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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:07:38 GMT -5
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:08:25 GMT -5
Only the Privileged...
12th June 2006 We fade in to a single shot of a door, located in a hallway of some sort. The doorway has a nameplate on it that reads "Wild Bill Legend" on it. A hand reaches from off-screen and knocks quickly on the door. The camera pulls back to reveal FWF Interviewer Linda Myles, holding a microphone. She sighs deeply, indicating that she's been here, knocking for a while, to no avail. She looks to the camera, rolling her eyes.Linda: (muttering.) Who does this guy think he is?Finally, she turns to the door and raps very hard and distinctly on it one last time. Hastily, the door opens just a bit, and WBL's manager, December Green sticks her head out. She speaks, with a very feathery southern accent.December: (Annoyed) May I help you?Linda, not appreciating the tone, crosses her arms.Linda: Yeah, actually. I was hoping I could get a word in with your man in there.December: (Blinks a few times.) You mean my client?Linda: Yes. Your.... client. Ya know.... WBL?December steps out into the hallway now, pulling the door shut behind her. She's wearing a glittering, very short, red dress, and black stillettos, that make her stand a good five inches taller than Linda.December: (Smiling snobbily.) I, ah... know what my client's name is, thanks much darlin'. May I ask what this is in regards to?[/color] Linda: I was hoping I could get his thoughts on his upcoming rematch with Rage at Live-Wire.[/color] December suddenly lets out a long, and very airy sounding giggle, and begins fanning herself with her hand. The whole reaction has a very put on and disrespectful feel to it. Finally, after a moment, she stops and looks at Linda, with an expression that says she could break out laughing in the interviewer's face again at any moment.December: Now, see, this is exactly what I find so incredibly endearing about you silly lil' interviewer types. You always ask the most vague, goofy, airy-headed, dimwitted questions you can possibly come up with. I find it adorable. (Her smile fades.) My client... WBL... the Messiah of this here lil' watering hole of a federation.... doesn't find it nearly as amusin' as I do. That's why he doesn't allow just any ol' little buxom bimbo like yourself conduct interviews with him. WBL... Mr. Legend prefers specific questions, questions that'll actually allow him to convey his message and give the viewers exactly what they want. Only the privileged are allowed to ask him anything. That's why he only allows myself to interview him.[/color] Linda looks confused and quite insulted.Linda: He only lets his... manager interview him?[/color] December: Pardon moi, darlin'? Manager? Is that what ya'll think I am? Honey, I am much more than just Mr. Legend's manager. I am an exceptionally successful publicist, and Mr. Legend happens to be my pet project. Mr. Legend is an extraordinarily gifted wrestler, and an unparalleled athlete. Couple that with the publicity I could throw his way... he's completely unstoppable. Not that he really NEEDS my publicity of course. His actions in the ring speak loud enough for him. But, I figure I'm just here to spread the word faster. Mark my words, hon... WBL's time is comin' and it is comin' very very soon.Linda: (A little incredulous) His time is coming, huh?December: There an echo in here? Or are ya'll just deaf! You heard me. WBL's time is coming soon.Linda: And will we get to hear from WBL himself before his time comes, by any chance, or will you always be there to do all his talking for him.December's smile has vanished completely, and she is looking at Linda now, her impatience growing by the second.December: Hon, you'd best watch the way your talkin' presently. Mr. Legend will speak with the public when and only when he is ready. Mr. Legend does NOT cater to the masses. THEY cater to HIM. When he's ready, he'll allow me to interview him publically.Linda: Well, perhaps when you interview him, you can ask him what it feels like to be such a big blowhard outside the ring, and be such a pushover during his debut match IN the ring.Without warning, December suddenly lashes out and slaps Linda very hard across the face with such force that the interviewer drops her microphone and falls to the ground. December stands over her, venom in her eyes.December: (Through clenched teeth.) You... do... NOT... talk about Mr. Legend that way!A moment goes by, as Linda looks up at December, holding her cheek, a look of shock on her face. Slowly December regains her composure. She straightens her dress, and clears her throat.December: Now see what ya'll made me do? You'd just better be happy that it was me you were talking to, and not Mr. Legend. If you'd talked to him like that, he'd woulda done more than grazed ya with a little ol' slap like that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for the interview that I'll be conducting on Mr. Legend.... when HE's ready for it. Hugs and kisses, darlin.And with that, December reenters WBL's room, leaving a stunned Linda Myles on her knees as we fade to black... |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:09:38 GMT -5
Power and Worth
19th June 2006 As before, a sunny field is shown. Wild Bill Legend, looking "casual" in his khaki's, blue button up shirt, and ten-gallon white hat is shown standing in the field a panting golden retriever at his side. Legend laughs as he throws a frisbee, and the dog goes chasing after it. The whole scene is in slow motion, and superimposed over a billowing, American flag, ala a cheesy campaign video.Legend:
(voice over)
My name is William Legend. And I approve this message.
The scene fades in to show a rather simple, but well lit room. The walls are all a pleasant, earthy, beige color. Against the wall furthest from the camera is a simple, small table, with room only for a single vase, out of which a single, red rose protrudes. In the center of the room, directly across from each other are two, ornate looking, oak chairs. Occupying the chairs are FWF manager and "publicist extraordinaire" December Green, and her client, the self proclaimed "FWF Messiah" Wild Bill Legend. December is dressed in matching grey mini-skirt and jacket, looking very professional. WBL is of course wearing his usual very expensive suit and cowboy hat, as well as a pair of very expensive looking, black, snakeskin cowboy boots. The whole thing looks very much like a 20/20 style interview. December turns to the camera, smiling pleasantly. In her hand, she holds a notebook.December:
Good evening ladies and gentleman. I'm, of course, December Green, publicist to the stars, but I'm sure ya'll knew that. And tonight I have a special treat for all ya'll. Yes, the rumors are true. My man, my esteemed client, the single greatest athlete on the planet, the former, record holding seven time CAW Heavyweight Champion, and the new Messiah of the FWF... the illustrious WBL, Wild Bill Legend has finally decided to break the silence, and give you fans exactly what you've all been clammoring for... an exclusive interview. In the interest of avoiding any disrespectful or incompetent questions, the interview will, of course, be conducted by myself. [/color] December turns to WBL, smiling pleasantly.December:
WBL.... if you don't mind my callin' you that... you just come off a VERY decisive victory over the man called Rage who, up until recently, was boasting a so-called "incredible" undefeated streak. So tell us... how does it feel to jump have arrived on the scene so quickly and already have established yourself as such a dominating force.[/color] WBL smiles at the question, and does his best attempt at looking bashful.... which, coming from him, isn't very convincing.WBL:
December, you'd be surprised at how often I hear questions like that. But, see, the fact of the matter is, I've gotten so used to the feeling of being so dominant... it really just comes naturally to me. I wasn't surprised that I beat that incompetent, road-kill eating filth at all. December, the honest to God truth of the matter is, that when nobody holds a candle to you, by any stretch of the imagination, the feeling of being a dominant force.... you really barely bat an eye at it.December:
So, your victory over Rage came as no surprise to you?[/color] WBL begins chuckling and shaking his head, as if he found the last question very amusing.WBL:
No, December. None whatsoever. The only surprises I've had in this little fed thus far, are the sheer incompetence of its officials. I mean, that referee that "called" my first match with Rage... if you could CALL it that... either had no idea what the hell he was doing, or Rage paid him off... or maybe threatened him into calling the match like he did. Either way, the entire match was skewed and, as far as I'm concerned, never happened. I completely consider myself undefeated thus far in the FWF.[/color] December:
And rightly so. Any fool could PLAINLY see how biased that match was.[/color] WBL:
Exactly. And I think last Thursday was a true testament to that. The blatant lack of competence the official displayed during that match... THAT caught me offguard. That was the only way Rage was able to pull off ANY sort of cheap victory over me. You see, the fact of the matter is Rage, aside from his complete lack of talent, has one thing going for him.... an intimidation factor... well... and a sympathy factor... I mean, even I kind of feel sorry for him... but, that's beside the point. The point is, Rage relies on this intimidation factor to psyche out his opponants. But I.... I am intimidated by no man. And certainly not by this... this.... El Mundo character...[/color] WBL pauses a moment, a mock thoughtful expression on his face.WBL:
December do you... do you even know who this El Mundo guy is? The name doesn't really ring a bell.[/color] December shrugs.WBL:
Ah well. I did just get here. I mean, I'm good... actually, I'm great.... but I can't perform miracles. You can't expect the talent roster to instantly become chock full of somebodies just yet.... I mean, just my presence, has of course bumped up the entire respectability of the FWF's roster... but, as far as I'm concerned, they're still all no talent nobodies, and they still lack two essential things.... the very two essential things that set me apart from each and every one of my fellow athletes....[/color] WBL gets very serious now, turning away from December and looking straight at the camera.WBL:
Power.... and worth. Two things that Rage.... and this.... El Mundo lack considerably.... and two things that I have in spades.... I am a VERY wealthy man. I am the CEO, Chairman, and Owner of Legend Petro. One of the single largest oil producing companies in this country. I am a multi-millionaire. I am self made. I am a former bull-rider, one of the most jarring and punishing sports, one that even gives THIS sport a run for its money. And I am a former seven time CAW Heavyweight Champion. Seven times.... My worth is beyond that of any..... other..... man in this entire federation. And with that worth, of course, comes power. Exceptional, unbridaled power. I am incredibly powerful.... in the business world... and, of course, in the wrestling ring. I am unparalleled. No man is my equal. My worth makes me exceedingly powerful. And my power makes me totally and absolutely worthy. It's what makes me a champion, a god, and a Messiah of this sport. It.... is what makes me Legend.[/color] Throughout this entire last portion of his speech, WBL has gotten very intense. By now, his eyes are wide and blazing.WBL:
So, El Mundo, I'll tell you what... I'm going to do you a favor.... I'm going to allow you to continue walking after our match. I will beat you decisively and thoroughly.... but I won't destroy you... easily as I could do it.... I won't. And, in doing so, I'll have made you famous. I'll have made you the man that survived in the ring with WBL and walked away.... eventually. And let me offer you a piece of advice. Watch the tapes of what Rage did during my first match here. Watch how I got screwed. Go ahead. Watch what Rage pulled.... and make absolute certain that you do not follow in his footsteps. Because what Rage did, was make it very, very personal. And you do not want me to get personal. I am a very pleasant man when dealing in business. When something get's personal.... it's a whole different ballgame. People get hurt when they make things personal with me. Ask Rage. El Mundo.... I advise you to take your medicine, accept the severe beating that I will have to administer come Monday.... and then get the hell out of my way. Because you'll either get famous as the man who survived.... or as the man who didn't.[/color] WBL then falls silent and turns his gaze back to December. He nods, beginning to calm down a bit. December nods back, smiling and turning to face the camera herself now.December:
Extraordinarily powerful words from an extraordinarily powerful man. But, I'm afraid that's all the time we have for now. WBL, I'd certainly like to thank you, as I'm sure every last one of the folks that, bless their hearts, tune into watch this lil' ol' fed chug along.[/color] WBL nods.WBL:
It was my pleasure December.[/color] December:
As enlightening as this interview has been, WBL's actions speak a LOT louder. Just tune in Monday to see for yourselves. But until then, I'm December Green, publicist to the stars saying.... g'night, ya'll![/color] And with that, the scene fades to black... |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:10:34 GMT -5
No publicity is... well... no publicity
