An abrupt burst of static takes over the screen, flickering on and off several times before the feed cuts away from the show. The black and white screen comes into resolution with a close-up frame on a pair of heavily callused hands, fingers swollen and warped from years of innumerable breaks, sprains, and trauma. Between the forefinger and middle finger of the right hand rests an unlit cigar, the end chewed extensively.
The screen fills with static once again, cutting to a momentary glance at what appears to be a dimly lit basement gym. A second flicker reveals dirty and tattered mats and two men circling one another, the darkness making it difficult to see who they are. A quick cut, followed by the sounds of pure agony as one of the men is bent and twisted, their body contorting to the whims of their assailant. The screen flickers again, cutting back to the callused hands.
Another quick cut back to the tattered gym, more unrelenting screams. The shot follows the hands as they move up toward the lower half of a face. With a flick, the Zippo comes to life, producing a flame that lights the end of the cigar. As a pull is taken, the amber red tip illuminates the otherwise black and white screen, revealing a ragged face covered in prominent salt and pepper stubble. The shot pans back slowly, exposing cold eyes that pierce through the screen. The man’s face contorts into a snarl and an exhale of smoke fills the screen.
Two words appear over the smoke: