Revenge: a Dish Served Piping Hot

The John Wick Universe

That pensive looking, dressed-in-black, bearded motherfucker is coming to kill you because you, the retarded you, murdered his pet on a whim and now, you can’t do shit to stop that. You were as good as dead when that last neuron fired and made your finger to press the trigger of the gun pointed to that harmless canine. But no, the ignorant in you will not play to the hand of fate. 
 You bring out your guns, your chrome black cars and your born-to-be-killed-by-John goons who come prepackaged in packs of dozen. Most of all, you’ve the guts to supply your squad with pencils. Oh the audacity. Haven’t you heard the stories?
 With fires of revenge burning brightly in his eyes and fond remembrance of his wife etched in his brain, he has only one agenda. To kill anyone dressed in a black suit causing maximum mayhem while on his way to Zion. (Or is this a wrong movie reference?)
 Everyone knows he’s coming. Doors mean nothing to him even of his own sleek Mustang. Security cameras have not been invented yet. Magazines will get empty when he kills the last guy so he has enough time to reload for the next wave. Headshots upon headshots will put any Counter Strike player and part-time engineering student to shame. Bullets will go through walls only to hit the bad guys. Falling from second floor will not amount to anything except a new crease on the tail of his bulletproof blazer. Snipers, shotguns, handguns, knives, baseball bats, expensive SUVs and yeah, pencils will get fired, shoved, thrown, rammed and pierced into bodies. This is his baby-proofed crib and you’re his teething toy.

“Revenge… is like a rolling stone, which, when a man hath forced up a hill, will return upon him with a greater violence, and break those bones whose sinews gave it motion.”
 Only, in his story, it manages to break every sinew & every bone except his own. You might be a Russian mafia with 2000 people on your payroll or an Italian guy with a blood-oath. You’ll be crushed between his mood swings from a broody & sad widower to an angry & sad man who has lost his pet.

This is The Truman Show Part 2, man. Only with a new hero with a punchier name. You’re here to make him look badass. Nothing more nothing less.