Ryan Beyer
Mid-Carder
[M:0]
There's Blood in the Water
Posts: 314
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Post by Ryan Beyer on May 5, 2006 22:39:44 GMT -5
Here the staff will post great RP's to use as examples. Hopefully this will help people improve.
Please, if you are not on the staff, DO NOT POST IN HERE.
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Post by "HBK" Shawn Michaels on May 6, 2006 20:26:52 GMT -5
"Living in the Shadows of Defeat" Battlemania RP The door to a lockeroom slowly opens revealing "The Heart Break Kid" Shawn Michaels sitting in a chair with the World Heavyweight Championship sitting in his lap as he stares down at the floor with a towel draped over his head. As the camera gets closer to Shawn, not a sound is heard throughout the room except for the deep breath of air Shawn Michaels takes. He then snatches the towel off his head, and slings his dripping wet hair back. He looks into the camera, with a look that has never been seen upon the face of such a happy and pleasant man. He continues to stare on as the dead silence continues throughout the room. He swallows a huge lump in his throat and begins to slightly speak
HBK: Tonight is the night huh? Tonight is the night that ol' HBK defends his precious title against Triple H. This very day has been anticipated by fans their entire life. To see two men who were once like brothers try to kill each other for some title. Its a shame to think about the things a title such as this can cause a man to do. Such as turn on his best friend or even screw a fellow worker out of his job and take all his pride away. It is things like these that make up the world today and it is things like these as to why things are the way they are. People give up their lives to fight for things such as these yet, while they are fighting and giving their life for them, the ones that care about them the most suffer from the pain of having to watch them put their life on the line. The shadows have been cast upon us tonight and tonight another chapter in the life of Shawn Michaels arises. The climax of the story begins here tonight. The journey within all starts from here, but where does it end. That we do not know, but we risk everything we have to find out, and thats why tonight, I give my life for these fans and what I stand for. Tonight every breath I breathe is for the people that have watched over me their whole life. Every breath I breathe is for my family sitting at home, hoping and praying that I make it through this night. With each and every punch I throw tonight, I can only hope that I am able to make it home to my wife and children for another day. Vince McMahon, I can assure you one thing, "The Heart Break Kid" shall live on!
As Shawn finishes speaking the door to his lockeroom flies open and it is none other than Vince McMahon standing before him. Vince begins smiling at Shawn and pulls up a chair beside him
Vince: Why hello there Shawn! I just happened to be walking by and I heard your voice coming from this lockeroom. And what was I heard you say? Oh yes,"The Heart Break Kid shall live on". Well Shawn you keep thinking that. You just keep that thought in that puny little mind of yours. Tonight is the end of the line for you Shawn Michaels and you know it. Tonight Triple H is going to KILL you! I've already told him to stop at nothing to beat you Shawn, and I've told the ref to not stop the match for anything, and I mean anything. You dug yourself into a deep dark hole Michaels, and you're never gonna climb your way out. I've drawn the line and there is no chance in hell for you to come out the NHBWO World Heavyweight Champion tonight!
HBK: Vince, I've already told you once. I don't give a d**n about this title. It means nothing to me, and if you're willing to have Triple H kill me to take it from me, then so be it. Have that SOB kill me and take it from me, but when its all said and done what will you have accomplished Vince? Nothing!!! I've fought my way through this business for many years Vince and theres been nothing to stop me yet. Vince, once I beat Triple H tonight, I'm coming for you and that no good piece of crap The Rock. And once I'm through with you two, I'm going to make my way to Wrestle - Fest, retain my World Title once again, and beat "The Legend of NHBWO" Bill.......Goldberg!
Vince: Shawn, do you not get it? Do you not understand that after tonight you will not be living? Dammit Shawn Michaels, you are not going to survive the night let alone Bill Goldberg at Wrestle - Fest. Shawn you're screwed dammit, you're screwed worse than that idiot Bret Hart back at Survivor Series in 1997. This time there is no going back Shawn. There is no alternate pathway. Your pathway is straight to death!!!
Vince McMahon gets face to face with Shawn and begins to laugh. Shawn stares back at him and Vince jerks his face away and walks out of the lockeroom slamming the door shut
With an angry look upon his face, Shawn stands up, sets the title down in the chair and begins putting on his entrance gear. As he slowly fastens it and puts on his entrance vest, he drops to his knees and begins to pray. The prayer is silent and only the movement from Shawn Michaels' lips can be heard. With each and every word mouthed by "The Heart Break Kid" and angel seems to lift his spirits. As he finishes praying he grabs the title fastens it around his waste and walks over to a mirror. In the corner of the mirror a picture of Shawn's family can be seen. The family seems as happy as can be and as Shawn looks at it, closes his eyes and begins to think. As each thought passes through his mind he takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes and begins to check himself over, he carefully takes down the picture and closely looks at it once again. He brings it to his lips and kisses the photo. As he looks at it one last time he tucks it into his entrance gear right where his heart is. HBK twists his neck from side to side popping it and pops his knuckles. He turns around, looks into the camera
HBK: And so it begins........
HBK walks to wards the door and the pounding of drums begins to echo throughout the arena. The camera begins to follow Shawn down the hallway and the cheers from all the fans in the main arena can be heard cheering Shawn on
As he walks down the hallway and nears closer to the entrance tunnel he shakes his head and moves from side to side. He enters the dark long tunnel covered in black tarps and the roaring of the crowd grows louder and louder with each step. The flashing of lights can be faintly seen through spaces in the tarps and HBK stops right before he reaches the black curtain leading into one of the greatest stages of them all. He slings his arms around and fixes the title on his waist. The lyrics to "Sexy Boy" suddenly sing out over the P.A. system and Shawn Michaels slings open the curtain
"Sexy Boy"
"(Oh, oh, Shawn!) I think I'm cute! I know I'm sexy! I got the looks that drives a girl wild! I got the moves... that really move 'em. I send chills... up and down their spines! I'm just a sexy boy! (Se-xy boy!) I'm not your boy toy! (Boy toy!) I'm just a sexy boy! (Se-xy boy!) I'm not your boy toy! (Boy toy!) I make 'em hot! I make 'em shiver! Their knees get weak... Whenever I'm around! They see me walk... They hear me talk... I make 'em feel like they're on cloud nine! I'm just a sexy boy! (Se-xy boy!) I'm not your boy toy! (Boy toy!) I'm just a sexy boy! (Se-xy boy!) I'm not your boy toy! (Boy toy!) [Spoken] Eat your heart out, girls! Hands off the merchandise!"
As Shawn prances his way out onto the stage thousands of fans begin to scream his name and yell for him. He is one of the greatest things ever to grace the squared circle and tonight, they get the opportunity to see him put his title on the line against "The Game", "The Cerebral Assassin" Triple H. Tonight, they witness one of the greatest matches in wrestling history. Shawn spins around basking in glory and runs to each side of the stage. He throws his hands up and yells for the crowd. With each and every move "The Heart Break Kid" makes the crowd gets wilder and wilder. Not a thing in the world can bring "The Showstoppa" down in these very moments and he lets out a huge smile for the audience. As spotlights shine and strobe lights flash "The Heart Break Kid" begins dancing his way down the entrance ramp. He high fives random members of the crowd and jumps up onto the guard rail. As he looks over into the sea of fans they all grasp him and cheer for him more. Looking as if he is almost being lifted into the heavens by the fans HBK hops down from the rail. He runs over to the other side and jumps on the rail again. He points at the title and yells out cries of glory. Once again HBK hops down off the rail and dances farther down the rampway. As he reaches the end he points into the fans and drops to his knees. As he stares down and holds his arms down by his side the chanting of "HBK" grows louder and louder
Dripping wet from sweat HBK slings his head back and raises his arms. Huge walls of golden fireworks erupt from the stage and begin to rumble the arena's foundation. HBK kisses his hands and throws them up to wards the heavens as a light shines down upon him
He kisses the very ramp he sits on and raises up to his feet. He slowly jogs around the ring highfiving as many fans as possible causing them to almost jump over the rail to touch him
He runs back around the ring and jumps up onto the announce table causing Joey Styles and Paul Heyman to jump back. He goes to each side of the table throwing up his arms and yelling for the fans. Each section of the arena is going nuts for Shawn Michaels like never before. The very fire that burns inside "The Heart Break Kid" can be felt in the heart of each and every fan
He then bends down and asks for high fives from Paul and Joey. They both shrug and high five him at the same time. Michaels jumps from the table onto the ring apron. As he spins around along the ring apron flashes from cameras go off all around him. He then steps into the squared circle between the top and middle ropes. He runs to the nearest ring post and climbs to the middle rope. He throws up his hands and yells for the fans once again
This time, he unfastens his World Heavyweight Championship and holds it in the air for all of the arena to see. He then thrusts it into the air even higher and points to himself signaling that this belt as his and will remain his till the end of time. HBK then hops down from the middle rope and runs around to the remaining corners throwing up his arms and yelling for the crowd. As he yells more and more the intensity felt in him raises. As he reaches the middle of the ring he suddenly drops to one knee and spreads the other leg completely out. As the fans await for Shawn to flex his muscles he looks around at the crowd
HBK flexes his muscles and begins to yell again. The flashes from cameras go off more and more as he remains crouched in the trademark "Sexy Boy" pose
Finally the flashes slowly fade away and Shawn Michaels lifts up out of the pose. HBK begins to unbutton his entrance gear and tosses it from the ring. He then bounces off the ropes a few times and goes over to the back side of the ring. He beckons for a microphone and a member of the ring crew hands one up to him. Michaels softly takes the microphone from him and shakes his hand and high fives him. The worker smiles at him and salutes Michaels. With a smile on his face Michaels begins to circle the center of the ring. The crowd begins to chant "HBK" again, but this time HBK drops to his knees and bows to them. After the chanting continues on for a minute or two HBK signals for the crowd to quiet down and he raises to his feet. He smirks at the crowd and begins to speak
HBK: So this is Battle - Mania huh? This is all the hype we've been leading to for weeks huh? Well Triple H, I'm still standing so far, and I've got two victories over you. Too bad you can't say the same for me huh? Hunter for weeks now everything has lead to this point. The path we took lead us here to Battle - Mania. It lead us to a no disqualification match for the NHBWO World Heavyweight Championship. For weeks in and weeks out Vince has done nothing but try to screw me out of this title. I've been telling you both along that way that this title means nothing to me. It is nothing but a mere hunk of gold with my name plate on it that supposedly signifies that you are the best this business has to offer. Well Hunter.....Vince, I'm gonna tell you one last time. I am the best this business has to offer, and tonight thats exactly what you're gonna see. You are both gonna witness the utmost best performance "The Showstoppa" has ever put on. You may ask why? Well I'll to you exactly why? I'm going to put on the utmost best performance I've ever done because I know that after tonight I'm gonna go into Wrestle - Fest knowing that I did my best in the NHBWO. I'm gonna go into Wrestle - Fest with my head held high and the title around my waist. Vince you've been waiting a long time to get the opportunity to screw me over and tonight is not that night. You gonna have to screw a lot harder to screw me over Vince, and boy do I like it rough. Don't get too excited Vince. Remember, I'm not your little screw buddy, Hunter is. Its a d**n shame what he's done to you Hunter. It is pathetic to see just how much you kiss his ass each and every night before you go to bed. By the way, does Stephanie know about you kissing his ass? Because I'm sure she wouldn't want to be tasting her own father's ass every night before she goes to bed.
The fans all begin to laugh and HBK just smirks at the camera. He waits for the laughing to die down and begins to speak once again
HBK: Hold your horses back there Trips. No need to get all angry on us. I know you and I'm just about one hundred percent sure that big vein in your forehead is just about to burst as I stand here and mock you in front of all your fans. Oops, guess I made a mistake.....What fans???
HBK looks around and holds his hand up over his eyes to spot maybe one or two Triple H fans
HBK: Guess they didn't show tonight huh? Guess not. Well Hunter, our big rivalry comes to a sudden halt in less than two hours. When the time comes we shall both collide in this ring with one goal in mind. To give the other our best we've got. I don't know about you Hunter, but I am d**n sure ready to get this thing started. I've been waiting day in and day out for this night and finally it has boiled down to it. It comes down to Battle - Mania. The night that the two best men in NHBWO as of right now collide for the NHBWO World Heavyweight Championship. No other match in NHBWO history has been built up this much and tonight I'm not gonna let all this build up go to waste. I'm gonna take advantage of it and use it against you Hunter. I've been in the spotlight here before and I know how much pressure there is being champion Hunter. And tonight you try to end my story and become champion here in the NHBWO for the first time. Triple H, Vince wants you to practically kill me. He wants you to drive the final stake through my heart. Well Hunter, the only heart thats gonna be broken tonight is yours and Vince McMahon's when your master plan to dethrone "The Heart Break Kid" crumbles to the ground before you both. Triple H, you've got nothing to lose and everything to gain, but in my case I have just about everything to lose and a little to gain. You may question the things I have to gain and say that they don't matter, but to me gaining respect from these fans is the greatest thing you can earn in this business. If you can bring these fans to their feet screaming and yelling each and every time you step out from behind that black curtain, then you know you've earned all you can. You know that these fans love you and care for you. Triple H, I may not have Vince McMahon on my side, but I do have the love of these fans, and the love of my wife and children.
HBK lowers the microphone from his mouth and paces around the ring for a few moments as the fans applaud him. As HBK looks on at the loving fans he raises his hand and begins to speak once more
HBK: Yesterday morning I spent as much time as I could with my family, because I know that it could be the last time they get to see me. Before I left them last night on the plane to here, I told them I loved them and that tonight I was going to give my life. I've had enough crap from you Vince McMahon and tonight Shawn Michaels will walk tall before you as the NHBWO World Heavyweight Champion and I'll walk out of here the same way.
Michaels takes the belt from his shoulder and holds it up into the air as the fans erupt into cheers. He signals them to quiet down once again and speaks once more
HBK: Triple H, you talk about wanting to accomplish all these things in the NHBWO and how tonight the king of kings returns to his thrown, but there is just one thing stopping you Hunter.......and thats ME. In everyone of these fan's eyes they see you as half the man I am. So I'm sure every time you even think about me it must break you heart to see just exactly what I've become. I am "The Icon", I am "The Showstoppa", I am "The Heart Break Kid" Shawn Michaels and Triple H the shadows have been cast upon you for Battle - Mania, and at the end of the night when the dust has cleared and the battle has been fought there will be one man standing with his arm raised high in the air along with the NHBWO World Championship, Shawn Michaels and Triple H once I've beaten you tonight "You'll be living in the Shadows of Defeat"!!!
HBK drops the microphone and drops to his knees. His music hits and the fans erupt in to yells and chants. As they cheer and yell for him he holds the belt close to his heart and looks up into the heaven's. He raises his hand to his mouth, kisses, it and blows the kiss into the air. He holds out both fists and begins to pray. As he stops praying he jumps to his feet and climbs out of the ring. Running up and down each side of the rampway he holds out his hands for the fans to slap. He once again reaches the top of the stage and looks on into the sea of people crowding the arena. Shawn points to both sides of the crowd and slowly backs up. As he slowly disappears behind the black curtain they begin to chant the three most famous initials in NHBWO history, "H........B.........K"
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Ryan Beyer
Mid-Carder
[M:0]
There's Blood in the Water
Posts: 314
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Post by Ryan Beyer on May 6, 2006 23:56:51 GMT -5
The Hindenburg [/size][/b][/center] The camera pans in on a large room, empty other than one man. Ryan Beyer stands inside the room where the Saturday Night Main Event celebration had taken place. There are cups on the floor, paper plates scattered throughout, a broken window, and some tables left standing, while others are leaning against a wall, waiting to be put away. There is an utter silence, only disturbed by the crushing of debris under Ryan Beyer’s feet. He shuffles toward the door, and coincidentally, the camera. Crossing the threshold, he signals with two fingers for the cameraman to follow him.
Four heels click, the timing out of rhythm and off-beat, entering the parking lot. The camera switches off before entering a car. When the camera is turned back on, the men have gotten out of the car, and are at the NHBWO arena. The Dante-like passing of time is perplexing to those watching. The men begin walking to the wrestler’s entrance. Ryan Beyer takes out a key, unlocking the door. He walks down a hall, telling the cameraman to wait as he enters his old dressing room. He rolls out a large figure, covered in a black cloth.
Continuing down the hall, he makes his way through the familiar curtain, being followed by the camera into the dimly lit arena. He walks down the ramp, the large object pulling ahead of him. Upon stopping before the ring, Ryan Beyer tilts this masked structure on it’s side, sliding it into the ring. He slides in after it, picking it back up. After placing it in the middle of the ring, he begins speaking to his invisible audience, which has packed every seat in the arena.
Ryan Beyer: ”No Holds Barred Wrestling Organization seems to be a place where legends come and legends go. The problem is not the coming of these legends, but the going. Ah, what the title ‘legend’ can do to a person. You think you’re some form of a god, a man immortal. Your naïve ego inflates like the Hindenburg, just before sending you to the ground in a rain of all-destroying fire. Then you pick up your pieces, only to find that you’re all too broken, unable to be repaired, and there is no looking at yourself in a mirror after that. There is only hiding, from yourself, from your past, and from your future. I do hope that you will sit through my digression this evening.”Click Here to See a Video of the Hindenburg Disaster Only the dim spotlight cast over the ring shines in the arena, the rest is pitch black, seeming as if there is a black hole engulfing all light but that in the center of the ring. The clothed structure Ryan Beyer paces before waits ominously. It waits until the time when it will be unleashed, peering deep into the souls of all who dare look it straight in the eye. Ryan Beyer, who is, as always, dressed in khaki pants, has his black sleeves rolled up, and his button-up shirt slightly undone at the top, showing the red shirt under it. As always, red Converse make his every step, and his blonde hair is ruffled. His appearance shows that it has been a very long and exhausting day.
Ryan Beyer: ”Christopher Nowinski, back in your day, you, along with NHBWO, were things of glory. You were powerful and great, just like Vince McMahon’s company. However, the winds of time have eroded both. NHBWO is now broken and destroyed, but the winds to do that were not those of time, but of Ryan Beyer. Shawn Michaels and I shook NHBWO at the foundation until it crumbled under it‘s own weight. With you, Nowinski, the force that makes you crumble will be Ryan Beyer.” The pacing stops, but the light tapping of shoes carries an echo through the arena, which then falls silent. Ryan Beyer looks deep into the camera, squarely, a distinct flame in his eyes. He turns to the figure, slowly stepping around it, encircling it like an interrogator. Stopping at it’s side after completing a two-hundred and seventy degree turn, Ryan Beyer pulls off the cloth with great theatrics, turning his back to the underlying object. It is a large, moveable mirror, reviewing with it’s belligerent eyes the invisible spectators surrounding it. Ryan Beyer paces in front of it, stopping right before it, his backed turned to the mirror.
Ryan Beyer: ”Don’t you hate looking into yourself? On the outside, you look like a great spectacle, but on the inside, you are a broken man, Nowinski. You’re old, tired, and cracked. Chris, I am going to be the one that makes you fall to pieces. Look deep into this mirror, and admit to yourself that you are not what you once were. The stone that once made you great must turn to sand, Chris. Nowinski, I will be the one to crush you into tiny bits of yourself, bit by bit, moment by moment. I’ll take every minute from you Nowinski, and at the end of our match, it will be Stolen Moments.” With this, Ryan Beyer quickly turns around, sending his fist through the mirror, which shatters like the stars. Beyer pulls his fist from the broken wood and glass, dripping with blood, which he seems to ignore. He shakes his hand off, many pieces of the mirror falling from his arm. There is a hole directly through the wood where Ryan’s fist was, and most of the mirror has fallen, but there are still many parts of it still in tact. Ryan Beyer turns back to the camera, ready to explain his actions.
Ryan Beyer: ”I’m sorry, Nowinski, but I can’t let you see yourself in your condition. All the torture in the world could not equal what you would see. And when the time comes, you will thank me. I can face myself knowing what I am, but you, Christopher, are too afraid of that second existence hiding beneath your skin. You’re bruised and broken, and it can only get worse from here. I have no problem tearing you apart limb by limb at the Reunion. Stay in the sun too long, Nowinski, and the wind will wear you away. Searching his pocket, Ryan Beyer pulls put a long, silver blade. He steps down the ring steps, heading to the stage. Instead of walking through the curtain, Beyer turns, heading to the side of the stage. Swinging off of the platform, he begins climbing to the top of the screen. Pulling and gripping, he finally makes his way to the middle of the screen. His voice echoes through the arena, his arms outstretched and his head held high. The knife, waiting for it’s duty, sits still in the right hand of Ryan Beyer.
Ryan Beyer: ”The end is near. Nowinski, I will be the reason you crash, exploding in your mid-flight, sinking to the earth like a man falling from a cliff. The crash landing will be the greatest to watch, a spectacle of wrestling hitting the ground with such force that he breaks to pieces, where the winds will break him away. When you’re cracked and begging for some form of mercy, that will be the end. You will know, in the silence of time, you will know when the end is here. And so that you do not have to go through the anguish of looking to this screen and seeing yourself, lifeless, I will do you one last favor Nowinski. Just know that after this, you will have to look carefully at yourself, as you are the next Hindenburg. Finally, Ryan Beyer begins walking to the side of the screen, and gets onto his knees. Instead of climbing back down, he impales the knife into the screen, pushing it down as far as he can. He pulls the knife out, then brings it back to the top of the screen. Slowly crawling across the top of it, Beyer cuts the screen at the top, finally coming to the other side. The tearing of the fabric echoes through the arena as Ryan slices through it. He cuts downward again at the other side, then returns to the middle. He tosses the knife behind him, then grabs the screen with both hands.
He uses his weight to propel himself downward, the screen tearing at each side, it’s anguish being heard throughout the arena as it desperately calls for help. However, it is too late; it’s end is here. Continuing down, the screen ripping well, Ryan Beyer lets go with one hand, but still hangs on with the other. As he hits the stage, there is an explosion under his feet, setting the screen on fire as it collapses over him. The camera looks on in awe as the screen burns, until drops of water begin falling, and a monsoon occurs in the arena. Drops are seen on the camera lens, distorting it’s view of the disaster. Finally, the camera cuts to abruptly to static, then again to black.[/size][/I][/center]
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Post by "The Game" Triple H on May 8, 2006 16:59:19 GMT -5
[glow=limegreen,2,300]A Visit To Pain Itself[/glow] *The camera looks up to the sky, golden dots fill the blackened sky, and the big round full moon glowing onto Earth, the sight, beautiful. The NHBWO camera man pulls the camera down as he stands alone in the lonesome parking lot, where only two or three cars sit and several piles of snow grouped together throughout the parking lot, constantly twisting and turning, it seems as if the camera man is possibly awaiting someone, his breath, easily seen in the cold, winter night as it floats up into the sky. He begins to pace around a little bit almost slipping on the chunks of salt, used to melt the snow. It is not yet known why he is in the parking lot or where the parking lot is. Suddenly, a red Hummer is seen speeding about seventy miles an hour on a small road, where the speed limit is thirty-five. The camera man quietly states, out-loud “What the…?” The enormous vehicle speeds away, past the parking lot as the camera man breathes a sigh of relief. Unexpectedly, the enormous red vehicle speeds back, this time taking a sharp turn into the parking lot. The nervous camera man starts to run, constantly looking back to get some footage of the crazed driver. The camera man runs and runs as the red hummer comes closer and closer. The camera man falls into a hill of snow and starts backing up. The towering automobile makes a sharp turn and spins into the parking space right next to the snow mount, nearly running over the terrified camera man. The man inside, hidden by the darkness around him signals for the camera man to get up. The camera man almost instantly realizing who it is gets to his knees and hauls the camera out of the snow as he gets to his feet he brushes the snow off of the lens with his fingers. He slowly approaches the car, thinking “What the hell was he thinking?” He gets to his tippy toes, still barely able to get footage though the window. The fascinating vehicle has leather seats and so many buttons, it looks like an airplane. The camera man barely adjusts the camera, pulling his arms as far as they would reach him, attempting to reveal who is hidden in the darkness, but fails at his attempt. The mysterious man turns his body to the right, pulling for something both of his arms randomly moving as he burrows through the back seat. He pulls out a sledge hammer, at that moment almost every fan knows who it is. The mysteriously covered man presses one of the million buttons on the red hummer as a light slowly overtakes the vehicle. The light reveals a lifeless, motionless Triple H, sitting in the driver’s seat, the sledge hammer in his lap and all of his hair covering his face. Triple H puts his hand though the window opening in his car door, his car window fully open. He tilts his head slightly; some of his blonde hairs falling behind his head, and looks at the glowing sign of the hospital, stating, “Greenwich, Connecticut Hospital.” Several of the letters are not even lighting, like the “e” in Greenwich, and many more; the lighted letters oddly spelling “Green cut Hospital.” Triple H rubs his beard and picks up the sledge hammer, without any pause, he opens the door to his enormous vehicle and steps out, looking down at the ground as his hair droops in front of his face. Triple H is wearing a black Cerebral Assassin “cross t-shirt,” black jeans, an expensive watch and black boots. Triple H takes a deep breath as if he just came back to life, he places the sledgehammer against the polish red Hummer. Triple H removes his watch and throws it onto his seat in his car, then slams the door closed; the force causes the sledgehammer to fall to the ground. He picks up the slightly moist sledgehammer and slowly begins to approach the heavily guarded hospital, 4 security guards, with guns stand in front of the door, only allowing people who need hospital attention inside. Triple H smacks the sledgehammer head into his hand as if it is a beating stick as he walks down the vacant parking lot. The four security guards pace back and forth. They constantly turn around when reaching a bush at the side of the hospital entrance and walk the other way, they move as if they are robots. Triple H walks right past them as if they don’t see him. “Hey! What are you doing, get away from the door!” the first security guard screams as he slowly pulls his black beating stick out of the side of his belt. Triple H turns around with a pissed off look on his face and hits the security guard in the gut with the sledgehammer. “Stop right there!” The security guard commands as he puts his hand on his gun. Triple H bites down on his teeth and charges at the security guard; he hits the end of the sledgehammer right on his forehead, and the security he slowly falls into unconsciousness. The third security guard runs at Triple H, Triple H instantly sees him and ducks down, flipping him over onto his back on the concrete. Triple H turns around to the fourth and final security guard; the security guard drops his stick and barely stands on his two feet. He looks down at the ground, urine is on the floor, he looks up at Triple H embarrassedly. Triple H turns around and walks through the automatic doors. The security guard falls into a round bush and wipes his forehead “Ah, thank god,” the final security guard states in relief. Triple H walks down the hallway, past the assistance/sign in desk. The female sitting at the desk yells, attempting to get Triple H’s attention “Sir, sir!” Triple H walks straight down the hallway, not even paying attention to the insignificant yelling of the woman. Triple H, with his sledgehammer on his shoulder, walks down the blank, white hallway; a peculiar “hospital smell” gets more noticeable as he walks down the hallway, farther and farther. Triple H takes left and rights as if he knows the hospital. Triple H stops in front of room 312-C. Triple H reveals a sinister look in his eyes; he batters the door knob with the sledgehammer, the door knob eventually falls off. Triple H pulls the sledgehammer back onto his shoulder and steps into the room. Thousands of flowers, chocolates and presents surround a bed, inside the bed lays a man, one whole cast completely covering his whole body and his legs held up in the air to reduce pain; in the background a beeping noise is heard from a near-by heart monitor. Triple H flicks the lights on disturbing the motionless man who simply opens his eyes and looks at Triple H in despair. Triple H simply tilts his head and looks into his eyes evilly. Triple H sits down on a chair for visitors, places the sledgehammer against the bed, puts his forearms on his knees and stares into the helpless man.*Triple H: So… nice day today? *Triple H smirks as he gnaws on his gum, the poor man in the body cast mumbles. Triple H cuts him off as he snickers.* It will be a great day when I win the elimination chamber match and become the world’s heavyweight… champion! *The man inside the cast continues to insignificantly mumble, Triple H ignores him as he turns his head to the camera and begins to speak.*
Triple H: The elimination chamber… a structure made for one thing, one thing only… and that is torture! Very few men enter the chamber… and even less can walk out! I enter this chamber at number three… and I will exit number one! *Triple H points his pointer finger up*
Triple H: Chris Jericho, Raven, Batista, Randy Orton… Ryan Beyer! Take a close look… take a close look at this pathetic piece of crap, laying flat on his back with his legs in the air like some cheap prostitute, take a close look because this’ll be you!*Triple H’s eyes jolt wide open, he points at the camera as he flares his nostrils in anger. Triple H calms down and looks at the man in the cast, staring deeply into the cast as if something was there. Triple H instantly turns to the camera, almost laughing*Chris Jericho! Ah! The ayatollah of rock and rolla! *Triple H smirks as he yells, he continues to speak in a quieter tone.* Jericho, Liberace called… he said he wants his pajamas back! *The man in the cast begins to giggle, Triple H’s smirk disappears and Triple H looks at the man, irritated. The man in the cast realizes Triple H’s frustration and silences* See, you can come to the ring, you can sit in your car, you can be at the hall of fame but please, please don’t embarrass yourself in front of millions of people, by telling them that you… are better me. *Triple H points at the screen as he says “you” then points his thumb at himself when he says “me.”* *Triple H makes a mockery voice of Chris Jericho* Oh well I am Chris Jericho, the ayatollah of rock and rolla, I have band… Fozzy! Well then how about ya’ just go back to your crappy band, because quite frankly, Fozzy is all you’ll have after the elimination chamber! You’ll be out of a job… and you sure as hell will be out of the game! When I was younger, just starting to wrestle, I sat at home, watching the greats of this business, Ric Flair, Dusty Rhodes, Killer Kowalski… where were you? Huh? You were sitting around in your garage trying to learn how to play the guitar! See Jericho, I am on top, because I am the best in this business, and you, you are prancing around here, with you’re your little band and your rock star buddies, and your little fans, and when it comes right down to it, that is all you have! You run your mouth out here every week, saying how in this ring, you are the king of the world, well I have news for ya’, buddy, in this ring… I’m god! You say how much momentum you have coming in to night of glory, but in the end, it’s not gonna’ make one bit of a difference, because in the end the world championship is coming back home… Hell, you can come to the elimination chamber thinking that you are an unbreakable wall all you want, because I am walking in an unstoppable force, and as the song goes I’m gonna’… break the wall down! *Triple H points his thumb down, he bites down on his gum so hard his jaw flinches.* Every time you turn around, I’ll be there, every time you take a breath, I am there, behind you, every second, I am there, stalking you, waiting for the moment… *Triple H looks down to the ground for a few moments, he then bursts his head up.* March 24, Night of Glory, it will be time to play the game!
* Triple H slowly hoists himself out of his seat and paces around the room, constantly passing the man in the cast, reaching the heart monitor, then turning around and walking up to the door. The man carefully observes Triple H moving his eyeballs left to right as Triple H passes him. Every time Triple H nearly reaches the door the man in the cast prepares to sigh in relief, only to have Triple H turn back around and continue to walk in the same path.*
Triple H: *Triple H turns his head to the man in the cast* Shut up! I’m not leaving here any time soon! *Triple H turns back to the camera* Raven… the… “fuck the world” champion *Triple H smirks, while chewing on his gum as he does air quotes* Ya’ see Raven, all you are is some little emo Goth punk who said he wanted to be a wrestler and somehow succeeded… All I here is, “Raven is so scary!” and whenever hear that, I laugh at them because all you are, are mind games! All you do is sit in that little room, writing your little poems and making your little threats. Well, you may scare, Randy Orton, you may scare Masters, hell you may scare everyone in the elimination chamber… but you sure as hell don’t scare me! You like to get in people’s heads make them scared, make them fear your capabilities… But as far as I’m concerned, I see no capabilities…*Triple H walks over to the man in the cast and kneels down, kneeling very close to him* Look Raven, this is where mind games get ya’. I’ve seen absolutely nothing impressive from you, but your odd ability of scaring children, ya’ see that doesn’t get you very far in life, because it stops in your tracks when you reach an obstacle like this! *Triple H gets back up and approaches the camera* I created mind games… they don’t work on me, you better think of something fast because I am not intimidated. You talk about being a disease, well, buddy all you are is the common cold, me, I am the real disease, I am the real virus, I am that little bug in your head constantly hurting you, constantly spreading… constantly KILLING!
*Triple H slowly returns to his seat and plops into it, resting his back. Triple H takes several breathes before continuing to speak. Triple H slightly pivots towards the camera as he begins to speak.*
Triple H: Batista! The beast! The monster! The steroid using animal! Now, you may have beaten me before, but this, this way different than the wrestling ring! Ya’ see… “animal” *Triple H smirks as he continues to speak* size is all ya’ got! But ya’ see size is not a factor in the elimination chamber! Now Batista, I know you’re not very smart, but I think you might know the answer to this question… Steel versus skin… who wins? Steel wins, Batista, you may be six foot six and you may be 320 pounds but you are not only up against five other men… you are up against one mile of steel chain! I will not hesitate beat you to a bloody pulp in that chamber! At the chamber you will see what it takes to play the game… and size sure as hell doesn’t cut it! You will leave the chamber a wounded animal, blood rushing out of your body, and you sure as are not leaving with MY World Heavyweight Championship! *Triple H points at the man in the cast* See Batista, that can be you, as much as you can take, the chamber always wins! Batista, you may be huge, you may be durable, and you may be strong, but the fact still stands, the bigger they are, the harder the fall!
*Triple H pops back out of his seat and slowly paces back and forth several times nearly kicking down the hundreds of wires conected to the heart moniter. Triple H continues walking to each end of the room before stopping on front of the bed. Triple H leans against the bed, paying attention to the impatient man and continues to speak.*
Triple H: Randy Orton, former Heavyweight Champion of the world… but Orton, let me ask ya’ something, do you know what a transitional champion is? A transitional champion is someone who wins the title, by luck, by chance, by what you like to call destiny… And then loses the title at his next title defense. Well Orton, here’s your test! Here is your chance to prove to the world that you are not just a little pretty boy that got lucky! Orton, you may have been my pupil, but I always knew you will never be quite as good as the game! Randy Orton, you don’t deserve to even be in the same ring as me! All you are is a young child trying to live his dream early! Orton, I’ll give ya’ a little mediocre tip. If you so much as blink in the elimination chamber, the next time you open your eyes, you will see yourself in a hospital bed just like this guy! *Triple H points at the man attempting to intimidate Randy Orton* Orton, just run while you can because the game is spreading and the game has no problem running over you! Now, I bet you’re sitting at home, assuring your family that I’m full of crap and that everything will be okay but I can feel you tremble all the way from here! Randy Orton, I am warning you, be prepared to face facts! Hold on tight, cover your eyes… because the truth hurts!
*Triple H walks back over to his seat and bends down picking up his sledge hammer and raising it onto his shoulder. Triple H continues to pace back and forth, then stops in front of the camera, still holding his sledgehammer on his shoulder. Several moments later Triple H begins to say his closing statements.*
Triple H: “The Masterpiece” Chris Masters, twenty two years old, just a boy, just a boy and already the World Heavyweight Champion. See Masters, kid’s like you make mistakes like that. The second you became the Heavyweight Champion of the World, you made a big mistake! You got my attention, you got in my way! People, who get in my way, become my enemy! Masters, just like Randy Orton, you don’t belong in the same ring as me! You know, I know, every fan knows that you can’t hang with me in this ring! *Triple H confidently spreads his arms out in front of the camera.* Chris Masters, you don’t deserve the title you wear; hell you don’t even deserve to speak my name! See kid, Masterpiece’s have flaws… they break very, very easily! The second you step into the elimination chamber, the second you look me in my eyes! You will shatter into millions of pieces like the flawed “Masterpiece” you are! *Triple H points at the man in the cast.* Look, Masters, does that look like a masterpiece? They should change your name to “The broken piece” Chris shatters because, Chris Masters this is a shadow of what’s going to be you! Masters, you’ve been going around convincing everyone of a “Planet Masters” *Triple H does air quotes with his free hand, not holding the sledgehammer.* Well, “Planet Masters” is just a small little rock over shadowed by Planet game… over!
* Without any pause, Triple H walks over to the door and places his hand on the door knob, about to turn the knob and leave the hospital, a sigh of relief is heard from the man in the cast. Triple H pauses for a moment and then turns back around and walks back to the camera, the man in the cast moans miserably.*
Triple H: *Triple H holds up his pointer finger.* One more thing… Vince… McMahon! Our problems began when you screwed me out of MY title! I am done being your little body guard, and I sure as hell am done saving your ass form trouble! You made a mistakes that went unnoticed but now, but this time, you’re gonna’ get what coming to ya’! Vince, after I win the World Heavyweight Championship I am coming straight for your ass! *Triple H points at the NHBWO camera.* *Triple H pushes the camera man out of the door and closes it on him. The camera man tries to open the door but fails, the door is locked. Randomly 3 loud bangs are heard from the room. A never ending beep is heard, the man in the cast is flat lining.
*The NHBWO camera man panics and constantly tries to open the door. He takes a step back and takes a deep breath. Just as he is about to charge into the door, the door mysteriously opens. The camera man curiously walks in only to find Triple H standing over a bloodied beaten corpse and a piercing never ending beeping noise from the heart monitor. The camera man nervously takes several breathes. Triple H takes the sledgehammer and chucks it down to the floor, his hair covering his face.*Triple H: Randy Orton, Chris Masters, Batista, Raven, Chris Jericho… Vince McMahon! I just have one question for you… *Triple H flings his hair back and stares deeply into the camera.* …are you ready to play the game?!*Triple H jumps off of the bed where the lifeless, motionless body lays. He looks one more time at the camera, then at the corpse, he pushes the camera man aside. Triple H walks down the hallway the same way he walked in, constantly taking lefts and rights, as he walks farther and farther the beeping noise dyes down. Triple H reaches the last part of the hallway, the sliding doors in the near distance, several doctors and the nurses run past Triple H rushing to the lifeless man, in hope to save his life. Triple H turns around and smirks, proud at his action. Triple H turns back around and walks down the long hallway, past the sliding doors, the security guards gone from the scene. Triple H begins to walk slightly faster, almost running. Triple H leaps through the snow and quickly shoves his car keys in the slot. He opens the door and quickly sits in the car. Without wasting any time Triple H turns on the car and revs the engine, the engine making a thunderous noise in the quiet town. Triple H quickly zooms out of the parking space and drives out of the parking lot, the camera man stands, unaccompanied watching the final remains of Triple H's segment. Triple H drives down the road, slowly disappearing in the distance, seconds later sirens pierce through the wind, police cars zoom past the parking lot chasing “The game."*
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Post by "HBK" Shawn Michaels on Apr 27, 2007 17:49:40 GMT -5
We're suddenly taken to San Antonio, Texas on a tranquil night. Not a cloud is in sight, and shining bright above us are the stars. As the stars twinkle in the night, we take a look around. Standing before us is a legendary place where a great battle was once faught. As we gaze in awe at the legendary building, dirt is softly kicked around and blown about.
Slowly stepping into view is San Antonio resident, Shawn Michaels. A legend himself stands here on this ground where people once gave their lives for. Shawn slowly walks around, just looking. He then stops, and begins to speak with us - looking on from behind."The Alamo - once a missionary church turned battle ground. It's said that over six-hundred people died defending this place, and today it still stands. Those six-hundred people didn't win the battle, but here....still standing is the place they faught for. Kind of ironic if you think about it. The Mexican army marched here to San Antonio, Texas to stop the rebellion and take control......yet Texas is still not part of Mexico. I'm sure the Mexican army thought they won this great battle, but deep down.......they won nothing. The Alamo still lives on......the Alamo is still standing, and now in history books, the Alamo lives on as a legendary story about Texas and how brave men gave their lifes for it. Shawn pulls his hands from his pockets and slowly moves forward. He pulls on the rickety doors, and slowly opens them. The creaking doors echo in the night as Shawn steps into the old building. We follow close behind, as to not stray very far from him, and as he walks he speaks."Just like the Mexican army back in 1836, Randy Orton is trying to kill something......he's trying to kill the legend of "The Heart Break Kid" Shawn Michaels. Randy, we've got a match at Unbreakable, but are you prepared? Are you prepared for a journey of deliverance and remembrance? Young Randy, there is a lesson - just waiting to be learned. So come with me.......and learn something."Shawn continues on walking and slides his hand along the wall."Just placing my hand on these walls can shoot so many images into my head. With all the stories I've heard about this place, I can see the brave men that faught for the Alamo - fighting hard and dying for what they believed in."Shawn walks up a shakey set of stairs and walks through a door way. He is now on the roof, exposed to the beautiful night sky."Looking up at the night sky brings so many things to mind......such as why I live the life I do. Why do I do this? Why do I put myself through so much pain and punishment? I'll tell you this....it isn't for money......it isn't for fame....it's for sheer love. Randy.....ask yourself this.....how long are you going to live? And when the day comes.....when you pass from this world to the next.....where will you be? Where is the after life going to take you? And Randy......what of you will be left here on Earth in remembrance? A legendary tale of how you overcame so many things or a horrid nightmare of how you tried to kill off everything in sight?"Shawn steps onto the stub of a wall, and sits down. He then stretches his legs out and lays back - hands behind his head."Every day I try so hard, but ya know, it's just never enough. I'm all out of energy, and I'm just sick and tired of screwing up. I sit here hiding scars - pretending to be tough, but deep down......deep down I know that this act I put on - it's all just a bluff. The world will knock you down.........and the world will take you out, but theres not one person in this world that's gonna live forever.........A soft rumble echos in the distant as a flash lights up the sky. A herd of clouds, almost like a stampede of cows, suddenly fills the sky. The rumble of thunder grows nearer and nearer as the soft flashing of lightning flickers in the night. A soft pattering rain begins to fall as Shawn sits up. He looks into the sky and holds his arms out as the rain falls down."When I'm so sure I've got it down, strong and confident, as if I were king of this town - down from the heavens God sends a shattering blow. Almost as if I've lost everything....there's no place to go. So these scars I hold in remembrance.....my loss of blood for my arrogance......and I hold out my hands for deliverance.......God will strike you down, and the world will take you........there is no one on this Earth thats gonna live forever......."Left in our minds is the scene of Shawn Michaels staring into the night sky with his hands held out, and the rain beating against his soft face.
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Post by jbp on Dec 12, 2007 4:11:24 GMT -5
Rumble in the Jungle 2007 RP: Joey Leone vs Sam X
He just sits there...quietly drinking the Alcohol from the large bottle grasped tightly in his hands.
"Fire...Such a Powerful thing...It Burns...And it Burns...Until it is No longer fueled..."
These words, said with heartfelt emotion, are heard coming from the soul of darkness. All that can be seen is blackness.
"Everything is gone...Charred...Turned to Ashes..."
A dim light slowly fades in, showing a man gracing a chair, in which sits next to an end table. The sound of car keys jingling together is heard as they slowly swing around the mans finger. The sound continues for a few seconds, until it stops abruptly. The man closes his fists tightly on the keys, and slowly proceeds to place them on the end table. Upon placing the keys, he picks up a large bottle of Whiskey, and brings the hole of the bottle to his mouth. He throws his head back, gulping down the intensely Alcoholic liquid. He lets out a large breath of air, and shakes his head quickly.
"And all that is left are memories...Memories of the home you lived in before the flames flickered across its walls...Memories of your mother...Your father...Before the dancing flames crept in and caught them sleeping...Leaving them no escape until it engulfed them in all its mighty power...
The voice tells you to run for your life...But there is no where to run...The Fire is everywhere you turn...Taunting you...daring you to make a move..."
The man takes another big swig, followed by the same head movement. He grasps the bottle in both hands, and squeezes tightly. He is Joey Leone. A different Joey Leone. He looks sick. He looks afraid. He looks distraught.
"I was out late...partying with my friends. I come home...only to the open arms of the unforgiving flames entrapping my house. It all happened so quick. The flashing lights...fire trucks...police cars...my 3 year old sister crying her eyes out, whilst being held by a Police officer. I tried to run into the now charred up home...to save my parents...but it was too late. Before I could get to the door, I was met by two bodies being carried out...We had nothing. From that point on I was bound to take care of my baby sister."
His grip tightens around the bottle, applying such an immense force, it causes the bottle to shatter completely. The liquid contents spew everywhere, along with glass. Blood starts to pour out of his hands, and he doesn't even care. He stares at his hands, with a blank look, as if there weren't even any pain...as if he weren't even bleeding. He reaches for the keys, and grabs them. He holds them in the air, level with his eyes. He stares at them as his eyes start to tear up.
"The keys to my dads Mustang. All I have left...all that there is too remember..."
Footsteps, running down the stairs. An eight year old girl, puts her hands on Joey's shoulder. She looks around at the shattered glass, frightened.
"Joey, what happened?"
He says nothing. By now he is drunk. Too drunk to hear his own sister.
"Joey? Can you come tuck me in please?
She spots the blood gushing from the open wounds on his hands, and begins to cry. She backs up slowly, staring at Joey in complete horror. He looks at her, turning his head in an almost eerie manner. He stands up, and looks at his hands. His eyes grow dark, as he looks at his sister. He starts to walk towards her, as she screams, horrified. She makes a break for the kitchen.
"Its ok baby. I don't want to hurt you! "
Joey walks slowly towards the kitchen, towards his scared sister, talking to himself.
"The nightmares. The voices in my head. I wake up screaming... No time for goodbye...he said. Don't hide your mistakes...because they will find you. BURN YOU! As he faded away...If you want to get out alive....
As Joey reaches the kitchen, he looks around for his little sister. He starts to wrap his arm around a lot of pots and pans on the counter top, and thrashes them onto the floor.
Oh, run for your life. If you want to get out alive...run for your life..."
He grabs a dish, and launches it at the wall. It shatters upon impact, breaking into thousands of tiny pieces. Upon the falling of broken glass...the door to the cabinet under the counter Flies open as Joey's sister darts towards the living room, hiding under another table. Joey grabs a chair to the kitchen table, picks it up, and bashes it against the wall. He slowly stumbles, intoxicated and half minded, into the Living room, where the broken glass lays from the Beer bottle.
Blood stained pillows line the floor from the open wounds, which are brought to attention as Leone trips over them and falls to the couch. Joey, pissed off and drunk, gets up and yells, grabbing the bottom of the couch. With one immense act of force, Joey tosses the couch. It flies in the air, towards a wall. The force of the couch crashing into the wall, sends all kinds of pictures falling to the ground. A close up of one of the pictures is shown.
The glass frame is cracked, starting in the middle and working its way out like a spider-web. The picture shows a young Joey Leone, and his Father, arms around one another, in greased stained clothes, standing in front of a 71 Mustang. Joey's sister darts towards the phone, but Joey snatches it from the wall, turns around, and launches it. It hits the front door, as buttons and pieces of hard plastic break. Joey turns around, to find his sister gone. He looks around slowly, trying to spot her, until the sound of water shooting out of a shower head can be heard.
His head jerks fast as he looks up the stairs. He makes his way up the stairs, placing his hand on the wall for leverage, making sure not to fall. A close up of the bloody hand print is shown, as Joey begins to speak to himself again.
"Burning on the inside...I can only hope...that I make it to the other side...if I stay...it wont be long...Until I'm burning on the inside...
Joey slowly pushes the bathroom door open, and creeps towards the shower. He reaches his hand out a little bit each step he takes, until he reaches the Curtain. The sound of the water spitting out of the shower head hard against the curtain rains throughout the room, as Joey, quick as Lightning, snatches the curtain and rips it off of the pole. To his surprise, no one is in there. A scream is heard, as his sister runs from underneath the sink and out of the bathroom door. She runs into another room...her room. Joey busts into the room, yelling.
"Don't put your life in someone Else's hands...because they are bound to steal it away..."
Joey grabs a plush bear off of the ground, and twists its head off. He grabs a few other toys on a dresser and throws them to the ground. He stops, staring at the wall. His eyes are fixated...on himself. He stares, deep into a poster of Joey Leone, inside a SNME ring. He clenches his fists, and rips it off of the wall. He takes a half by two hands, and rips it in half, sending it to the ground, torn, and covered in blood. Just then, the sound of a small whimper is heard. Joey smirks, looking around. He grabs the bottom of the bed, and lifts it up, slowly letting it fall to its side. His sister lays there, curled up in a ball, crying for her life...shaking. She begins to pray a soft prayer, as Joey reaches down to snatch her up.
Just then, Joey's eyes grow wide, and shocked. He looks around at the Carnage that he has caused, and falls to his knees. He embraces her in a hug, as the anger within suddenly leaves his body. Her shivers begin to slowly ease, as Joey comforts her, assuring that everything is alright now. Joey hugs her tightly, as the view fixes on Joey's face. He is looking down at the floor, disgraced with himself. The intoxication has ran its course, and its time to make things right.
"Sam X...you are the Alcohol that has taken over my body..."
Joey stands up, slowly letting his sister go. He turns around and walks out of the room, walking down a long hallway. He reaches what seems like his room, as he slowly pushes the door open, gracing it with his bloody prints. He enters the room, slowly making his way to the bed. He plops down onto it, his rear sinking down into the mattress. He sits there, staring at his hands, with such emotion.
"What have I done. Is it my fault? No. It cant be.. Of course not! Its Sam. All this is his doing. Yes. Thats it. Its all him. He has taken over. He is killing me. Driving me mad. Destroying me and the people I love. How did this happen? I know. It was that attack. That ungodly betrayal. The bond broken. What? No! Of course not. I wasn't surprised. I saw it coming. Just not this bad. He is a cancer. He is Evil in its truest form. But where did all this jealousy come from? No..it was a rhetorical question. Sarcasm. He is jealous. Jealous of my looks. My talent. The fact that everything I do in my life is better than anything he could ever amount to. bragging? No. Stating facts..."
Joey falls back,as his back seeps deeply into the mattress. He spreads his arms out across each side of his large bed. The blood on his hands is nothing more than a stain now. A large stain, engulfing the whole of both hands. His stomach goes up...down...abs extending...up...down...he is breathing heavily. His head lays back, as he stares at the ceiling, wondering. Pondering.
"Cracked ribs. Need not worry about those. I'm fine. Physically? I'm hurt. But mentally, I'm perfect. I have never been better. He unleashed it. What do you mean what was unleashed? The beast. The fire. The fire...that killed my parents. That ruined my life. Sam is that fire.. I put my life in his hands....and he stole it away. He is that hate. He is that OBSESSION! And no longer will I feed the hate. No longer will I feed the obsession. I will end it. Kill him? No...hurt him? Of course. How badly? Bad...so bad..he wont walk. He wont eat. He wont sleep. Because he will be in pain. Worse than my pain. How can his pain be worse? My parents were burned. But oh, how pain can intensify. I will show him pain. Pain that was thought unthinkable. Pain that no one has even encountered...or heard of. Quick? No...Long? Yes...Drawn out...Torture? Yes...Blood? Are you an idiot? Are you that dense to ask that question? Buckets. Rivers. Oceans of blood..."
Joey remains laying, staring at the ceiling, still talking to himself. Does he have split personalities? No. He isn't crazy. He is just fueled by anger. Anger and hate that shadow his mind, corrupts his brain. Engulfs his heart. He sits up slowly, keeping his head down. He rests his head against his hands, muttering something.
"I like to keep this inside. Bottled up. No. Caged up. Locked up. Forbidden from being released. But when I am pushed over the edge? It comes out. I cant control it. Sam X..."Evil has a name..." It may have a name...but its damn sure not Sam X. You want evil? Wait until were in the Den. Wait until the beast is hungry. Wait until I am wrapped around your pathetic, limp body, choking the fucking life out of you!
Joey stands up quickly, and rips his shirt off, revealing wraps upon wraps of bandages around his muscular body. He walks around the room, pacing quickly, punching walls. He paces even more. He stops. NO! He keeps going. Back and forth, holding his head, punching the air, swinging at nothingness. He sits back down on the bed, and throws his head back, and his arms extend. He lets out an extreme yell, so loud it seems like the windows are gonna shatter. Veins are showing. Muscles bulging. Anger...hate...hunger...a beast...revealing itself in the form of a man. Joey stares into the darkness of the room, focusing on nothing. Letting all his senses rest.
"Sam X...Run for your life...if you want to get out alive...your the fire...the fire that burned my families house. The fire that has burned inside for all of my life since that moment. And this Sunday, the fire is gonna burn me no more...but instead...it will burn you alive...Run for your life...
Run for your life...
Run...
For...
Your...
Life..."
Joey stares, as a flashback appears on the screen. A house...a beautiful home...a sunny day....turns into a dark day...but not from the dark sky...but from the black smoke. The black fog. The flames...destroying...torching a family. The scene spins and spins and spins..out of control..until it stops...zoomed in on a boys eyes. Fire. It dances in his eyes. With hate. With anger. The boys eyes are lit up by the flaming house. The scene switches to Joey Leone's eyes, flames burning...shifting shape....shifting into the shape of evil. A burning image. A burning outline of a man. A burning outline...of Sam X...
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Chris Jericho
Curtain Jerker
The Ayatollah of Rock n Rolla
Posts: 1
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Post by Chris Jericho on Feb 24, 2008 1:55:14 GMT -5
Every now and then it hits us. We know when we will be defeated, and when we will be victorious. Some times we are left nervous, cringing on every last thought, every single movement, dreading the outcome, fearing the worst. Some times we simply don’t react, and let the fates decide what will come upon us. We sit there and let the sands of time wear us down to little more then physical husk, with no mind or soul to show for it. Sometimes we grab our problems by the horns, and wrestle it to the ground. We let it have no mercy, no quarter, slowly taking it down to the ground, and then standing up victorious. Sometimes we let our victories get to our head, and corrupt our body from within. Our mind gets too wrapped up in our egos, twirling around as if it were in a violent tornado. And then once you know it, your mind is thrown away, lost forever. Then you crack, shatter, break to those who keep their cool, and patiently wait, but try their hardest when it matters. Those of us aren’t necessarily the best in our professions, but we surely don’t let our opportunities go to waste. We go out with a bang, leaving only our greatest hits behind.
