Post by Max f'n Daemon on Jun 11, 2018 0:48:50 GMT -5
A dark hallway is what is seen. The fluorescent light blinking above are all that allow light to shed into this hallway.
That is, until a zippo lighter finds itself turning on. The face?
Hawaiian Hardhead.
“Come to Still Island. We’ve got fun, laughs, and crazy psychotic demon ladies who will force you to make their child. Sounds like a great time for any nerd looking to get laid.”
As he walks down the corridor, his lighter giving vision to the broken windows into rooms containing lab equipment and the bodies and blood that litter the floor.
“Ignore the fact that it’s been abandoned for God knows how long after, you know, that exact scenario happened. Leave it to a supernatural mother intent on death and destruction to all who oppose her to be the one to seal this place up. Mother of the fucking year right there.”
Once Hardhead reaches the end of the hallway, a metal door slides open, only to get stuck halfway. He shakes his head before stepping through. His right foot happens to find its way into a corpse’s stomach.
“Whoop, sorry about that buddy,” he says.
Hardhead enters the room completely, wiping his now bloodied boot against the wall. This new room is much larger and seems to be nothing more than a bridge leading out onto a platform with a broken open pod.
On the floor are remnants of more blood, among other substances.
With a sigh, Hardhead approaches a panel to his right. He clicks a few buttons, causing the lights in the room to turn on completely. The carnage and chaos strung about against the walls and the open area below the bridge is enough to make even HHH squirm and grimace.
He shakes his head, putting the lighter away. His journey to the platform in the center of the room is littered with clanks from his boots which echo continuously through the spherical room surrounding him.
Eventually, HHH reaches the platform with the pod on it. He takes a look around, taking one sniff before regretting it, covering his nose in disgust.
“Blegh! Note to self: bring an air mask next time you go to the aftermath of a massacre,” he says.
HHH notices the pod and its state of disrepair. With narrowed eyes, he approaches it.
He looks inside, to find it empty, barring a small string of shriveled up organ. The sound of a rifle arming is enough for Hardhead to freeze.
“Back it up big boy. Nothin to see here but blood and guts,” the voice says.
A voice that Hardhead recognizes. HHH turns his head slightly, but a gun pushed into his back stops him.
“Rick O’Connell? The fuck are you doing here?” he asks.
The gun is removed, and the voice sighs. Hardhead turns around, coming face-to-face with the person who threatened to kill him.
“Jack Hunter. Shit, I should’ve known. A place this messed up was bound to attract the council’s attention,” Rick says.
Rick places the rifle against his shoulder, looking around the room.
“To answer your question, I assume the same reason you are. Gotten reports of some mystical being that was roaming around. Got called in to check out, but it doesn’t look like there’s much here anymore,” he says.
He looks back into the pod. He notices the same organ that HHH did. Rick reaches in, pulling it out and looking at it.
“So it is true,” he says.
Hardhead just nods at the man.
“Yep. Supernatural entity Alma, last acted here a few weeks ago. Her timeline repeated and she raped Michael Becket, allowing the birth of her child. Michael Becket was taken into custody by Armacham soldiers where he presently remains for the timeline to continue. Unfortunately, the carnage and mayhem that occurred has yet to be remedied, nor will I doubt it ever will,” HHH says.
“My report says that she came back here last week, but was gone within the hour. If that…organ…thing is what I think it is, it looks like we’ve got a Rosemary situation on our hands,” Rick says.
“Fuck. I hate Rosemary situations. I doubt Noxurus would go for Alma. Too easy and too timeline distorting. My guess is he’s after the child.”
Rick looks at Hardhead, raising an eyebrow at the words that were just spoken.
“Right. Well…unless Alma or the baby is still roaming around, I think there’s not much else to find here,” Rick says.
A footstep on metal causes both men to point their guns in a direction: Rick and his rifle, HHH and his pistol.
Rick notices this, looking towards HHH.
“You brought a pistol to potentially kill a supernatural mother who recently just gave birth?” he asks.
Hardhead shakes his head, cocking the pistol despite.
“Knowing Mr. Hunter, I had to guess he wasn't prepared for such a situation to arise,” the voice says.
HHH and Rick stare on as a man in a nice suit steps out of the shadows. The man has a flat black buzz cut and is showing his older age quite clearly.
Both men notice the man in question, but don’t lower their guns.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Rick says.
“This isn’t good,” HHH says.
Rick and HHH stand their ground, their guns not lowering.
“Relax, Mr. Hunter, Mr. O’Connell. I am merely here investigating this incident just as the two of you are,” the suited man says.
Rick chimes in, his aim down the sights of his rifle firm.
“The hell would the Others want with this?” he asks.
“What threatens the Prime Dimension threatens them all. We are merely making sure our investments are secured,” the suited man responds.
Hardheads nods, uncocking his pistol before putting it away in his pants.
“Fair enough. All the Others care about are deals and making sure they’re paid off. If Noxurus destroys the main dimension, who knows what all would be lost from them,” he says.
“I’m not lowering the gun, Jack,” Rick says.
“Good. Keep it aimed in between his eyes,” HHH says.
Hardhead walks towards the suited man, offering a hand to him.
“G, I’d like to cash in one of my deals,” he says.
The suited man—G—raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t offer his hand back.
“I’ve got two more left after this so I’m willing to use it here. If the Others are focused on stopping Noxurus than I need to know where he could be looking ahead of time. I can’t stop going to where he’s been and finding out who he’s taken or who he might be taking after I can stop him. I know you’ve got a list of the most dangerous villains—even to you all. If you can get me that list, it would go a long way,” HHH says.
G looks into Hardhead’s eyes. Noticing the hard look in them, he nods, shaking the big man’s hand.
“I accept your terms, Mr. Hunter. I will obtain a copy of our list and have it sent over to the Counci—”
“No,” HHH says, interrupting him.
G raises his eyebrow again.
“No?” he asks.
“No. Send it to me. Personally. Bring the cat next time as well. He knows some people I’d like to talk to,” HHH says.
G looks at Hardhead’s eyes once more, narrowing them slightly. He lets out a sigh, letting his hand go.
“Fair enough. I will deliver the copy to you personally. If that is all gentlemen, I will be on my way,” he says.
G does a small bow before turning around and making his way to the same door Hardhead entered. When the door is opened, pure white can be seen on the other side. G exits through and closes the door with a loud slam.
Rick finally lowers his rifle, putting it against his shoulder once more.
“The fuckin Others. Always there to spoil a party and deliver on their payment, no matter how fucked up it is,” he says.
Hardhead shakes his head before returning to Rick’s side.
“If the Others are involved that only means the Council isn’t doing a good enough job hiding this despite their best efforts. If your people are involved that means they’re not even trying. I’ll have a talk with Paradox and see what the hell is going on,” he says.
Hardhead throws up his hand, tilted sideways. Rick answers, capturing it in his own and gripping them together.
“I can trust you to be there despite anything, right?” HHH asks.
“Of course. A huge battle against an interdimensional being bent on total destruction everywhere? Reminds me of Beach City,” Rick says.
The two let their hands fall.
“Speaking of which, that’s my next stop. Wanna hit the old bar tomorrow and see if Lapis is still in town?” HHH asks.
“I’ll clear it with Evie first. Alex has this thing he wanted to show me but I feel like I’ll be fine bailing out early. We never see you anymore after you joined the Council. God, feels like forever since we’ve been back there. How’s yours doin?” Rick asks.
HHH lets out a huge breath, wiping his hands through his hair.
“Derek’s moving back home and Stephanie is bound to graduate soon, if only to keep her brother in check,” he says.
“That boy still getting into trouble?” Rick asks.
“That’s all he ever seems to do now-a-days,” HHH says.
Rick pauses for a few moments before looking up into Hardhead’s eyes.
“What about Lydia?” he asks.
HHH—for the second time today—freezes. It’s all Rick needs for an answer.
“Still haven’t called her. Jack, the longer you take, the worse it’ll be, and…wait…”
“Rick…” HHH warns.
“You went to Beacon. Don’t lie, I saw it on the docket for my guys. You…you saw Glynda again, didn’t you? Jack!”
“I know! I know what I did, okay? I realize the situation I’m in. I’m not a fucking idiot.”
“Really?” Rick asks. “It seems the less you do, the more you become it. I know how your history with Glynda and you two reigniting history was pretty fuckin stupid. Call Lydia.”
He begins to back away, pointing his rifle at Hardhead with one arm.
“Rick,” the latter says.
“Call her!” Rick says.
Rick turns around, making his way back to the entrance. Eventually he stops.
He turns back around, looking anywhere but at HHH.
“Hey, so…I don’t know if you can tell me, but…how’s Nathan doin?” Rick asks.
“He’s back on probation. As far as I know he’s headin to a job in the Amazons next week, orders from Phil, but…I didn’t tell you that,” HHH says.
Rick sighs, nodding his head before taking his leave.
Hardheads stands there, scratching his cheek a bit before sighing himself.
“How that guy ever became best friends with Nathan Miles I’ll never know,” he says.
------------------------------------------------------------
A camera starts rolling. A normal one, unlike last week. This time we’re on a plane, with the windows behind HHH obvious and the occasional rocking making it clear as the sky they’re soaring through.
“Holy shit. I just got done watching the ‘Queen’s’ promo and…I know I got flack for not being creative in the past, but good god, that promo she gave was damn near close to what MDK gave last week.
Questioning my abilities despite proving people wrong? Check.
Calling me fat and mentioning how small my penis apparently is as a reference to said fat? Check.
Mentioning my history in XWF because it’s better to focus on ten years ago versus two weeks ago because the latter makes you look weak? Check.
Calling my win lucky? Check all over.
Holy hell, she even said I never had sex even though I’m happily married to a wife who is happily returning said sex.
Nobody fakes moans that loud, okay?
What about you Alyce? How’s your sex life?
Cause if what we saw last week with Danny is anything to go by, the guy ain’t putting out enough to keep you happy. Trust me, I had you by the body long enough last week. Somebody doesn’t get that wet just by sweatin, if you know what I mean. It sure as hell wasn’t Mr. Smiles givin you that feeling, and with how big my hands are, I can only assume you were feelin up to task right before I knocked the wind out of ya’ with an Hawaiian Hammer.
I’m not going to try and understand the kind of cult your royal highness’ heinie is runnin, but I do know cults all form around one thing.
With the Royal Family, it’s keeping their ‘Queen’ safe, or at least on top. Because apparently now a days it’s okay to have your balls crushed under a heel? I don’t know, gender equality is gettin kinkier every day that goes by.
I understand wanting somebody like Alyce as your goddess, but the problem comes with the fact that all you end up being is following in her footsteps. Last week? MDK and Page could’ve had a fighting chance without Alyce there. Despite the ability that Alyce might have (not only in pleasing her two boy toys because, trust me, it takes some hard work to keep male wrestlers happy, let alone two), when you put her against me—an over 300 pound, Hawaiian built guy who’s stronger than he’s ever been, it doesn’t take a fuckin rocket scientist to predict who’s going to win.
The last time I fought somebody one-on-one of Alyce’s size, I got booed out of the building for nearly breaking her spine in half with just a Spear. I gave her respect afterwards, but I feel like if I do that with Alyce she’ll pull down my pants just to try and prove how small my penis is because she seemed pretty hellbent on trying to determine its size.
She will be disappointed when it smacks her in the face.
Or my fist does, whichever gets her away from it. I don’t want no cult leader royal ‘Queen’ near my junk. Who knows where that body’s been?
The match this Monday won’t be a bloodbath but it will certainly be a massacre. Unless, Alyce, you decide to throw the match out and have your two fools blindside me—good luck with that—there is zero fucking chance you’re walking out. Do I feel momentum coming? Abso-fucking-lutely. Is it because I beat you last week?
No.
Beating you isn’t an accomplishment, despite what you might want to believe. I’m a 40 year old man. Beating up girls smaller than me would be sexual assault and battery anywhere else.
That being said, this isn’t anywhere else. It’s the WGWF. I’m in an official match with Alyce Starchild. A woman who tried—and failed—to criticize the size of my penis, my intelligence, and my accomplishments a whole fuckin decade ago.
If we can focus on Monday for a bit, I’d like to say that, personally, I will enjoy beating the ever loving orgasm out of Miss Starchylde.
Keep your tits in line, girl, I know you made them grow. That plastic surgeon botox that made them boys flow. You fuck with me, I’ll boot your face off, and have it towed.
And Alyce…since you’re really…really focused on my penis…if you didn’t know my now, well…”
HHH takes out his phone. He points it down, taking a picture of it. He looks back, smirking. He clicks a button on his phone before putting it back in his pocket. He then zips up his pants below the camera.