10th July 2006 Kid Rock's "Cowboy" hit's the P.A. System, and the capacity crowd immediately begins booing, even before the self-proclaimed "Messiah of the FWF" steps through the curtain. WBL, dressed in a very expensive looking suit, snakeskin boots, and his trademark cowboy hat steps out onto the ramp, and without pausing, marches straight toward the ring, microphone in hand. He has a very angry look on his face, and, uncharacteristically, is also alone. December Green is nowhere to be found.Briggs: Yeah! Here he comes, folks! The Messiah of the FWF! Legend: The SELF-PROCLAIMED Messiah of the FWF, let's not forget. Briggs: Does jealousy run rampant in your family, or is it just you? Legend: Jealousy in my family? What are you talking about? Briggs: Everytime your brother comes out here, you just rag on him! Just because he's more famous than you, better looking than you, more talented than you... Legend: My brother.... what are you...? Briggs: WBL.... you're both named Legend! You can't fool me! Legend: (Sighs) Would you please stop? Briggs: No. Before the banter between the two announcers can continue, WBL reaches the ring steps, walking up them and onto the ring apron. He stands for a moment, and shoots a glare into the crowd, who've by now begun chanting "YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!" at WBL. Finally, he steps between the top and middle rope into the middle of the ring, before finally raising the mic to his lips.WBL: I'd tell you idiots to show a little respect for someone of my calibre, but I understand. I understand that you little cess pool dwellers, who only come out of your trailers once a year to slap down your hard earned year's salary of a whole two dollars and fifty cents to get into these arenas and watch this little hillbilly organization's lack of talent stumble around in this ring, can't be bothered to comprehend what true wrestling talent is. I understand that it's beyond your capacity for thought to grasp just what a master of this craft I am, and how I happen to be the single, solitary beacon of hope for this otherwise destined-to-be-a-train-wreck, ma and pa "Rasslin" outfit. I understand all that. And I truly pity you all. Truly....Legend: If he thinks he's so much better than the FWF, than why is he here? Briggs: Uh, duh! Because he feels sorry for us! He's trying to put us on the national scene! Legend: Our last Pay-Per-View was in TOKYO! We're on the INTERNATIONAL scene! Briggs: It's complicated, J. I wouldn't expect you to understand.... anyway, shut up! He's not done talking! After WBL's comments, the crowd is obviously displeased, and they begin showing it by ending their chante, and simply (and incessently) booing and jeering, trying to drown WBL out. WBL grins at this, but after a moment, his grin fades, and again is replaced by a scowl.WBL: However, just because I understand your lack of respect, and just because you have my pity does NOT mean you don't need to SHUT... YOUR...DAMNED.... MOUTHS.... WHEN I'M TALKING!!The crowd refuses to cease, but WBL continues anyway.WBL: You see, weeks ago.... during our last Monday Night Rampage so-called "event"... I was once again cheated and robbed of what rightfully should have been MY victory when, ONCE AGAIN, the FWF's illiterate, uneducated, impotent, incompetent in-ring officials prove just how worthless they are, when, even after the illegal use of a chair, the BLATANT illegal use of a chair, my opponant, El Wahoo, or what the hell ever his name was, he WASN'T disqualified! Even after he smashed the chair into my poor, defenseless, publicist's beautiful face, the ape-like, blind, deaf, and stupid referee did NOT call for the bell!Legend: Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't WBL's publicist, December Green, the one who introduced the chair into the match? Briggs: I WILL correct you. Yes, you ARE wrong. Legend: I don't think I am... WBL continues.WBL: I find it attrocious that such an assault on women goes unpunished in this company. El Deutschee smashes the nose of a beautiful woman, in true caveman fashion, and gets away with it, scott free. Of course, I'm not surprised, but I am appalled no less. Not that the women in this federation behave any less barbarically.Legend: Oh, here we go... WBL: The fact that this federation ALLOWS the male competitors to step into the ring in matches against the females is enough of a travesty.... but the fact that the women are ignorant enough to think that they can get into the ring with the men is downright appalling.The volume of the boos reaches an all-time high.Legend: Wooow.... THAT will not make him popular... WBL: Oh face facts, you backward, white trash, morons! Women lack the stature and the physical ability to compete on the same scale as male competitors, even with FWF wrestlers! They're just going to end up injuring themselves, but hell, if they're stupid enough to try to wrestle a man, they deserve it. But, I digress..... back to what El Rico did to my poor December.... Thanks to his brutal attacks, my publicist will be requireing surgery to repair the severely damaged cartilage in her nose. She will be unable to accompany me to ringside during my match this week, against Steve "Never Heard of Ya" Jackson.Legend: Boy, he certainly does enjoy this fantasy land where he's never heard of any of our talent. WBL: So, El Jub Jub, I'm going to say this once and once only. I demand... I ORDER you.... to publicly apologize for what you've done. I know it might be against your Zimba Wumba Cha Cha code to apologize to a woman... it's probably regulation back in the old country for you to slap around the females.... but as long as you're wrestling in WBL's ring, you'll obey WBL's VERY American rules.... and you WILL apologize... and you will know this... I may have better things to do at the moment.... but what's between you and I ain't over.... eventually, I will get back to you, and you will get exactly what you deserve... But, as of Monday, I have more pressing, and immediate matters to concern myself with... if you can call it concern.... namely, Mr. Jackson. Jackson... the FWF assigned you a bad night. Because tomorrow night on Rampage, I do not intend to let ANYTHING get in the way of my absolute and complete victory. I will NOT allow crooked or moronic officials, or foreign objects, or ANYTHING to cost me what I deserve more than any man... or woman... in this federation: complete and absolute victory. An example must be made, and unfortunately for you, you just happen to be the wrong hillbilly in the wrong place at the wrong time. I almost feel bad for you Rayzer... almost... but see, if you had any sense of intelligence in you, you'd simply refuse the match and forfeit to me. You'd simply surrender, save yourself the beating, and allow the example to be made out of the next moron foolish enough to step in the ring with me. But it doesn't appear you'll be doing that.... proving just how stupid you are, and proving that a total beating is exactly what you need. I have no pity for the ignorant and even less for the stupid.WBL addresses the crowd now.WBL: And you sewer dwellers can boo it and cry about it all you want, but the fact of the matter remains that I simply am the single most talented athlete in this company. More talented than Rage or El Jocko or Jack Stevenson or whoever! I am the Messiah of the FWF! And no matter how much you monkeys pretend not to realize that, it won't stop me from continually proving it day in and day out in this ring! I will leave my mark on the FWF! Mark my words, the Era of WBL is rising into full swing and there is nothing ANYONE can do about it!!!And with that, WBL's music begins again, and the "FWF Messiah" drops his mic, exits the ring, and walks out of the arena.... |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:11:39 GMT -5
Why I’m Here...
14th August 2006 A cemetary. It is late afternoon. Rain pours down in sheets. A flash of lightning, followed by a loud burst of thunder. Slowly, coming down a gravel road in the center of the graveyard, is a black limo. It suddenly stops, and out of the right passenger door steps December Green, wearing a short, very nice looking black dress, her nose still bandaged. She hastily opens an umbrella, and steps around to the other side of the limo. She looks a little bewildered as she reaches down and opens the left side. And of course, out steps WBL, dressed in his usual suit and cowboy hat, over which he wears a very expensive looking black trenchcoat. He pulls the coat closed, buttoning it, and trudges off into the heart of the cemetary, a stern look on his face. December struggles to keep up, doing everything she can to keep the umbrella over WBL's head, despite the fact she herself is getting drenched in the process.December:
Bill what... what're we doing here?WBL:
Shut up.The two continue walking, and it becomes apparent that they are heading up on an incline. They're heading up a hill. WBL walks in long, quick strides, his gaze locked straight ahead. The few rain drops that have managed to escape past the umbrella December is desperately trying to keep above the Messiah's head spattering onto the brim of his cowboy hat and dripping over the edges. The headstones they pass grow fewer and far between until, finally, they reach the top of the hill, where only two, very large and ornate headstones stand. The smaller of the two is grey stone, a sobbing angel adorning it. A message is displayed above the name. "Ascend on angel's wings, oh tragic beauty, to the Heaven that awaits you". The other headstone towers above it, carved from a sleek, black marble. Morbidly, and frighteningly enough, the figure perched atop this headstone is far less beautiful or comforting than it's neighbor. It is the hooded and cloaked angel of death, holding an hour glass. The message below it reads "Forgive him, Father. He lost his way." WBL stops, standing before the two headstones, paying particular attention to the menacing black one. His stone cold gaze hasn't faltered. December's look of confusion has changed into a look of fright. There is a long silence, until finally...WBL:
Do you know where we are?[/color] December:
A.... cemetary?[/color] WBL sighs.WBL:
Brilliant. Do you know the significance of this cemetary? [/color] December looks at him for a long moment, clearly still very confused and a bit unnerved at the reason why they apparently just dropped by the cemetary. WBL, again annoyed with her apparent cluelessness, sighs again.WBL:
Why don't you have a look at the NAMES on these two tombstones?[/color] December looks back to the headstones, then to the umbrella she holds, then to WBL. WBL sighs a third time.WBL:
In case you haven't noticed, I'm really not all that concerned about the rain at the moment.[/color] With what seems to be her bosses approval, December moves forward with the umbrella and kneels down to read the names on the headstones. She gasps when she sees them.December:
These're your....[/color] WBL nods.WBL:
You're so very astute...[/color] On the smaller, grey headstone the name "Kathleen Mari Legend" is etched. And on the large, marble headstone, the name "Jonathan William Legend" is etched.WBL:
My parents....[/color] A low rumble of thunder rolls overhead as WBL continues.WBL:
They were interesting people, my parents.... my father built his company... OUR company.... MY company... from the ground up. Legend Petro. My mother... stood idly on the sidelines, supporting his every whim, sacrificing everything to make him happy. It never went unrewarded.... monetarily speaking. My mother had EVERYTHING she could ever want. Money. A huge mansion. Several, actually, all over the country. And an enormous beachhouse in California. A private jet. Legions of servants waiting on her hand and foot. The worlds most expensive jewelery. Hand sewn dresses from the finest designers Paris, Rome, London, and New York City had to offer. She had everything. Everything except for one thing....[/color] WBL's gaze narrows, his eyes becoming slits as he bores holes in his father's grave with his eyes.WBL:
Her husbands love. He was too busy building his fortune, building his empire, and running it to perfection. He couldn't be bothered by things like loving his wife.... or his son. And my mother...[/color] He sneers, turning his gaze to the other headstone.WBL:
My mother was even more worthless. She obsessed over trying to please my father, hoping against hope that one reason, the husband who'd stop showing her any affection whatsoever the day he'd set out to start his fortune would, for some inexplicable reason, become the man he once was and fall madly back in love with her. She the last completely meaningless years of her life doing nothing but trying desperately to get that moment. She ignored everything else in the process.... and once again... their child was the main casualty. My father cared about absolutely nothing but his empire... he didn't care for his family... nothing... which was why his relatives decided to stick him with this... ah.... particularly unique... headstone. They'd felt he'd become souless and evil. This... headstone was, I believe, an... apology... to.... whatever higher power there may be, I suppose.[/color] December listens to his story, mesmerized now. She's never heard WBL talk about his past before. WBL is, needless to say, not the type to reminisce...WBL:
These people.... my parents.... these.... ruthless.... self-absorbed... selfish.... ignorant people.... these were the parents fate dealt to me, December. These were the people that "raised" me. It wasn't until I started getting older that my father even started treating my like I existed. But he didn't treat me like his son. He didn't treat me with anymore warmth or affection than he did my mother. He treated my like a business associate. I was his heir. I was his legacy. That's all he cared about. He wanted to make sure that his company, his name, and his fortune lived on. And in order to do that, he had to make sure I was ready for that. THAT was the extent of my relationship with my father. Which was, of course, more than I ever got out of my mother. Once I reached the business stage with my father, I became simply another one of my father's co-workers to her. And as I grew older, their uselessness to me grew more and more.... fortunately, just days before my 24th birthday, fate felt it necessary to relieve me of them.... permanently....[/color] An unnerving grin slowly crawls across WBL's face.WBL:
They never DID find out how that break line got cut on their limosine. I guess that'll just be one of life's little unsolved mysteries...[/color] December's eyes widen slightly at this, but WBL continues, barely noticing her.WBL:
And that was my parents. Most people.... coworkers and relatives.... felt I'd been embittered by their treatment of me. I'd attended their funeral in complete silence, hadn't shed a single tear, and refused to give their eulogy.... most people felt that this was a sign of resentment. But that wasn't the truth at all. The truth was.... that I really just didn't care. I attended their funeral because they were my parents. They're the reason I exist and that was the single solitary debt I'd felt I owed them. But as time went on, I realized something else.... I owe my parents.... everything. They taught me so much about life, so early on. They are what has shaped the magnificent human being standing right here. They are the ones that taught me the futility of relying on others. They are the one's who taught me that I shouldn't trust anyone. They are the one's who showed me how useless it is to form attachments or sentiment for anyone or anything but one's self. They're the one's that taught me that there is only one thing, one single solitary thing that one should strive for, because it is the only thing that, as long as you have it, will never ever let you down. Power.[/color] He turns and glances over at December to make sure she's still listening, before he speaks again, turning back to the headstones.WBL:
I've said it... I've preached it.... all my life, and I'll always stand by it until the day I die. Power is the single solitary most important thing one can have in life. Money and status.... they're all excellent tools.... but that's all they are.... tools for achieving the ends.... and the ends are power. But I.... I took it a step further. I had my father's power. But that wasn't good enough. The best power is that which is earned. So I earned it. I became a wrestler. And I became an excellent wrestler. Say what you will about me.... and they all do.... they can't deny my talent. My athletic ability. Nine times. I am a nine time Heavyweight Champion. I've held other titles as well, but their irrelevant. The best.... the most powerful championships.... those are what matter. And I have the single best opportunity coming my way to ensure my steps toward winning the power I rightfully deserve in the FWF....[/color] Now he turns to December and his gaze stays on her as he continues...WBL:
Predator.... the number one contender to the Heavyweight World Championship.... which, by the way, you did a great job of earning. I've inherited my power on a silver platter too but I took the next step and EARNED more. I'm wondering if my esteemed opponant can do the same. Well, this Monday, I'm going to MAKE Predator earn his spot. This Monday, I'm going to SHOW Predator what it's like to TAKE power by force. His number one contendership isn't on the line, and he'd better be thanking the good Lord above for that one.... but that is, of course, irrelevent to me. I don't need to be called the number one contender after I annhilate him. The facts will speak for themselves. And I'm sure it won't put me in direct line for a title shot. But, it'll put me well on the map. It'll put me well on the picture. And the monkeys that run the show at the FWF CANNOT deny that! Once I destroy Predator, they CANNOT deny my status! I know they'd all like to believe they could. Because if I prove to them what I've been saying all this time, it'll mean total justification for me. It'll mean I was right all along about how I am this companies one true Messiah, and how before me, this ignorant little federation was nothing! As long as the FWF can keep me from the top, they can ignore what I'm saying.... but once I topple their little upper echelon, there's no WAY they can ignore me! Predator says I'm the prey? Well, December.... and you can put this in writing.... when I beat Predator.... and I assure you, it's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when.... when I beat Predator, I'll have proven just who is the hunter.... and who is the hunted.... and December... I just have one last thing to tell you before we leave... Predator is the number one contender to the Heavyweight Title, correct?[/color] December:
Th-that's what you said...[/color] WBL:
So... when I've toppled the number one contender, who do you think logic dictates will become the next one on this hunter's list? Hm?[/color] December just stares at him now. WBL smiles malevolantly, before turning back to his parents graves and sneering. He then turns away and begins walking.WBL:
Alright. I'm sick of this place. We're leaving.[/color] And with that he heads off in the direction of his limo. December.... clearly in shock by all she has learned tonight.... lingers a moment longer, before finally, slowly, following her employer... leaving the two headstones alone atop the hill... |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:15:56 GMT -5
You have GOT to be kidding me!
18th August 2006 The streets, outside of a massive, state of the art office building in Houstan, Texas. A familiar, black limo is parked near in the street, near the building's front entrance. The streets are clogged with people. A good majority of the people are screaming angrily, some carrying signs with things like "Legend is Evil" and "Legend Petro Destroys the Environment" and "Pro-Wrestlers Shouldn't Be CEO's" written on them. Clearly these people are protesters. They are currently being held at bay by security guards in riot gear. Unfortunately, security has been unable to fend off the press. The entrance is surrounded by reporters and camera men. Finally, after several minutes, the front entrance to the building opens, and, flanked by more security guards, WBL and December Green step out and immediately make a beeline for the limo.Reporters:
Mr. Legend! Mr. Legend!!WBL, a look of disdain on his face, ignores them, continuing to push through toward the limo.Reporter:
Mr. Legend! How do you answer to the claims that Legend Petro's Pipelines are unsanitary and unsafe for the environment.WBL angrily snaps.WBL:
No comment!Reporter:
William Legend, how do you answer to the claims that your company funnels funds for upkeep to its freighters, and other means of petroleum transport straight to its board of directors?WBL:
Get off my property! How's that?He, December, and the security guards continue toward the limo. As they near their destination, shouts from the protesters can be heard.Protester:
You're gonna burn in hell, you soulless bastard!Protester:
You monster! You... you... baby seal killer!Protester:
I hope Steph Del Monte beats your ass at Nightmare.WBL suddenly stops. December, looking worried due to how close the protesters are, tugs at his arm.December:
Bill... come on. Ignore them.But, instead, WBL ignores HER. He whips in the direction of the protesters.WBL:
Who said that?! WHO...SAID... THAT?! Which one of you ignorant, single-celled, pond scum eaters said that?!Delighted at the rise they've managed to get out of him, any single response from the protesters is drowned out by the collective insults they all begin hurling at him now. WBL is obviously infuriated, and he no longer continues toward his limo, but stands his ground and shouts into the crowd.WBL:
You ignorant, backwards, primates! None of you has ANY clue what their talking about! Not a single damn clue! Do you know what I represent? Progress! Legend Petro is progress! The entire oil industry is progress! I... AM... PROGRESS! I power your cars! Your homes! Your entire, meaninless ways of life! And do I get gratitude?! Do I get thanks?! No... of course not! Only intelligent, obedient, well brought up children give thanks! Meaningless, backward, heehaw degenerates like yourselves don't even know the meaning of gratitude! You all focus on the negative... the ALLEGED negative, might I add... the minor, insignificant negative that has absolutely no effect on your daily lives whatsoever, and you blame ME for it?! What does any of you care?! What do you care if a few trees die! If a few squirrels lose their homes, if a few useless sea creatures get's poisoned! Even if my company were causing such things... which has YET to be proven.... but let's just say, hypothetically we were, what significant effect does it have on ANY of you people?! Does it really outweigh the fact that BECAUSE of companies like mine, you have power?! You have your electricity, which keeps your food fresh and your clothes clean, and your houses lit and warm. It keeps your vehicles feuled, it gives you all your stupid, idiotic luxuries, your TV's, your video games, and heaven forbid you morons should lose your precious internet!By now, even the roar of the protesters has died down. Most of them still look absolutely infuriated, but none of them had expected a rant like WBL's to take place. Whether they like him or dislike him, they all appear interested in what he's saying.WBL:
I am progress! I am power! I am, for all intents and purposes, you idiots' monarch! It's only because people like me exist, and allow you useless degenerates to have your little toys that you people are so well off. You people shouldn't just be thanking me. You should be bowing down at my feet. You idiots should be worshipping and praising me, for what I give you. But instead, you act like this. Like spoiled, angsty teenagers, who rebel simply for rebellions sake. You all sicken me.At that, the crowd begins to grow a bit more restless, and begins heckling WBL again. Much like the crowds that come to see the FWF's shows, these protesters don't much like being insulted. WBL continues, shouting angrily to be heard over the protesters.WBL:
Shut up! Shut your ungrateful mouths, I am NOT finished! Shut up!!The crowd still looks very unhappy, but they settle down. They seem anxious to hear what WBL says. His rantings seem to make them feel more righteous and justified.WBL:
In order to fully grasp what I'm saying... not that any of you self-righteous nimrods will even attempt to do so... but in order to, you must know not only what I stand for, but what I stand against. And what I stand against, naturally, is that which blocks, hinders, or otherwise gets in the way of progress. As an example, let's use my opponant at Nightmare, Steph Del Monte, which one of you felt the need to bring up, as classy as it is to attack a man for his hobbies, particularly when that hobby as absolutely NOTHING to do with what said man is being attacked for.WBL pauses, glaring around at the crowd, allowing the last part of what he just said sink in, before he continues.WBL:
Steph Del Monte is the pinnacle of what a roadblock of progress is. Oh, she thinks of herself as being very progressive, I'm sure, but let me tell you people something... there is nothing progressive about women who think they can compete on the same level as someone like me. I've said this before, and I'll say it again. Women should NOT wrestle. It's not progressive. It's backwards and it's ignorant. Let me just say that I'd have no problem with women wrestling in their own division. That's fine. Let them continue to try to be like the men in a venue where they won't find themselve greviously injured. But to put them in a ring with someone like me?!He pauses again, and takes a deep breath. He seems to be trying to keep himself calm.WBL:
And don't think I don't know what this is. That I don't know what's going on here. The FWF has gotten tired of me preaching the truth. It's gotten tired of me telling the world what it already knows but refuses to accept: that without me, the FWF would be NOTHING! Once again, in place of the gratitude I SHOULD be shown, I'm given nothing but thankless contempt! Instead of giving me the glory that I rightfully deserve, the FWF has seen fit to try to bury me, by putting me in one of it's freakshow acts, with a WOMAN. Well, tonight, at Nightmare, I'm going to show everyone just what happens when you try to stand in the way of progress. I'm going to show Steph Del Monte what happens when you try to stick your nose where it doesn't belong. And I'm going to show the FWF what happens when you continually refuse to give the devil his due.He pauses, glancing around at the crowd again, who seem taken aback at what WBL's talking about now. WBL grins sadistically as he witnesses the effect he's had on the protesters. Noticing a cameraman nearby, WBL turns in his direction, and speaks directly into the camera.WBL:
Let me make this abundantly clear. The FWF has shown me that once again, an example must be made. And Steph Del Monte.... it seems you've been hand selected to be that example. And make an example out of you I will. Two of us will be walking down the aisle to enter that ring tonight.... and only one of us will be walking out. Del Monte, mark my words. This will be your LAST night as a professional wrestler. After I'm done with you, you won't ever want to so much as LOOK at a wrestling ring again.WBL looks away from the camera and back at the protesters.WBL:
And that's all I have to say to you snivelling little ingrates.And with that, he grabs December by the arm, and hastily drags her forward and into the limo. The protesters, immediately begin roaring in... well... protest, as the limo drives away. |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:16:45 GMT -5
WBL@blogspace.net
28th August 2006 August 27th, 11:27 PM. EST.