A man sits on his old, creaky rocking chair, slowly rocking forwards, and then backwards. A light brown acoustic guitar sits on his lap, his left hand wrapped gently but firmly on its neck, his right hand sitting loosely on the body of the instrument. He wears jeans, and a button up shirt. The man’s face is old, wrinkled by the sands of time. He looks worn out, and is deteriorating. His soft, thin, gray hair is brushed backwards, sitting on the top of his head with a distinguished pride. His eyes are a soft green color, staring out into the world with a gentle vision. He sighs lightly, and slowly begins to strum the chords on his guitar. A gentle, but perfect melody emits from those tight strings on the guitar, slowly drifting out into the world around him. The old man relaxes in his rocking chair as his old fingers lightly strum the chords, soothing the elderly man.
A voice rings out over the air, fresh and precise.
Voice: Time and time again have I fought to prove myself to others. Time and time again have I been doubted in the face of opposition. And time and time again have I failed to follow through on my promises. I am the shell of a great man, a skeleton of a once great animal. I talk through a false mouth, lies pouring through my lips as easily as water flows through it. I see through jaded eyes. In my own world, I am King, but in reality, I am nothing more then a jester to the true King. Kurt Angle. Angle has dominated our business for months, and I was the one who triggered this rampage of dominance. I fell, and I lost my World Title.
We now know that it is Chris Jericho who is behind the voice, but we don’t see Jericho. The old man still sits on his porch, in his chair, and with his guitar. His old fingers continue to strum those chords, the melody now quickening and becoming a slight bit intense.
Jericho: I’ve shot just short, reached out for the golden rung, only to slip. The rung has been torn out of my hands, like ripping a newborn from it’s mother. The World Title, I can’t sleep without it…..it’s like a drug that I am addicted to. I’m going through withdrawal Kurt Angle, and I need my substance back. I’ve proven that I am willing to go wherever needed to prove my point. I’ve attacked you from behind, hit you low, hell, even decked you with your own title. Don’t even for a second doubt that I won’t do whatever it takes to win my World Title back. You know why Kurt? Because I want the title. I want the glory, the fame. What do you want? Unlike me Angle, you have no history. You have no defining moments. You simply were in the right place at the right time. You have no greatest hits, unlike Y2J. Ya see, when I realized I’m half the man I was, I looked back. I looked at my defining moments, and realized if I did it then, I could do it now. I realized that I would make my greatest hits come back to life, revive them, just like I plan on doing with myself. Starting at Night of Glory, a revitalized, reinvented, revived Chris Jericho will be born, and the old one will slip away, only leaving his Greatest Hits behind.
The old guitarist now picks up the intensity of his song, his old fingers now plucking strings like a youthful man. The melody of the guitar is crisp but peaceful. The notes float around the area, only for the man to enjoy. He shifts his head from looking at his instrument, and looks out into the sky. Changing from the normal stare, the man’s eyes begin to strain with a look of anguish in them. They seem to falter, but he remains vigilant in his music, fingers still sweeping the strings of the guitar.
Jericho: My greatest hits are moments that shine through the black in my career. The one’s that define me as a wrestler, and as a man. Kurt Angle, you’ve done nothing but take over SNME in the past few months, leaving nothing behind. But when your reign is ended, there will be nothing to show for it. No trinkets, no moments, just blackness. The man known as Kurt Angle will slowly fade away with only his personal memory, and as he fades away, his legacy will be consumed, devoured, and forgotten by the public. And this….this brings me to my first greatest hit. When I ended your win streak. Kurt Angle, just like now, a year ago you were undefeated. Nobody could stop you. You were intimidating, defeating all of your opponents with ease. But then a man stepped in your path. A man who was not to be intimidated. The Lion Heart. I took all of your momentum, all of your drive and used it against you. I made you self destruct, and I defeated you. Since then Kurt, you have been just like me. Broken, defeated, and bitter. But Kurt, I don’t run on momentum alone, like you are doing. While I may be a shell of my former self, I still have the desire to be the best, something that is missing. And Kurt, come Night of Glory, your momentum will be reversed…again. And I will beat you….again.
The guitar’s melody increases, and becomes even more intense. The strings twanging so firmly that the sound is rapid. The old man’s eyes continue staring out into the blue, cloudy sky. His wavering green eyes begin to swell up. Soon enough small tears begin to slowly trickle from his eyes down his cheek. The liquid shell on his eyes glitters in the light, like a sad star about to disappear. But yet, he continues to play his guitar with the vigor of a young man, but the skill of an artisan.
Jericho: Angle, when you took my title, you took my heart. You took what I fought so dearly to secure, and you took it after 59 minutes and 50 seconds of hell. We wrestled to the end and back, but you came out on top. You knew you would, and your confidence blinds you even now. You overlook me, thinking I am nothing more then a 30 minute roadblock, but in reality, I am your worst night mare. I creep in the back of your mind, like a shadow looming over your thoughts. You never took me seriously Kurt, I never was a threat like the others were. In your mind, I simply was holding your title, like a butler with a mixed drink on his tray. But Kurt Angle, you had the joy of taking the title from someone who wanted it. Because when I beat you at Night of Glory, I will be prying the titles from cold, dead hand, from the hands of a man who couldn’t care less, bringing me to my next greatest hit. Debuting in Saturday Night’s Main Event. Kurt, I joined this fed because I cared, because I wanted to succeed. I was forced to the top, and fought for everything, unlike you. You took advantage of the situation, much like I would do now. We aren’t so different when you think about it. You parallel me. In Saturday Night’s Main Event, when I was at the top, when I was main eventing, you were still coming into the business. But now, a year and a half later, look how it has changed. Kurt Angle, you have never been the under dog in your life, you have always seemed dominant, but at Night of Glory, that all changes. I am going to make you my bitch, and I am going to slap the invincibility right out of your bald head. And I am going to take your spot as King.
The elderly man is now at the peak of his pace. His fingers strum the chords so fast, and so firm that the melody is strong and bold, a tune that flows out perfectly, his eyes now swelling with tears. He does not try to hide his tears, of whatever they may be. Instead, he looks down and at his savior, his perfection, his guitar. The man sits still in his chair as his old fingers rip apart those acoustic chords, drifting away into another world.
Jericho: Kurt Angle, this is what it’s all about. The pride, the glory, and the gold. You have your gold, and you have your glory, but you don’t have your pride. Your mind is crippled, and I am going to put it out of its misery. I will finish the job I started one year ago. I will take the World Title for the third time. And this…this brings me to my greatest hits. When I won the World Championship. Some say it was destiny, some say it was luck, but I disagree. I say it was my will, my independence, and my will to survive when the odds are stacked against me. Both times against men larger then me. Once with a man who was thought of as the greatest in our business, much like you. And the other with my best friend. Kurt Angle, you may have taken MY title, but you will never take my pride. You will never rob me of these moments, these greatest hits.
The pace of the guitar suddenly halts to a slow, peaceful strum. The old man rocks back in his chair slowly as the once intense melody leaves, now a soft tune gracing the world. The tears stop, but there are still signs of sorrow in his visage. The wrinkled old fingers slide up and down the chords, producing music fit for gods.
Jericho: Kurt Angle, at Night of Glory, your dynasty, your empire will come crumbling down right underneath you. Like the assclown you are, you will not be able to escape the Walls of Jericho, and you will lose. You were right Angle. It isn’t about goofy one liners, or nicknames, but it is about doing, and that is exactly what I plan on achieving this Sunday. Because when Kurt Angle is defeated, the memory will be gone, lost in the sands of time….but Jericho…..Jericho will live on through my greatest hits.
The old man slowly comes to a stop, his old, aching fingers rest on his lap, as does his guitar. He leans his head back, and shuts his eyes, and drifts away. The screen fades to black.
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