephard put his hand on the back of Apophis's neck, with an evil crooked grin. The shot faded to black after this scenery, and the audio was done playing. Most people thought it was over just as abruptly as the last vignette, until a montonous deep voice was heard in the sound of desperation.

"My shephard."