Are they serious?
Well, they've done it again. The idiots. The complete idiots.
It's bad enough that you morons out there are blaming me for all your environmental issues. It's bad enough that you people can't be content with all I've done for you, all I've GIVEN you, all I've worked my entire life to do for you. It's bad enough that I spend all my time outside the ring pouring my precious recourses into keeping life moving forward for you simpletons, only to get nothing but ingrateful protests and riots, and false accusations.
But I'm not even being taken seriously in my second profession?!
The FWF really has no clue who they're dealing with. I've proven it to them. I've proven exactly who I am, and what I do. And still this is what happens.
It should come as no surprise, I suppose. People are always afraid of massive change. Even good change. Progress has always frightened the small minded. And rest assured, I am progress. And, the FWF management, talent, and crew have done nothing but proven to me how entirely small minded they are, ever since I got here.
I feel like I'm the first man to walk erect amongst the other ape-like half-men. The first man to discover fire, only to be shunned by the other apes because they fear what I have created.
I AM power! The FWF knows that! I've proven it! And yet, what do they do? They insult me with their brain dead officials who've cost me my only two losses thus far, losses that rightfully should have been victories!
They continually put me in matches with losers and nobodies who have NO BUSINESS in a ring AT ALL, much less in a ring with people like ME!
They put a WOMAN in the ring with me, for Christ's sakes! A woman! The backwards barbarians put a woman in the ring with me. Don't they understand what I could've done to her?! They saw what I DID do to her.
Idiots. Pure, simple, idiots.
I beat the Predator. I BEAT the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER TO THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP.
No. Even more than that. He IS the Champion now. I have PROVEN. I HAVE PROVEN.... FACTUALLY PROVEN... that I can beat, I HAVE beaten our current Heavyweight Champion of the World.
And still, the idiots put me in their freakshow, nobody matches. I'm scheduled to face Cahoon Capone, or whatever the hell his name is.
Who?
Exactly.
But the more I think about it.... the more I wonder if the FWF management is truly to blame. Well.... let me rephrase that. They ARE to blame. ANYONE who stands in the way of progress is to blame. But, the FWF management are, for all intents and purposes, puppets....
Puppets to the masses. To YOU ignorant primates! You people can't appreciate ANYTHING! You cry for electricity, for showers, for your precious TV shows and cars and computers and air conditioning. And graciously, I give it to you. And you turn on me.
I pour my heart and soul, my blood, my sweat, my tears into mastering the art of wrestling. Into becoming the Olympion, the godlike athlete, the shining beacon of hope, the Messiah this sport has been crying out for... and you idiots turn on me.
You people.
You ignorant, blind, stupid people...
And so, another example must be made. An example will continue to be made. I will continue annihilating every nobody that is put into the ring with me... not just defeating.... DESTROYING... breaking bones, rupturing organs... ending careers. Until I am taken seriously.
Predator. I beat you. Heavyweight World Champion... I beat you. In my minds eye... that makes ME the number one contender. And it's only a matter of time until I decide to cash that in. It's only a matter of time until I decide to come gunning for what you have.... for what you have that is, for all intents and purposes.... MINE.
And it doesn't matter what kind of jokes or distractions the FWF throws in my way.
The end result, the end destination... will always be the same.
I AM the Messiah of the FWF. More than that, I am the Messiah of this entire industry and (this one's for you, Gangsta Mak) I AM the King of this Hood! And when I reach that end destination... and I assure you... it IS a matter of when, not if.... when I reach that end destination.... there will be absolutely no denying that I am, EXACTLY who I've always said I am.
And THOSE, ladies and gentlemen (and I use those terms VERY loosely), are the FACTS. |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:17:39 GMT -5
Instability
6th October 2006 The sky is filled with stars. The scene is the rooftop of a massive skyscraper. Legend Petro national headquarters, what was called by a cynical journalist in his editorial as "the braincenter of one of the largest malignant tumors on the planet", in Houston Texas. Standing atop the building, dressed in his usual attire, his expensive overcoat billowing in the wind, is the Chairman and CEO of Legend Petro and professional wrestler, William "Wild Bill" Legend. His dark eyes stare inently into the star-filled void before him. His face is plastered with a menacing scowl. His eyes slowly drop the the city-scape far below him, almost disdainfully, like a tyrant gazing upon his abused empire. He doesn't react when the door leading to the rooftop flys open behind him, and a dark haired man, maybe in his mid-thirties, enters, with WBL's publicist, December Green trailing quickly behind him. The dark haired man looks furious. December looks very worried.Man:
(angrily)
There you are!December:
I tried to stop him, Bill! I know you said you didn't want to be disturbed, he wouldn't listen.WBL sighs, his eyes closing in exasperation as he reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose. He mutters under his breath.WBL:
Worthless...Slowly, he turns to December and the man, who're now much closer. The man stands just a few feet away from WBL, his arms crossed, his scowl rivaling WBL's.Man:
Where in the hell have you BEEN all night?WBL sets his jaw, and looks as though he is trying to restrain himself. He blinks a few times, before responding, his voice quiet and saturated with menace. He speaks slowly. December looks very uncomfortable.WBL:
I've been up here, Philip. I didn't wish to be disturbed. I still don't wish to be disturbed. Is there a problem?Philip looks surprised by this response. He blinks a few times... shakes his head... and stares a moment, before asking, incredulously.Philip:
Is there a problem.... is there... a problem?!A long, tense, moment of silence goes by.WBL:
I don't like repeating myself...Philip shakes his head again, as he responds, his tone extremely patronizing.Philip:
Yeah, Bill. Yeah, there's a problem. Ya see, there're these little things in the world, profit driven organizations really, known as corporations. Sometimes, these corporations are headed by governing bodies known as Boards of Directors. Now, these boards of directors take their jobs VERY seriously. Their jobs make them a lot of money. They're all very wealthy. Typically, boards of directors are headed by what's known as a Chairman. Incidentally, the chairman has the most to gain or lose in this whole process. Now, occassionaly, the board of directors likes to get together with the chairman during a little process called a meeting, in which everyone is assured all is well. But do you know what happens when the chairman decides to just NOT show up for these meetings? The Board suddenly becomes convinced all is NOT well. And an enormous amount of pressure falls on the shoulders of the Chairman's vice-president.Another long, tense moment goes by. WBL's face is shrouded by the shadows from his hat, but December looks absolutely terrified after all that Philip has just said. Undaunted, Philip presses on.Philip:
Now... would you mind explaining to me... just what in the HELL... was so important that it required you to skip the board meeting earlier so you could sit out here and watch the fucking stars?!Yet again, another long moment of silence.Philip:
I am... waiting for an answer, Bill.WBL:
How dare you...Philip:
Excuse me?WBL's response is louder now, though still eerily calm.WBL:
How dare you speak to me like that, you miserable, bloodsucking, disease. I turned this company into what it is today, and I will be God damned if any of the sycophants I created talks to me like that.Philip:
Ya know, Bill, this Draconian bullshit might work with the other....WBL:
SHUT UP!For a moment, WBL's sudden outburst has silenced everyone on the roof. Philip looks taken aback. WBL begins walking toward him, slowly.WBL:
Do you want to know why I came up here instead of attending that pointless meeting? Do you? Honor. Dignity. Pride. My legacy. I know none of these words have any meaning whatsoever to a disgraceful peon like you, but to men of true power, men of true worth, men like me who are sadly so few and far between these days, these words mean everything. Do you have any idea what tomorrow is?Philip's eyes narrow. It would appear he knows exactly what WBL means, but he feigns ignorance.Philip:
Friday? Theeee... sixth of October?WBL is now inches away from Philip. To his credit (and maybe stupidity) Philip hasn't budged.WBL:
Tomorrow is Collision. Tomorrow is the five on five team match. Team Taylor.... against Team Ross.... of which I am currently affiliated.Philip:
Of course it is.WBL:
It is a day that has been so long in coming. A day when I will be vindicated. A day when I will finally be able to strike back at all of my enemies with one key blow. Walker asked me to join his team. Walker knew that in order to win, he'd NEED me on his team. To the trolls in the FWF, whether they will admit it or not, I am a shining deity. I am the single, solitary, true athlete amongst them. A god among insects. Their messiah. Walker knew this. He KNOWS this. And that is why he invited me to join his team. For him, my presence their is to help him strike the deathblow in his war with that incredibly feeble Dan Taylor. But for me, the match is so much more.WBL speaks with a very dark intensity, one that is slowly beginning to unnerve Philip, though the signs aren't quite visible yet. WBL continues.WBL:
Normally... normally, I wouldn't have had anything to do with this team. I don't care... do not give a damn. About Ross Walker, or his schoolgirl catfight with Taylor. X-Ecutioner... someone who couldn't even walk away from a fight with the wWo... does not impress me either. This... Poison? Three words: she's a woman. She has no place in the ring, as far as I'm concerned. No... normally I'd have nothing to do with this... motley crew. However.... the other team... this is where the difference comes in. The other team is captained, as I said before, by Dan Taylor. Dan Taylor and I.... we aren't strangers. And, he has crossed me. He robbed me of a victory.... just as they all do. Blindsided me.... because he knew he had no other means of defeating me.... and took from me a small piece of my dignity. Dan Taylor is a marked man in my eyes... he doesn't, however, compare to some of the other members of his team.... members like the Predator. The false champion. Predator is pathetic. He's a very poor excuse for a wrestler, and every second he holds the FWF Heavyweight Title it becomes more and more worthless. He is a stain on what it is to be a champion. I defeated him. While he was the number one contender. I soundly defeated him. I defeated him. He defeated Taylor. This proves that I have the capacity to defeat Taylor, were it not for his use of illegal interference. This also proves to me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am the RIGHTFUL Heavyweight World Champion.... The first signs of discomfort begin to show on Philip's face. It is obvious to him, through WBL's rantings, that there isn't something quite right about the "Messiah". His obssessions with refusing to believe he's been defeated almost border on the manic. WBL continues, the intensity in his voice increasing with each word.WBL:
And then of course, there's El Munco, the Useless Has-Been Failure of a World Power Nation Champion, which is an adequately fitting championship for a voodoo practicing, barely conscious, cro-magnon man. El Mundo disgusts me. He is the polar opposite of progress, the polar opposite of decency, dignity, class, and most importantly, the polar opposite of me. He too has stolen victories from me on more than one occassion, and I stress stolen. El Mundo cannot defeat me in a straight up fight. Of this I am completely certain. He uses underhanded, savage tactics, like accosting women to steal his victories. There's nothing I can say about El Mundo that I haven't said before, at this point, and as I said, I don't like repeating myself. What is coming to him, has been a long time so. And I cannot wait. And finally... there's this new little tick, latching onto everyone else involved in this match... Pain.... Pain decided, one day, that he was tired of being the useless, washed up, has been that he is. So of course, in order to make a big splash, he targeted me. But of course, he lacks the fortitude to challenge me himself. He waits until he has four other morons to hide behind, and THEN starts calling me out. He is the worst kind of low. The kind that has no decency, dignity, honor, or talent of their own, so they parasitically feed off of those around them to get by. Completley. Utterly. Pathetic. More than anything else, I am going to take extreme pleasure in smacking that no-talent primate around the ring, humiliating him, and utterly crushing him.WBL turns away from Philip now.WBL:
I will admit.... that having... technically... lost to Mundo and Taylor in the past, have dealt blows to my legitimacy. Predator being the champion is an insult to my honor. And Pain is just begging for someone to show him how terminally pitiful he really is. As you can see.... tomorrow is my chance to regain everything in one fell swoop. For me to prove once and for all, for the FWF, for the entire world, to see, that I am EVERYTHING I say I am. Tomorrow is potentially one of the most important nights of my career... and I must be absolutely and completely focussed on it. So, maybe you can understand why I've made the choice to ignore one of the countless, pointless meetings we have every single day...Philip:
Understand... yeah. Yeah, I understand alright. I understand that you're putting what is obviously more important, what should be MOST important to you on the backburner in favor of this idiotic, hobby of yours! I understand that this obssession of yours is going way to far. I understand that you are completely insane!His eyes flashing, WBL suddenly wheels on Philip, grabs him by the lapels of his suit, and forces him against the retaining wall of the roof. His patience has obviously run out. WBL forces Philip backward so his shoulders and head are over the edge and facing the 80+ story distance to the ground.WBL:
Do not ever.... EVER.... SAY THAT TO ME AGAIN.... YOU HAVE NO IDEA.... NOT A SINGLE GOD DAMNED CLUE... AS TO WHY I DO WHAT I DO! I WILL NOT HAVE MY DECISIONS NOR MY STATE OF BEING QUESTIONED BY ANYONE.... DO. YOU. UNDER. STAND?!And with that, WBL, pulls Philip forcefully away from the roof's edge and hurls him to the rooftop floor, before storming away, not waiting for a response. After a few moments, he's gone, exited through the rooftop's doorway. December stands, silently, a somber expression on his face. Philip shakily gets to his feet.Philip:
He's.... he's completely crazy.... I knew this would happen! His father was crazy.... his mother was manic depressive... we all know what his sister's like.... it's in his blood. You... you can't deny it anymore! He's completley insane!A long moment goes by before December shrugs. She speaks quietly.December:
All the more reason to just do what he says and stay out of his way...And with that she follows her employer and exits the rooftop as well, leaving Philip shaken and alone.
Fade to black... |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:18:41 GMT -5
The Thing That Should Not Be
08th December 2006 "Of such great powers or beings there may be concievably a survival....
a survival of a hugely remote period when consiousness was manifested, perhaps, in shapes long since withdrawn before the tide of advancing humanity....
forms of which poetry and legend alone have caught a flying memory and called them gods, monsters, mythical beings of all sorts and kinds..."
-Algernon Blackwood The camera fades in.... the South Dakota Badlands. It's an almost otherworldly, alien scene. Dry, unnaturally colored rock juts skyward from the parched, barren land. The sky is that purplish, reddish hue of sunset and indeed the sun can be seen on the horizon, taking one last peek before it disappears behind one of the red banded, Jovian mountans of the Badlands.~Messenger of fear in sight
Dark deception kills the light...~ The scene changes to show a lonely, narrow, dusty road cutting through the Badlands. A familiar limosine is parked on the side of the road. Several hundred feet from the road is a large, and distinct canyon, jagged, like a scar on the earth. A worried looking December Green can be seen through the open, rear driver's side door of the limo. Standing outside the limo, gazing out toward the canyon is WBL. Rather than his usual business attire, he is clad in a denim button up shirt, with the sleeve's rolled up to the elbows, khaki pants, and hiking boots. His trademark cowboy hat is still however on his head.WBL:
That's where he is. Down there. Hell of a hard man to track down...December:
He lives... down there?WBL grins.WBL:
He sure does. The Badlands Abomination. He's barely human, some say. Hell, some don't even believe he exists. They feel safer thinking of him as an urban legend...December perks up at this and speaks, a hesitent relief in her voice.December:
How... can you be sure he does exist?WBL rolls his eyes and glances back at her.WBL:
Trust me, twit. He exists.December:
Oh...She falls silent, and for a moment, nothing can be heard except the low whistling of the wind. After a long, tense moment of silence, WBL speaks again.WBL:
I'm going down there.December:
But-WBL:
Stay here.December:
Okay, but what-WBL sighs, and before she can continue, turns around and shuts the limo door in her face.WBL:
(Muttering.)
Completely useless...He sets off toward the lip of the canyon, his boots crunching in the dust...~Hybrid children watch the sea
Pray for father, roaming free...~ We catch up to WBL just as his feet hit the floor of the canyon. He's breathing heavily, beads of sweat rolling down his face, despite the rapidly dropping temperature. His hands are dusty and torn from his trek down the wall of the canyon. The light has almost completely faded now and the first twinkling of stars is beginning to show up in the sky. On all sides loom the wall of the canyon. In the distance, on the canyons floor, a light can be seen. WBL removes his hat, and wipes his brow, before continuing onward, toward the light.~Great old one
Forbidden site
He searches
Hunter of the shadows is rising
Immortal
In madness you dwell...~ As WBL nears the light, it becomes apparent that it is emitting from a macabre looking, little tin roofed, run down, shack-like cabin, located almost dead in the center of the canyon. The light shines from a single, dusty window. In front of the cabin, is a chop block, a very large axe imbedded in it. Judging by the surrounding area, and peculiar stains on the block, it isn't used for chopping wood. Off to the side of the cabin is a small, equally rickety tool shed. White paint chips off its walls. It's door smacks open and closed in the wind. As WBL get's closer, he can see the shadow of something hanging from the ceiling of the little shed, inside, as its door opens and closes. He focuses on it... just as a shot rings out, and a tuft of dust no more than six inches from WBL's feet explodes. WBL jerks, but he stands his ground. Stepping out of the shadows from the right side of the shack is a HUGE behemoth of a man, holding a smoking rifle...~Drain you of your sanity
Face the thing that should not be!~ The man is very tall, at least seven feet, and massive. His head is shaved bald, and a pointed beard juts from his jaw. His shoulders are covered in tribal tattoos. He wears a black tank-top, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. There is a very dark, malevolance about him, the air immediately around him almost seeming unnaturally dark. His yellow eyes are narrowed and focussed squarely on WBL, as is the barrel of his gun. He speaks with a drawl, his voice low, rumbling, and primal...Man:
Now, I go to all this trouble to isolate myself, keep myself away from everybody, tryin' to mind my own business and get a little privacy, and still nosy little thrill seekers like yourself gotta come prowlin'. I don't much care for strangers pokin' round my territory. You got about five seconds to explain yourself before you disappear and no one ever finds you...WBL has his hands up now, and though wide-eyed, a smile slowly creeps across his face.WBL:
Azmodai, may I presume....?The man pauses, and his look changes from one of rage to one of surprise. He spits off to the side before speaking again.Azmodai:
Where the fuck did you hear that name? Ain't no one called me that since... a long long time. Who the hell are you?WBL slowly lowers his hands. His amused expression has completely replaced his shocked one.WBL:
My name is William Legend.Now it's Azmodai's turn to look surprised. Slowly, he lowers his gun.Azmodai:
Legend... hol-ee shit...
(He smirks.)
You're Jack Legend's boy, aintcha?WBL nods.WBL:
That's right.Azmodai chuckles now, slinging the rifle over his shoulder. He begins trudging toward WBL.Azmodai:
Damn, boy. I ain't seen you since you were barely a bulge in your momma's gut. It's been a real damn long time since I seen your parents. How's your old man been?The remark about how long ago Azmodai said he "saw" WBL is bizarre, considering that Azmodai looks to be younger than WBL. WBL, however, doesn't react to the comment at all.WBL:
(Shrugs.)
He's dead.Azmodai laughs at this. It isn't a happy sound.Azmodai:
That so? Shit... your old man was one wicked mother fucker. Didn't think there was enough human left in him to die...
(He gestures toward the door of his cabin.)
Why doncha come on inside?
(He grins wickedly.)