“…now you know.”
HHH turns the camera off.
That is, until a zippo lighter finds itself turning on. The face?
Hawaiian Hardhead.
“Come to Still Island. We’ve got fun, laughs, and crazy psychotic demon ladies who will force you to make their child. Sounds like a great time for any nerd looking to get laid.”
As he walks down the corridor, his lighter giving vision to the broken windows into rooms containing lab equipment and the bodies and blood that litter the floor.
“Ignore the fact that it’s been abandoned for God knows how long after, you know, that exact scenario happened. Leave it to a supernatural mother intent on death and destruction to all who oppose her to be the one to seal this place up. Mother of the fucking year right there.”
Once Hardhead reaches the end of the hallway, a metal door slides open, only to get stuck halfway. He shakes his head before stepping through. His right foot happens to find its way into a corpse’s stomach.
“Whoop, sorry about that buddy,” he says.
Hardhead enters the room completely, wiping his now bloodied boot against the wall. This new room is much larger and seems to be nothing more than a bridge leading out onto a platform with a broken open pod.
On the floor are remnants of more blood, among other substances.
With a sigh, Hardhead approaches a panel to his right. He clicks a few buttons, causing the lights in the room to turn on completely. The carnage and chaos strung about against the walls and the open area below the bridge is enough to make even HHH squirm and grimace.
He shakes his head, putting the lighter away. His journey to the platform in the center of the room is littered with clanks from his boots which echo continuously through the spherical room surrounding him.
Eventually, HHH reaches the platform with the pod on it. He takes a look around, taking one sniff before regretting it, covering his nose in disgust.
“Blegh! Note to self: bring an air mask next time you go to the aftermath of a massacre,” he says.
HHH notices the pod and its state of disrepair. With narrowed eyes, he approaches it.
He looks inside, to find it empty, barring a small string of shriveled up organ. The sound of a rifle arming is enough for Hardhead to freeze.
“Back it up big boy. Nothin to see here but blood and guts,” the voice says.
A voice that Hardhead recognizes. HHH turns his head slightly, but a gun pushed into his back stops him.
“Rick O’Connell? The fuck are you doing here?” he asks.
The gun is removed, and the voice sighs. Hardhead turns around, coming face-to-face with the person who threatened to kill him.
“Jack Hunter. Shit, I should’ve known. A place this messed up was bound to attract the council’s attention,” Rick says.
Rick places the rifle against his shoulder, looking around the room.
“To answer your question, I assume the same reason you are. Gotten reports of some mystical being that was roaming around. Got called in to check out, but it doesn’t look like there’s much here anymore,” he says.
He looks back into the pod. He notices the same organ that HHH did. Rick reaches in, pulling it out and looking at it.
“So it is true,” he says.
Hardhead just nods at the man.
“Yep. Supernatural entity Alma, last acted here a few weeks ago. Her timeline repeated and she raped Michael Becket, allowing the birth of her child. Michael Becket was taken into custody by Armacham soldiers where he presently remains for the timeline to continue. Unfortunately, the carnage and mayhem that occurred has yet to be remedied, nor will I doubt it ever will,” HHH says.
“My report says that she came back here last week, but was gone within the hour. If that…organ…thing is what I think it is, it looks like we’ve got a Rosemary situation on our hands,” Rick says.
“Fuck. I hate Rosemary situations. I doubt Noxurus would go for Alma. Too easy and too timeline distorting. My guess is he’s after the child.”
Rick looks at Hardhead, raising an eyebrow at the words that were just spoken.
“Right. Well…unless Alma or the baby is still roaming around, I think there’s not much else to find here,” Rick says.
A footstep on metal causes both men to point their guns in a direction: Rick and his rifle, HHH and his pistol.
Rick notices this, looking towards HHH.
“You brought a pistol to potentially kill a supernatural mother who recently just gave birth?” he asks.
Hardhead shakes his head, cocking the pistol despite.
“Knowing Mr. Hunter, I had to guess he wasn't prepared for such a situation to arise,” the voice says.
HHH and Rick stare on as a man in a nice suit steps out of the shadows. The man has a flat black buzz cut and is showing his older age quite clearly.
Both men notice the man in question, but don’t lower their guns.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Rick says.
“This isn’t good,” HHH says.
