Occupation: Former Special Ops Commando and defective tyrant.
Likes: Matrix, Freddy Mercury, leather pants, chainmail vests, knife stroking, sweaty male contact, extreme overacting, moustaches, burgers, sloppy walking, 10,000 volts of electricity.
Dislikes: Matrix, Jenny, pissant soldiers, melting butter, reverse psychology 101, lead piping, in vitro fertilization.
After years of sexual oppression, sloppy S&M exhibitionist Bennett would join the US elite forces and acquire the deadly skills required to exact revenge on the world. Little did he know that he would fall head-over-heels with hulking brute John Matrix, the two of them delighting in everyday macho bullshit while Bennett’s blade twinkled in the moonlight.
John. I’ll be waiting, John. – Bennett
For a brief period, Bennett would enjoy taking orders from his leader – it was a part of his kinky Modus Operandi – but when his beloved John refused to bow down to his own urges, Bennett’s behaviour spiralled out of control. If he was unable to attract his love’s attention in any other way, he would have no choice but to become his enemy, and when Matrix decided to bury the truth about his feelings under the pretence of a test tube daughter, his unwilling nemesis knew he had to dispose of her at all costs.
The wily Bennett would recruit a gang of disposable fodder as a thinly veiled red herring to their predestined reconciliation, surrounding his hideout with an army of mustachioed gymnasts and watching with perverse relish as loverboy John’s biceps glistened in the evening sun. Wearing his favourite chainmail vest and leather pants, Bennett would lead Matrix to a sweaty confrontation in a dark underground room, high on the electricity of physical combat.
John, I’m not gonna shoot you between the eyes. I’m gonna shoot you between the balls! – Bennett
Realising that actual penetration was out of the question, Bennett would settle for the next best thing, hungrily taking a length of lead piping through the chest. After watching his nemesis ejaculate steam, Matrix would then bless him with some post-act sexual innuendo, spouting the immortal line ‘Let off some steam, Bennett!’ and delivering him from frustration.
And as for the future…
When medics arrived to remove the still smoking pipe from his stomach, Bennett saw the error of his ways and found God. Dumping the chain metal fashion and shaving off his moustache, he would travel the world recruiting other ex-commandos, teaching them how to suppress their blood lust in a way that only he could.
Little did he know that this was but another ruse in his unending quest to win the heart of Matrix, who by that point was back to chopping wood in the forest surrounding his secluded hideout. With Jenny away at college, Matrix would one day catch a refection in the head of his axe, a distorted figure approaching from behind. After intentionally playing dumb, the gentle giant would suddenly turn and grab Bennett, taking him in his arms and running away in mock submission shouting ‘I surrender! I surrender!’ with the same Eastern drawl he had once reserved for bouts of tickling with his daughter.