We'll chat. Catch up on old times and whatnot?WBL:
I'd rather not.Azmodai laughs again.Azmodai:
Suit yourself, man. Just to warn you, though, now that the sun's gone down, it's gonna get awfully cold out here.WBL sighs. As is the case in most situations where he doesn't get directly to the point quick enough, he's begun to lose patience with the situation.WBL:
Look, I didn't come all this way to chit chat about old times, or talk about the weather. I came here because I have a business proposition for you.Azmodai raises his eyebrows. An amused expression crosses his face.Azmodai: A business proposition, huh?WBL:
Yes. You know and I know that you had an agreement with my father-Azmodai scoffs bitterly now, cutting him off.Azmodai:
Right. An agreement. If that's what you wanna call it....WBL glares at him for a long moment, clearly displeased with being interrupted. Finally he speaks again.WBL:
I know you've done jobs for my father in the past. Now, I'd like you to do one for me now. I'm part of an organization, a wrestling organization called the FWF. It's a miserable, two-bit promotion full of lowlifes and hacks. I joined it for one reason, and one reason only: to prove that I could bring even something as mired in mediocrity as the FWF out of the ashes and into the light. That I could take something so pathetic and turn it into a force to be reckoned with.Azmodai:
Christ, you talk a lot. Just like your old man. Alright. So you're in this wrestling federation. That's great. Good for you. All manly and whatnot. The fuck's that got to do with me?WBL's eyes narrow.WBL:
The single largest problem with the FWF is its complete incapability to recognize true talent. It gives titles and positions of stature to those that the primates in the audience screech and fondle themselves over, but gives those of us who truly deserve it nothing, simply because we don't lavish adoration and praise upon its incompetant audience. As a result, I've found myself mired in pointless, useless match after pointless, useless match. Currently, they have me locked in a best of five series with a particularly contemptible little cretin named Pain. This abomination-He pauses, glancing at Azmodai, who has risen an eyebrow at this comment.WBL:
I beg your pardon... this... disease... has been a particularly obnoxious annoyance. He rants and raves about past accomplishments, being very fond of thrusting them lewdly in my face every chance he gets, though he's done absolutely nothing noteworthy since I've met him. The truth is, he's an utter has-been. A completely hollow shell, devoid of any kind of integrity or talent whatsoever that has chosen to pick a fight with me knowing it might spark a chance of putting him on the map again. Through a sickening manipulation of events, Pain has unfortunately managed to already score one unjust, undeserved, stolen victory over me. This kind of... embarrassment... cannot and will not be allowed to happen again.There is a long moment of silence... Azmodai simply looks at WBL expectantly.WBL:
I need an insurance policy. Someone with me, someone by my side, to make absolutely sure that such a travesty does NOT occur again. Someone to help me make an example out of Pain to the FWF to finally show them once and for all that I deserve bigger and better things! That I will not stand there and take it while they line up peon upon peon in an effort to keep from me what is rightfully mine! And if they insist on continuing to shove simpletons in my face, I will simply take the simpletons out of the equation... permanently.... and I need this example to start being set this Saturday... at Black Out. And this, my friend... is where you come in...Once again WBL pauses to allow what he's just said to sink in. Clearly, Azmodai isn't impressed with FWF Messiah's "dramatic pauses" as he rolls his eyes and scoffs.Azmodai:
Who the fuck do you think you are, Charlton Heston? Keep going for Chrissakes...WBL glares.WBL:
Do I have to spell it out for you? I want to contract your services, you idiot! I want you to accompany me to the ring on Saturday! More than that, I want you to keep an eye on me at all times, and make sure absolutely nothing happens to me between now and the end of this best of five series. I know you can do it! I remember the stories my father used to tell about you...Azmodai looks at WBL for a long moment, cocks his head off to the side, spits, then shakes his head.Azmodai:
Forget it, junior. The deal I made all them years ago was with your daddy. You ain't got nothin' on me, and I don't owe you nothin'. Get the hell off my property...He turns and begins trudging back to his cabin. WBL's face lights up with fury, but he clearly is trying to keep himself in check. This isn't a man he wants to make angry. He calls after Azmodai.WBL:
I can make it worth your while!Azmodai calls back over his shoulder.Azmodai:
Your money might by you all the happiness in the world back in Oil Land, but it ain't gonna buy you but jack and shit out here.WBL:
I'm not talking about money. I'm talking about the debt.Azmodai suddenly stops, though he doesn't turn around. The grin begins to return to WBL's face again.WBL:
You know... the debt. The debt you owe my father. The debt you owe this family. If you help me now... you can officially consider your debt paid back in full.Azmodai turns around to face him. A moment of silence goes by.WBL:
And don't bother trying to bullshit me into thinking you don't care. I now the ramifications of what it is exactly you owe my father.Azmodai stares, before spitting again.Azmodai:
You're serious.WBL:
I'm always serious.Another pause.Azmodai:
You swear?WBL:
Hand to God, Buddha, Krishna, Allah, and the devil himself.Azmodai considers this for a moment, before nodding.Azmodai:
Alright. Fine. Come on inside and we'll work out the details over a drink...WBL pauses uncertainly. Azmodai grins.Azmodai:
Come on, I ain't gonna bite ya. Can't touch ya, remember... debt and whatnot.Slowly, hesitently, WBL follows him, casting one last glance at the shed, whose door hasn't stopped flapping in the wind. Azmodai follows his gaze.Azmodai:
That? That what's botherin' you? That's just my smoke house. Where I store and preserve my slaughters. Ya know... pig... sheep... some beef....
(He grins.)
Some... other kinds of meats.WBL shakes his head.WBL:
Ya know what? Don't. Really. I'd rather not know.Azmodai laughs. It's not a happy sound...*~Later~* We see December Green leaning against the side of WBL's limo, hugging herself and rubbing her arms, trying to keep warm. Suddenly, something catches her attention. Two figures heading toward her from the mouth of the canyon. One of them, she recognizes as her employer, WBL. The other.... she tenses up at, completely unable to move at the sight of him. The two reach her, and WBL opens the rear driver's side door and looks to December.WBL:
I got what I came for. Get in. We're going.December doesn't move. She simply continues staring at the second, massive figure. Finally she stammers out....December:
Th-th-thats...?Azmodai steps forward, speaking, cutting her off.Azmodai:
Azmodai. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma'am.December doesn't move. Azmodai laughs.
It's not a happy sound. |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:19:45 GMT -5
Dead Men...
18th December 2006 Note: This RP takes place moments after WBL's latest conversation with his favoritest commisioner in the whole, wide, world, Joe Stall. We open to a locker room, in name only. It is a very well furnished locker room, with a very expensive looking couch, a plush, red, velvet easy chair, and a very large screen television set. On a table are a briefcase, and a stack of letters, neatly piled. The room looks pristine. Then the door bursts open, so hard, the knob is buried into the wall next to the door, the plaster shattering with a loud crunch. WBL storms in, his leg still heavily braced, and throws one of his crutches across the room, and slamming the other against the wall as hard as he can. This section of the wall cracks deeply, with another loud crunch. December enters behind WBL looking very uneasy. Azmodai enters last looking very bored.
WBL snarls, still holding the now bent crutch.WBL:
That self-righteous, brain-dead, imbecilic, single-celled, simpleton! He's biased! I am injured!! Does he not understand that?! I have a fucking doctor's notice! I cannot wrestle! Cannot! I am physically incapable! WBL's anger reaches a boiling point, and he hurls his last crutch across the room. There is a loud crash, a flash, and puff of smoke as the crutch sails straight through the screen of the TV. WBL then raises his braced leg and promptly puts his foot through the wall.December:
Bill, please calm-WBL:
Shut up! It's a conspiracy... it always has been! The referees, Stall... this entire federation is against me! They all want to see me lose! They're afraid of my success! They're afraid of everything I've ever said, every TRUE thing I've ever said about this disgraceful, ramshackle, cess-pool of a federation, will be validated when I finally prove what I've been saying! They've thrown me up against one of their worst, and simply stacked every card in his favor to beat me!Azmodai shakes his head.Azmodai:
Yeah. S'definitely the most plausible scenario, boss...WBL pauses and glares at him. Azmodai sighs.Azmodai:
If you hate this place so fucking much, why the hell 'er you still here?WBL sighs deeply and rubs the bridge of his nose.WBL:
You just don't.... nobody get's.... DOES ANYBODY understand the CONCEPT of PROVING A POINT! VINDICATION! JUSTIFICATION?! Am I the ONLY one that understands these things?! Am I the ONLY one that has any amount of dignity, and is willing to stick by what they say until the end?!Azmodai:
So, the end ISN'T when you've been proven wrong?WBL glares at him again.WBL:
You shut your completely worthless mouth! I wouldn't be IN this situation if it wasn't for you?Azmodai raises an eyebrow at this one. He speaks slowly and darkly now. He apparently doesn't like being accused of being at fault.Azmodai:
Let's just hear the math on this one...WBL:
I busted my ass trying to track you down, crawled all the way down in your little dust hole in the middle of fucking nowhere, spent hundreds of thousands of dollars and many, MANY sleepless hours reading my fathers old diaries in enlisting you, all to make sure that nothing happened to me during this best of five series, and NOW look at what's happened?! I'm 2 and 0 against that filth-encrusted disease, Pain! You stood at ringside, and didn't do a DAMN thing while that idiot wrenched my knee, and took every low road in the book in order to screw me out of a victory that was so obviously rightfully mine?!Azmodai slowly removes his glasses.Azmodai:
You really... honestly... truly believe that's what happened, don't you? You seriously think you're unbeatable otherwise... don't you?WBL:
I seriously think that I hired you to do a job, I seriously think that I offered you a vast reward for completing said job, and I seriously think you're the farthest from earning that reward that you can possibly be!WBL spins around and, as if to emphasize his point, throws over the table with the briefcase and letters on it. The letters go fluttering everywhere, the briefcase crashing to the floor. He wheels back toward Azmodai.WBL:
And now, we are going to set this right. I have to work through an injury now... but that's completely fine. I'm wrestling mindless peons #28 and 36 tonight. I have every confidence that even with both legs broken and my eyes gouged out, I could still very easily destroy both of them. But that's no longer what it's about. It's about showing the FWF what happens when they fuck WBL over for the umpteenth time. Tonight, we are, you and I... we are going to remove two wrestlers, not only from the FWF's roster, but from the sport of professional wrestling. The two of them are dead men. Plain and simply... dead men. You are going to do what I've paid you to do, and you're not going to sit there and stare at the ring posts and do nothing this time.Azmodai glares for a long, intense moment at WBL. The silence is deafening as the two bore holes into eachother. Nervously, December begins sifting through the letters on the floor. Finally, Azmodai replaces his sunglasses, and nods slowly to WBL.Azmodai:
Fine. Whatever you say, boss.WBL snarls through clenched teeth.WBL:
You're fucking right it's whatever I say...Azmodai shakes his head, as December suddenly stands, holding a rather sparkly envelope. She opens it and says weakly.December:
Erm... hey... lil' Miss Fayth has invited us to her Christmas Party... would you-WBL wheels on her. He speaks in a very soft, quiet, and terribly threatening manner.WBL:
What. Do. You. Think?December swallows nervously. Azmodai speaks up.Azmodai:
Think there'll be booze there?December:
Uh... maybe?Azmodai:
Maybe's good enough for me. You can come if ya want, or stay with Captain Tantrum here. I'm goin'. That is.... (He glances back over to WBL.)... if it's alright with you... boss...WBL:
Yes... fine. Both of you leave, please. It'll be nice not being surrounded by completely useless piles of genetic material for a change....Azmodai shrugs, and leaves the room. December lingers for a moment, then quickly follows. WBL turns, glares after them, then turns away. He then slumps into the red easy chair and sighs a deep, frustrated, sigh, as we fade to black... |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:20:43 GMT -5
What it all comes down to...