Rick and HHH stand their ground, their guns not lowering.
“Relax, Mr. Hunter, Mr. O’Connell. I am merely here investigating this incident just as the two of you are,” the suited man says.
Rick chimes in, his aim down the sights of his rifle firm.
“The hell would the Others want with this?” he asks.
“What threatens the Prime Dimension threatens them all. We are merely making sure our investments are secured,” the suited man responds.
Hardheads nods, uncocking his pistol before putting it away in his pants.
“Fair enough. All the Others care about are deals and making sure they’re paid off. If Noxurus destroys the main dimension, who knows what all would be lost from them,” he says.
“I’m not lowering the gun, Jack,” Rick says.
“Good. Keep it aimed in between his eyes,” HHH says.
Hardhead walks towards the suited man, offering a hand to him.
“G, I’d like to cash in one of my deals,” he says.
The suited man—G—raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t offer his hand back.
“I’ve got two more left after this so I’m willing to use it here. If the Others are focused on stopping Noxurus than I need to know where he could be looking ahead of time. I can’t stop going to where he’s been and finding out who he’s taken or who he might be taking after I can stop him. I know you’ve got a list of the most dangerous villains—even to you all. If you can get me that list, it would go a long way,” HHH says.
G looks into Hardhead’s eyes. Noticing the hard look in them, he nods, shaking the big man’s hand.
“I accept your terms, Mr. Hunter. I will obtain a copy of our list and have it sent over to the Counci—”
“No,” HHH says, interrupting him.
G raises his eyebrow again.
“No?” he asks.
“No. Send it to me. Personally. Bring the cat next time as well. He knows some people I’d like to talk to,” HHH says.
G looks at Hardhead’s eyes once more, narrowing them slightly. He lets out a sigh, letting his hand go.
“Fair enough. I will deliver the copy to you personally. If that is all gentlemen, I will be on my way,” he says.
G does a small bow before turning around and making his way to the same door Hardhead entered. When the door is opened, pure white can be seen on the other side. G exits through and closes the door with a loud slam.
Rick finally lowers his rifle, putting it against his shoulder once more.
“The fuckin Others. Always there to spoil a party and deliver on their payment, no matter how fucked up it is,” he says.
Hardhead shakes his head before returning to Rick’s side.
“If the Others are involved that only means the Council isn’t doing a good enough job hiding this despite their best efforts. If your people are involved that means they’re not even trying. I’ll have a talk with Paradox and see what the hell is going on,” he says.
Hardhead throws up his hand, tilted sideways. Rick answers, capturing it in his own and gripping them together.
“I can trust you to be there despite anything, right?” HHH asks.
“Of course. A huge battle against an interdimensional being bent on total destruction everywhere? Reminds me of Beach City,” Rick says.
The two let their hands fall.
“Speaking of which, that’s my next stop. Wanna hit the old bar tomorrow and see if Lapis is still in town?” HHH asks.
“I’ll clear it with Evie first. Alex has this thing he wanted to show me but I feel like I’ll be fine bailing out early. We never see you anymore after you joined the Council. God, feels like forever since we’ve been back there. How’s yours doin?” Rick asks.
HHH lets out a huge breath, wiping his hands through his hair.
“Derek’s moving back home and Stephanie is bound to graduate soon, if only to keep her brother in check,” he says.
“That boy still getting into trouble?” Rick asks.
“That’s all he ever seems to do now-a-days,” HHH says.
Rick pauses for a few moments before looking up into Hardhead’s eyes.
“What about Lydia?” he asks.
HHH—for the second time today—freezes. It’s all Rick needs for an answer.
“Still haven’t called her. Jack, the longer you take, the worse it’ll be, and…wait…”
“Rick…” HHH warns.
“You went to Beacon. Don’t lie, I saw it on the docket for my guys. You…you saw Glynda again, didn’t you? Jack!”
“I know! I know what I did, okay? I realize the situation I’m in. I’m not a fucking idiot.”
“Really?” Rick asks. “It seems the less you do, the more you become it. I know how your history with Glynda and you two reigniting history was pretty fuckin stupid. Call Lydia.”
He begins to back away, pointing his rifle at Hardhead with one arm.
“Rick,” the latter says.
“Call her!” Rick says.
Rick turns around, making his way back to the entrance. Eventually he stops.
