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I’d been all around Hollywood in the early 10’s. People knew who I was, and they knew what I was about.

All thanks to my Agent.

When I signed on the dotted line with his agency, he put me in prime situation time after time. Every opportunity I could have dreamed of came under his purview.

His stable of misfit actors and I became fast friends. In particular, I remember a guy named Taylor that I really bonded with. Young guy, hungry as fuck.

We had a lot in common.

But it all came crashing down not long after that. My Agent called a meeting of his clients. He let us know that Taylor, of all people, was getting his big break.

A big ass Disney blockbuster.

I was devastated that the role had gone to my friend, but what can you do, right?

Until I found out the truth.

My Agent, the guy who’d brought me into the game, told them to pass on me and go with Taylor.

The fuck?

When I confronted my Agent, he told me he’d been protecting me. I didn’t believe it until Taylor’s big break came out.

Disney’s John Carter.

Remember it? I doubt it. One of the biggest flops of all time. It killed his career.

But I was still pissed. My Agent may not have killed my career, but he killed that of my friends.

Ether. Tag. Did y’all foresee what was going to happen when you signed on the dotted line with Simon all those months ago?

Jet Set Radio came in on top. With Wiz, you guys were likeminded and ready to fuck up anyone who got in your way. So hungry.

You guys were in the mix from the moment you stepped foot in OSW, and every opportunity you could think of came through.

Sure, you had to put up with the Blackharts, but you were together and you were thriving.

Then Wiz was offed.

That was when it crashed down.

Simon told you guys that you had to move on, that who killed Wiz wasn’t important.

Then you found out the truth.

Simon, that cunt, had been the one who personally killed Wiz.

The fuck?

He acted like he was doing you guys a favor, that it was for the best.

He wasn’t.

But I was.

See, when ole Hollywood showed up on the scene, he protected you dick-wads from a giant flop. By taking Simon out of the picture, you guys can clear your head and move on.

No matter how bad you want to get your hands on the Taskmaster, it’s going to be another John Carter situation. Much ado about nothing.

Trust me, kicking Simon’s ass isn’t that hard.

Just like my Agent, who I hated from then on, Luke Storm’s doing you guys a favor. He’s keeping you from losing everything you’ve built up.

Because I’m a nice guy.

It’s time for you to learn the lesson I had to:

Contracts? Friendships? Big Breaks?

It’s all fake.

There’s only one thing that’s real.

The Real Fucking Deal.