22nd December 2006 "No matter how enmeshed a commander becomes in the elaboration of his own thoughts, it is sometimes necessary to take the enemy into account."
-- Winston Churchill ~*I have to block out thoughts of you, so I don't loose my head
They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed...*~ A circle of clearing in the midst of putrid swamp. It is an unnaturally dark night. Leafless gnarled trees jut out of the filthy waters, surrounding the sole clear spot of water in the center, stretching their dead arms to the seemingly endless void above. It is completely silent. There are no mosquito's buzzing, no frogs or crickets chirping. Just pure, deathly, silence. And then suddenly.... that silence is broken. A frantic sloshing can be heard, followed by a heavy gasping for air. And then suddenly, a shape bursts out from the tree-line into the center of the clearing. It is a small child, a boy, dressed in what looks like a school-boys uniform, though it is now ripped and covered in mud. We've seen this boy before. He is a very young version of Wild Bill Legend. He looks terrified. As he peers over his shoulder, he trips and falls on all fours, landing face first in the water. After several gurgling seconds, he finally manages to wrench himself to his feet, gasping and coughing for air. A low chuckle rings out, and the boy freezes. A biting, cold, sadistic voice speaks from somewhere in the tree line. Voice:
Pathetic. Totally and completely pathetic. I don't know what I was expecting. You obviously haven't changed a single degree since I left. Not one damn bit.The boy stares in the direction he believes the voice is coming from and scrambles backward, away from it, nearly falling into the muck again. His eyes are filled with terror, and a small whimper escapes his throat. He suddenly backs into something and screams. It is a man. We can tell just from looking at him, that he is not a good man. His short, grey hair is slicked back. His icy blue eyes stare coldly at the boy. A grey beard wreaths his sadistic smile. The boy looks up at him, absolutely horrified, but doesn't move.Man:
Look at you. You fucking, useless child. Running and crying, bawling your eyes out, doing your best to hide from the problem, rather than confront it. I don’t know what I did to piss God off so much that he'd curse me with a little disease like you for my legacy. (He chuckles.) I mean, don't get me wrong. I know I pissed God off a lot. But... this? No one deserves this.We now know who this man is. The same unseen force that has basically dominated WBL's every waking moment his entire life. This man is Jonathan Legend. WBL's father. His remarks seem to have slowly begun to change young Bill's expression from one of fear to one of anger. This seems to amuse Jonathan even more.Jonathan:
Ah, the one thing you were always better at than even crying: throwing a temper tantrum. Go ahead, Bill. Scream, yell, shout. I know you want to. And then I'll just laugh at you again. And you'll get angry again. But you won't DO anything about it. You NEVER do ANYTHING about it. You just whine. You fucking useless coward. You fucking useless child.Bill's lower lip begins to quiver, but he doesn't back down. His father grins and opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off by a third voice.Voice:
Leave him alone, father...Jonathan cackles now.Jonathan:
This is just too perfect! Now my eldest and even more useless has arrived to defend her weakling brother. Well, come on Serena.And out of the tree-line steps the same, young, dark haired girl we've seen before. Maybe fifteen or sixteen, her green eyes are locked on Jonathan's. Her long black dress pools up at her feet where it meets the filthy swamp water. She moves to stand behind Bill, and places a hand on his shoulder.Serena:
He's your son! He has your blood in his veins! He's never been anything but completely loyal, upstanding and obedient to you. Why do you treat him like this?! Why do you treat either of us like this?Jonathan scoffs.Jonathan:
Loyalty and obedience. Serena, if I'd wanted those things, I would have gotten a dog. It probably would've been a better investment, too. You... both of you.... you never understood. Not only were you useless, you were stupid as well. I didn't want sweet, good, little children. That's never what I wanted. I wanted children who could carry on MY legacy! I wanted strong children, powerful, and ruthless children. I wanted to leave my mark on the world. I wanted to be immortal!! But what did I get stuck with? What kind of children did I get? A girl. A girl and a frail little boy who allows her to coddle him when he gets a boo-boo. (He spits.) Pathetic. A complete waste of genetic material. Both of you were. Both of you ARE. And you don't get any better, even after I'm gone. That's the absolute worst part about this entire thing. Neither of you change. In fact, you get worse. (Jonathan chuckles to himself. He gestures to Bill.) At least he manages to get one thing right when he gets older. When you fail in your usefulness to him, he casts you aside.Bill's eyes widen, and Serena, while trying to remain as stoic against her father as ever, falters slightly.Serena:
What... are you talking about?Jonathan cackles again.Jonathan:
A mental breakdown, I believe is how they classify it. Eventually, everything get's to be too much for you, my little princess. Even after I'm dead and gone, dealing with me proves too much for you, and you completely lose it. And the darling brother you've spent your life protecting? What does he do about it? Does he do his best to help her in return?Jonathan grins malevolently, as Bill looks up at Serena, who looks back at him wide-eyed.Bill:
Serry, I-Jonathan:
No! He doesn't! Do you know what he does, my darling? He casts you away in a nut house, and throws away the fucking key! How's THAT for vilification?!Bill looks to his sister... and suddenly, they are no longer in a swamp. The three are now in a padded room. And Serena is no longer in her black dress. Instead, she is naked, save for a heavy straight-jacket. Her hair is disheveled, and her eyes bloodshot. She looks up at Bill, horrified, and manages to croak out:Serena:
...Why?Jonathan creeps up behind the terrified Bill, and places a heavy hand on his shoulder.Jonathan:
Because he was finally doing what he thought I wanted. He was finally trying to be like me. He was trying to get rid of his weaknesses. However... (He crouches down, and spins Bill around harshly to glare in his eyes.)... he was still a fucking idiot! Because instead of taking responsibility for his own weaknesses, he chose to try instead to externalize them, and blame them on everyone else. Leaving him now weak AND in denial!His other hand comes up to Bill's other shoulder now. Anger begins seething on Jonathan's face and, as he speaks, he begins violently shaking Bill.Jonathan:
Instead of becoming what I wanted you to be, you became a falsified imitation of me! You became a weak, egotistical, loud-mouth, who couldn't back up anything he said! You were such a fucking mistake! But I guess that's just the way it goes... you were born a failure...He suddenly wraps his hands around Bill's neck...Jonathan:
AND YOU'LL DIE A FAILURE!!**************************************Wild Bill Legend awakes with a start and a scream, sitting straight up in his four poster bed, in his estate in Houston. He glances frantically around, his eyes wide with terror, his breath coming in gasps. The clock on the stand next to his bed shows us that it is 3 o'clock in the morning. After he realizes it was just a dream, he slumps forward, and buries his face in his hand.~*Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you*~ **************************************Elsewhere that night...The asylum. An orderly walks down the hall. Lining both sides of it are the thick, metal doors leading to the rooms of the patients. The orderly pauses to glance in each one, making sure everything is as peaceful as an insane asylum can be at night. He gets to room 1428, peers in the widow, and pauses. He sighs, and reaches toward the walkie talkie in his back pocket, pulling it out, and raising it to his mouth. He presses the button and speaks.Orderly:
Doc... she's still awake.There is a pause, then a burst of static from the walkie, then finally:Doc:
Alright. I'll be down shortly.Moments later....The doctor arrives at the door. The orderly is still looking in the window.Doctor:
Has she done anything?The orderly shakes his head.Orderly:
No. She's just sitting on the floor in the middle of her room, staring at the wall. But, you know it's only a matter of time...The doctor nods, sighing. He takes out his keys and places them in the door's lock, twisting, before pushing the door open...Doctor:
Wish me luck...He enters, closing the door behind himself.Inside...The doctor stands near the door. The room is just as we saw it before: It is of course, Serena Legend's room. Serena herself sits on the floor, Indian style, just staring at the wall, slightly hunched over. The doctor moves toward her.Doctor:
Serena, dear... it's three o'clock in the morning. You really should be sleeping. Is there something bothering you? Something keeping you awake?Serena:
She's going to him. She is. She found out.... she found out who he is, and now she goes to him. She shouldn't. She knows this. But she goes. I can't stop her. You can't stop her. She goes to him. And no one can stop her....She casts her vacant eyes up toward the doctor.Serena:
I'm having a very bad night, Doctor...The doctor stares for a long moment, a bit taken aback. Serena has been nearly catatonic since she arrived. The question he'd asked her upon entering the room had merely been a formality. He hadn't expected any response at all. He pauses, carefully considering his next question, before finally asking it.Doctor:
Who.... who are you speaking of?Serena smiles a very sad, bitter smile.Serena:
Who do you think I'm speaking of, doctor?The doctor takes another step toward her, still speaking cautiously.Doctor:
I don't know, Serena. But perhaps, if you told me, we could talk about it. I could maybe help you feel better about it.Serena:
Doubtful. He's a very important man, you know?Doctor:
Who?Serena:
My brother. That's what he told me, the day he left. He was important. Too important to allow me to be a liability anymore. Too important to allow himself any weaknesses by allowing me to stay around. He couldn't let me comfort him anymore... that was weakness. That's what father was always talking about. Weakness. That's what Billy said. Billy. My Billy.... my poor, precious little Billy... what has happened to you?The doctor nods.Doctor:
So your brother.... that's what this is about, then?Serena:
That's what it's always been about, darling. That's what it always will be about. And now she's found out. She's figured out who he is, and she goes to him. Not to help him, oh no, no no. She wishes for revenge. For what he did. She wishes to destroy him. But she doesn't know. She doesn't know who he is. She doesn't understand..... that he will destroy her. My poor little precious doesn't realize how badly he will hurt her... Why doctor? Why did he do this to me?Doctor:
You were troubled, Serena. You needed our help.Serena:
I needed his help, doctor. He chose not to give it to me. After all I did for him. He chose to end it like this. He chose to dump me off here, with you. He destroyed me, doctor. He did. And now... now he's going to hurt my little precious. My poor little precious. And there's no way I can help her. No way. Because she won't come here. She'll just go to him. Yes. That's what she'll do. (Tears begin to well up in her eyes, and her voice slightly faulters.) My precious baby girl...A long moment of silence goes by. The doctor stares at her for along moment, a worried expression clearly evident on his face.Doctor:
Your daughter...Serena nods. The tears welling up in her eyes pour freely down her face now. She glances down away from the doctor, then back up at him, her eyes pleading.Serena:
My daughter...She looks away from him again, closing her eyes. She begins sobbing freely, now.~*And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I have made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling “Make it go away!”