He turns back around, looking anywhere but at HHH.
“Hey, so…I don’t know if you can tell me, but…how’s Nathan doin?” Rick asks.
“He’s back on probation. As far as I know he’s headin to a job in the Amazons next week, orders from Phil, but…I didn’t tell you that,” HHH says.
Rick sighs, nodding his head before taking his leave.
Hardheads stands there, scratching his cheek a bit before sighing himself.
“How that guy ever became best friends with Nathan Miles I’ll never know,” he says.
------------------------------------------------------------
A camera starts rolling. A normal one, unlike last week. This time we’re on a plane, with the windows behind HHH obvious and the occasional rocking making it clear as the sky they’re soaring through.
“Holy shit. I just got done watching the ‘Queen’s’ promo and…I know I got flack for not being creative in the past, but good god, that promo she gave was damn near close to what MDK gave last week.
Questioning my abilities despite proving people wrong? Check.
Calling me fat and mentioning how small my penis apparently is as a reference to said fat? Check.
Mentioning my history in XWF because it’s better to focus on ten years ago versus two weeks ago because the latter makes you look weak? Check.
Calling my win lucky? Check all over.
Holy hell, she even said I never had sex even though I’m happily married to a wife who is happily returning said sex.
Nobody fakes moans that loud, okay?
What about you Alyce? How’s your sex life?
Cause if what we saw last week with Danny is anything to go by, the guy ain’t putting out enough to keep you happy. Trust me, I had you by the body long enough last week. Somebody doesn’t get that wet just by sweatin, if you know what I mean. It sure as hell wasn’t Mr. Smiles givin you that feeling, and with how big my hands are, I can only assume you were feelin up to task right before I knocked the wind out of ya’ with an Hawaiian Hammer.
I’m not going to try and understand the kind of cult your royal highness’ heinie is runnin, but I do know cults all form around one thing.
With the Royal Family, it’s keeping their ‘Queen’ safe, or at least on top. Because apparently now a days it’s okay to have your balls crushed under a heel? I don’t know, gender equality is gettin kinkier every day that goes by.
I understand wanting somebody like Alyce as your goddess, but the problem comes with the fact that all you end up being is following in her footsteps. Last week? MDK and Page could’ve had a fighting chance without Alyce there. Despite the ability that Alyce might have (not only in pleasing her two boy toys because, trust me, it takes some hard work to keep male wrestlers happy, let alone two), when you put her against me—an over 300 pound, Hawaiian built guy who’s stronger than he’s ever been, it doesn’t take a fuckin rocket scientist to predict who’s going to win.
The last time I fought somebody one-on-one of Alyce’s size, I got booed out of the building for nearly breaking her spine in half with just a Spear. I gave her respect afterwards, but I feel like if I do that with Alyce she’ll pull down my pants just to try and prove how small my penis is because she seemed pretty hellbent on trying to determine its size.
She will be disappointed when it smacks her in the face.
Or my fist does, whichever gets her away from it. I don’t want no cult leader royal ‘Queen’ near my junk. Who knows where that body’s been?
The match this Monday won’t be a bloodbath but it will certainly be a massacre. Unless, Alyce, you decide to throw the match out and have your two fools blindside me—good luck with that—there is zero fucking chance you’re walking out. Do I feel momentum coming? Abso-fucking-lutely. Is it because I beat you last week?
No.
Beating you isn’t an accomplishment, despite what you might want to believe. I’m a 40 year old man. Beating up girls smaller than me would be sexual assault and battery anywhere else.
That being said, this isn’t anywhere else. It’s the WGWF. I’m in an official match with Alyce Starchild. A woman who tried—and failed—to criticize the size of my penis, my intelligence, and my accomplishments a whole fuckin decade ago.
If we can focus on Monday for a bit, I’d like to say that, personally, I will enjoy beating the ever loving orgasm out of Miss Starchylde.
Keep your tits in line, girl, I know you made them grow. That plastic surgeon botox that made them boys flow. You fuck with me, I’ll boot your face off, and have it towed.
And Alyce…since you’re really…really focused on my penis…if you didn’t know my now, well…”
HHH takes out his phone. He points it down, taking a picture of it. He looks back, smirking. He clicks a button on his phone before putting it back in his pocket. He then zips up his pants below the camera.
“…now you know.”
HHH turns the camera off.