Your Standards Need Not Apply

The camera opens on Nate Valentine, once again, walking away. The camera is following him, but Nate doesn't seem interested. He suddenly wheels round, snarling.

Nate Valentine: What? What do you want?

The cameraman remains silent.

Nate Valentine: You wanna join the witch hunt? Huh? You think I stepped over the line?

He spits at the cameraman.

Nate Valentine: Screw you. Screw everyone. I'm above all of you. I do what I want, when I want. So what, I cut a woman. Yeah, I made her bleed. You know what, she probably liked it. Like losing her virginity all over again. Except this time, it was to the pinnacle of humanity, rather than to some sweaty, acne ridden fifteen year old fatass in the back of a pick up truck. It's not like I didn't warn you guys. You all knew. You're responsible, not me. This is TDW's fault. Not mine. I'm the Ladykiller. You know what that means? It's not a metaphor, it's barely even a simile. It just means I'd kill a lady. You knew what you were doing when you put her in there with me. You probably did it for the ratings. Violence against women. Very popular. That makes you the bad guys... right?

He steps in close.

[color=red]Nate Valentine: Listen closely. You keep following me around I'll pull your knee caps off. Next person who comes whining to me about what I did to that overconfident bitch is going to get severely disfigured.

He shoves the camera away and storms off. Scene fades to black.