Just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered...*~ Serena:
How could he do this to me...?~*Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you*~ Elsewhere...WBL stands, staring off into space, on the balcony of his estate. He wears his usual suit. He holds his hat in his hands. There is a very solemn expression on his face. There is a green yard below him that stretches for several hundred yards, before it ends in a very high, concrete security wall. The skyline of the city carves a silhouette against the rising sun in the distance. WBL stands for a long moment, before turning around and heading back inside.**************************************9 a.m. that same day.
Legend Petro Headquarters
Houston, TXPhilip Furrow, the vice-president of Legend Petro stands, staring out the wall-length window of the board room, on the top floor of the enormous sky-scraper. Philip is the same man who confronted WBL on the roof of the same building, just before his match at Collision months ago. He looks very annoyed as he stares out the window at the city that sprawls below him. Behind him, sit the board of directors, staring anxiously, as though they're waiting for him to say something. After a long moment one of the director's speaks.Director:
Well... where is he?Philip sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets and wheeling to face the directors. It is pretty obvious by the look on his face that he is just barely keeping his rage in check. Instead he simply shrugs and says, in an eerily casual tone.Philip:
He's, ah.... he's not coming.An annoyed murmur begins to rise amongst the directors. The same one that spoke before, sighs now, and speaks again.Director:
Though I can regretfully say I am unsurprised... does he not understand that he is our CEO as well as our public face?! Does he not understand what's happening? Has he not been watching the news? One of our oil tankers sank! And it didn't collide with anything. It just sank. And it's poisoned the Gulf of Mexico for God knows how long! Does he not understand that a formal investigation is being launched?! Does he not understand that if the authorities discover that we were intentionally using sub-par ships, and paying off the inspectors, that we will all be, in a word, royally fucked?!Philip shrugs.Philip:
I'm sure he does. And I'm equally sure he doesn't care. By the by, "royally fucked" is two words.The director is clearly not amused. Philip moves toward the chair at the head of the table, flopping down in it, and glancing around at the other directors. The first director speaks up again.Director:
Did he at least say why he wasn't coming this time?Once again, a moment passes where it appears Philip is struggling to keep his anger under control. But the moment passes, and he simply nods.Philip:
He did.Another long moment goes by as the director looks at Philip expectantly. Finally, the director sighs.Director:
And what exactly did he say?Philip:
He, said, ah.... he had more important things to concentrate on than this right now.Director:
More important.... more important things than this?! Like what?Philip:
Ah, Blizzard, I believe.Another long moment of silence.Director:
A.... blizzard...Philip shakes his head.Philip:
No no no, not a blizzard. Blizzard. It's a pay-per-view. A wrestling pay-per-view. For the FWF. You know, that wrestling federation our CEO is in. Mr. "WBL". There's some kind of big... match... going down at the pay-per-view. Mr. Legend feels that he needs to devote his attention to winning this match. Which is why he isn't here this morning.The entire board of directors stares at Philip incredulously.Philip:
Mm-hmm. That, ladies and gentlemen, is why our CEO and majority stock holder isn't here today.Director:
You have got to be fucking kidding me.Philip:
I fucking kid you not. And the best part of the whole thing is... he has a whopping 85 percent share of the stock... he has enough voting power to outvote all of us put together. So there's nothing we can do about his absences but sit here and compensate for them.Another long moment of silence goes by as Philip allows everything he has just said to sink in. Finally, he leans back.Philip:
So... what are we going to do about this oil tanker problem? |
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Post by FWF on Mar 27, 2011 8:21:24 GMT -5
Broken
20/07/2007 ~*I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all of my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Because your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone... *~ We fade into the estate of Wild Bill Legend. It is night time. Crickets can be heard chirping off in the distance. A lone security guard paces back and forth in front of the large iron gate. The moon hangs brightly at the top of the sky. Stars twinkle brightly overhead but fade away as the sky meets the skyline of Houston in the distance. We focuse on a balcany located on the second floor of the easternmost wing of the mansion. On the balcany's ledge we see Kylie Legend, seated, hugging her knees. She is dressed in a plain, white nightgown. Her eyes look cold and hard as she stares off into the distance, deeply in thought...Ten years ago... The little girl sat at the plush chair the doctor had told her to sit in. She was in the waiting room of a hospital of some sort. At least as far as she could tell. She didn't really know why she was here. Her uncle and mom were here too. Her mom was sad though. She'd left the room with the doctor. It made her very nervous. Her uncle sat next to her. She looked up at him, hopefully. He was staring down at some papers, forcefully. He didn't look sad or worried. He didn't look anything, really. She wrinkled her nose as she watched him. He was dressed in a suit, and a cowboy hat. He ALWAYS dressed in a suit and a cowboy hat. The little girl thought that was weird. She continued looking at him. Finally, her uncle glanced over at her.WBL:
What... are you staring at?Kylie:
Why are we here?Her uncle went back to staring at his papers. He did that thing with his eyes he almost always did when the little girl said anything to him, rolling them.WBL:
Your mother has a lot of problems, kid. She's here to get some help.Kylie:
Is that why she cries all the time?WBL glances back over at her and looks at her for a long time, his eyes stone cold and emotionless. Finally, he shrugs and once again goes back to his papers.WBL:
Among many other reasons...A tense silence passes between them. Finally, the little girl speaks again, very softly, her voice shaking slightly.Kylie:
Is mommy gonna be alright, Uncle Bill...WBL sighs annoyed.WBL:
Hell if I know...At that moment, the door to the waiting room opens, and a man in a white coat walks out, a somber expression on his face. He steps over to WBL, who stands, still holding the papers. The doctor looks at him a moment.Doctor:
Are you certain about this, Mr. Legend. We truly feel your sister could, with your help-WBL:
I don't have the time or the energy to put up with Serena anymore, Doctor. She's all yours. (He hands the doctor the papers.) All signed and dated. Pleasure doing business.The doctor raises an eyebrow.Doctor:
Business...WBL grabs his coat from the back of the chair he'd been sitting at, and begins moving toward the door. Kylie moves to follow him, but WBL stops, circles on her, and sneers.WBL:
Nuh uh... you stay...The doctor looks at him wide-eyed, as Kylie stares, confused.Doctor:
Mr. Legend, she's-WBL:
Not my problem anymore. I've contacted child services. I've decided to put the child up for adoption. I made a few calls, called in a favor or two... they're picking her up from here. She's not my responsibility anymore. She's not my niece anymore. And she's most certainly not my problem anymore. Good day.The doctor stares at WBL in shock as WBL simply turns on his heel, throws his coat over his shoulder, and walks out the door. Kylie glances back and forth between the door and the doctor, and whimpers...Kylie:
Where... where's he going? Where... where's my mommy?The doctor just looks at her. He has no idea what to say...~*These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase...*~
The present... Kylies eyes are now hardened and focussed as she stares off. Slowly, she slides off the ledge back onto the balcany, and enters the mansion...*************************************** Elsewhere in the mansion... WBL's office. It is in as pristine a condition as ever. The desk is spotless, and the moonlight shining through the huge, wall length window behind it, glints off the desktop. WBL stands, in his usual attire, minus the jacket and cowboy hat. His tie is loosened, and his sleeves are rolled up. He stands at the window, staring out at the city scape in the distance. The focussed look on his face is eerily similar to the one Kylie had on her's. It is deathly silent. Then... the silence is broken as someone clears their throat. WBL doesn't react. Standing in the doorway to the office, is Azmodai. He holds an apple in his hand, which he currently carves at with a switchblade. He pops a piece of the apple into his mouth, before speaking.Azmodai:
So... Hell in a Cell, huh. Sounds pretty entertaining.WBL ignores him. Azmodai grins.Azmodai:
Two men go in. One man comes out. Kinda like the Thunderdome, huh?WBL rolls his eyes.Azmodai:
So, Mad Max.... how're ya plannin' on beating Master Blaster without my help, huh?Now WBL turns on him, very slowly, an intense glare on his face. Azmodai merely continues grinning, as he pops another apple slice in his mouth.WBL:
Without your help.... without.... your... help? It's BECAUSE of your idiotic "help" that I'm in this situation! I had our last match entirely in hand!Azmodai:
Did you now?WBL:
I told you, the entire reason I spent all that time searching for you, was to have you as an insurance policy.... in case I NEEDED you... I didn't NEED you.Azmodai shrugs. He steps forward out of the door frame and closes the distance between he and his boss.Azmodai:
S'not the way it looked from where I was standing, but my visions always been a little off.WBL glares darkly. He's clearly not amused by Azmodai's sardonic remarks.WBL:
You are entirely worthless... you've done nothing whatsoever to help me since I brought you on board. You seem to think this is some kind of game, and you absolutely refuse to take any of this seriously. And now, thanks to you're carelessness, I have to-Kylie:
Be locked away in a cell with no one from the outside world to help you...WBL and Azmodai both turn in the direction of the door. Kylie stands, staring squarely at WBL, a dark glare on her face.Kylie:
Alone and helpless. Nothing and no one there to stand between you and your demons. No loved ones to help you. No bodyguards to watch your back. Alone. And abandoned. Hm, gee Uncle Bill.... where does this sound familiar....WBL simply glares back at her. He doesn't speak. Azmodai looks very amused. A tense silence goes by. It's finally broken by the sound of Azmodai muching on another apple slice.Kylie:
What goes around comes around. Of course... you'll only have to endure it until Pain beats you. Then you'll be released... unlike my mother... your sister.... who's had to endure yours and your father's torture her entire life. But maybe now you'll get a little taste. Maybe now you'll have a small glimpse of the torture you've put others through. God... I can't wait to see you fall flat on your face. I can't wait to see you get destroyed in that cell.WBL just continues to glare at her. She glares back at him. Azmodai eats his apple. Finally, Kylie nods, and a grin crawls across her face.Kylie:
G'night Uncle Bill. Azmodai.Azmodai nods.Azmodai:
Kylie.And with that, Kylie leaves the room. Azmodai returns his gaze to WBL. WBL simply stands, a dark look still on his face. Withoug warning, he suddenly turns on his desk and slams his fist down on its top. A loud "CRACK" is heard, and a dark split in the wood appears. The glint of the moonlight is broken...~*You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
But now i'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase...*~ |
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