Simon Cannon's Questionnaire

Tucson, Arizona. It's... It's a place, yeah. I don't really 'have' a reason why I live here. I was born here. I guess the only reason I'm still around here is because my folks are still around. That's it, really.. No real reason to leave yet.

My home, though, is just some run-down shitty apartment. I'm trying to live frugal, save-up money for the future. Don't even have a proper refrigerator, I have a mini fridge and a countertop burner. I don't have a washer and dryer - I go to a laundromat for that.

Minimal. Frugal. Them's the breaks. I gotta' be careful with my money sometimes, never know when you might need to buy something.

My job! I work in the postal service, it's great. A chunk of my co-workers hate my guts for being expedient, but I don't give a rat's ass about it - this country, historically, depended on postage, so it's my duty to do it right and do it good.

I spend my money on cheap food, utilities, gas, so on and so forth - if I need to buy something, I'll buy it without worry, that's why I save my money. If I fall in life, my savings will catch my stupid ass before I hit my head on the way out.

I want to be number one. I want to be number one, at any cost. I want to be THE number one swordsman, at any cost. I have sat at the seat atop the tower of babel, as the world I see from my own viewpoint is a world I do not enjoy, one I do not understand. I have no ambitions beyond hedonism, I have no ambitions beyond my own willpower.

I strive to do the best in my line of work, so why would I not strive to be the best in what I truly want to do? I've always wanted to experience the catharsis of war, but I got barred at the gate because I was prescribed adderall when I was fourteen.

What is a name without a legacy, damn it!?

When I was a kid, a little one? Yeah, I saw a movie I shouldn't have. It ruled, though.

My dad brought home a copy of Blade, starring Wesley Snipes. He asked me if I wanted to see a movie, it was 'just like Stars War', so he just popped it into the DVD player and we started watching it.

It terrified me, to the point that I shook in-place. After it all I got tucked into bed - the scene with all the vampires in the night-club particularly scared me. But, as I grew up more, I learned to love that movie.

God, that movie rocks. I wish my dad didn't show me Alien after that though. Shitty taste in movies. Who the fuck shows a kid Alien? Nearly had a fucking heart attack.

Samuel Cannon - My dad. Immigrated before I was born, loves America, loves beer, loves sports. He's as stupid as a box of rocks, though. He's done lots of odd-jobs - custodian, trucker, fisherman, you name it.

Troy Stuart - A coworker at the postal service. A short, skinny man who won't shut the fuck up about this 'Annie-May' bullshit. One of the few people there that actually keep a reasonable pace at doing their job, instead of being a slow sack of shit - honesty, valued in any man.

Bevis Lane - Best friend, THE quintessential best friend. We go way back to high-school. HE gets it - HE gets what it means to be the best. Works in a record-store downtown, big focus at that store is on metal records - likewise, a huge metal-head. Unfortunately, he's also an air-headed pot-smoker who is consistently half-sapient. Currently going through college for computer-science. I have my doubts on his intellectual capacity.

I never knew my mother too well. She was gone pretty early in my life - car accident, horrible stuff. My dad, though - grade A idiot. Love him to death, though. Didn't quite raise me right, had a few screws loose - along with nails, nuts, bolts, and the entire fucking radiator... But he's my dad, pretty sure he'd take a bullet for me.

Yeah, I went through school. I fit in decently in high-school. Didn't do a ton, got decent grades, got out without much of a direction - so, naturally, I gravitated towards getting an easy, cushy job. Fuck getting into debt, FUCK getting a useless degree, FUCK college, I spit on college and piss on it like one of those Calvin and Hobbes stickers.

But, damn. I will say, I got big into HEMA when I was in high-school. Watched it, loved it, participated in it even. That's really my biggest hobby.

The only thing I am in love with is the joy of combat. I feel no attraction to other people what so ever - in fact, honestly it's the opposite. I can interact with people, but I feel very little remorse for them outside of the fact that we're both living on planet earth. Dog eat dog.

I'm not a nihilist about it, I think that's stupid! Hell, I'm not going to tote that around because it makes people look at me like I'm a sociopath!

It's just how it is! If some bastard's got a better job than me, I'm gonna' spite him for denying me that opportunity! The guy's got a wife and kids, so why would I make his day any worse - but, god damn if I don't hope he gets into a car-crash.

I don't fear death. My grandfather and my great-grandfather before me died in their prime, never seeing their golden age.

I don't give a shit about that, really. Honestly, I kind-of have a bit of a hedonistic, or like.. Nihilistic outlook on things, I guess. You live, and you go to hell on fire, saying: "Wow, what a fucking ride."

I live, I conquer, I die. That's a fact, everybody shits, everybody dies - everybody shits themselves when they die, can you change that? Who could change that? The answer is: no, and nobody. You can't play god, man. You can judge a man, you can kill him, but you can't really change where he goes after he kicks the fucking bucket, pal.

The only thing I give people that I hurt is this. A clean, quick death.

I don't give a fuck if somebody gets tortured. Honestly? I've seen some crazy shit in my life, man. But me? I wouldn't do it, that's fucked. You gotta' be fucked in the head if you let somebody die slowly.

No, really. For all the freaks and psychopaths I've seen, nobody wants to die screaming and crying. It just ain't right. Now that's trying to play god, right there.

Man... I ain't got SHIT.

You know where I am right now?

I'm in fucking PRISON!

What the fuck am I supposed to say? My sneakers? My tank-top? My fucking socks?

I used to have a fancy jacket, before 'Johnny Law' took all my shit. Loved my sunglasses... Had a nice Rapier when I was younger, but I sold it for cash.

I used to do, like, fencing and shit, yeah? My dad was supportive of it. He bought me an epee, and even though it was kind of a piece of shit, that was for ME, man - not somebody else, not some random schmuck off the street, that was MINE.

I was going to carry that sword to the fucking top, I was going to be the one to win everything with this fucking thing.

Unfortunately, I got bored with fencing. It felt fake for me, man.

Sucks to suck, I guess. Guess who's winning in the end?