Post by "Superstar" Deathrow on Feb 24, 2007 21:31:38 GMT -5
Who are you?
Have you ever found yourself alone in a room, your thoughts turned inward, and remembered your name? It’s not that you ever forgot your name…more, perhaps, that you never bothered to fully learn it. When do you ever refer to yourself by your own name? It sounds alien on your tongue. Have you ever found yourself repeating it slowly to yourself, listening as all meaning of the word breaks down and becomes an empty sound, only a collection of so many syllables? Have you ever noticed it decomposing in this way, and felt suddenly frightened, lost, as though your entire identity was slipping away from you? As though you would slowly become nothing?
Does your name really form your identity? It can’t, can it? You don’t know your name, inherently; you must be taught it. It might take you weeks, months, years to master it with your childish tongue, even longer to spell it properly. Isn’t a name arbitrarily assigned to you? Don’t you get named by your parents even before they get a chance to meet you, get to know you? Don’t a thousand other people in the world have the same name-and aren’t they radically different people than yourself? Clearly your name cannot be synonymous with your identity…but then, what does identify you?
*** The scene opens to the front of an arena. There are no people outside. It is deserted. The only movement is of a slightly crushed Pepsi can rolling by because of the force of the gushing wind. The camera then pans up to show the big board on the front of the arena, we see in large black letters: ***
'The NAPW Presents Tuesday Night Fights"
‘Featuring’
Tag Title Match
‘Sick’ Billy Kryenik
SUPERSTAR Thomas Deathrow
Vs.
Tag Team Champions
Clint an Stone
*** Suddenly the scene begins to break up and everything fades out. ***
*** Shortly there after the scene fades back in, only now we are inside one of the local Scuzzy bars. The camera is looking out over the rows of empty seating. Then through the chilling silence, a voice chimes in, the second the first word is spoken we know the voice is that of none other than GOD!!!***
... I mean Thomas Deathrow!
Deathrow: Let us talk about destiny children.
*** The camera shoots to the right to show Thomas Deathrow walking through the door to the very large private booth. He walks over and takes a seat in a very large chair next to the camera crew. He is dressed in his ‘Cause we all need a little STD‘ t-shirt, an a pair of biker shorts . He peers out over the edge of the box. ***
Deathrow: That word used to mean something long ago; it used to refer to something that was set in stone, that couldn’t be changed no matter what happened. Once upon a time it meant that nothing could stop the event from coming to pass… that is until recently.
Now a days the word doesn’t mean much, does it? So many people have said that this is their destiny, or that that is their destiny, and in reality they have no (BLEEP)ing idea what the word even means! You see so many people have said that doing something was their destiny that now when someone says it we just laugh at them and wonder how stupid they really are. People like Hitler believed it was his destiny to rule Europe, didn’t he? Big friggan mistake because, when push came to shove, the German Army all froze to death in Russia and Hitler’s “destiny” came down to him and a gun to his head. You see, people say the word and they have no idea what they are talking about. Now, if you ask someone what they think it means, they’ll tell you that it’s the sort of word said by little insignificant men who want to make themselves sound unstoppable.
*** Deathrow then leans back and turns to the camera and begins to speak again, and as he does his tone reveals that he is very relaxed. ***
Deathrow: Anyone who talks about their destiny, will ultimately get it crushed. Then they’re left, as Clint an Stone will be, lying on the mat in a pool of their own urine an blood wondering what they did wrong. Wondering why their “destiny” to beat the Doomies failed them and wondering why it is that those men who they believed nothing could stop them from beating, ended up pinning their stupid asses to the mat for the three count or, better still, possibly making them tap for their lives and their careers. Only to loose there pressise little gold belts. Now my worthy opponents might not say something like this, but you get where I am going with this right???…. Good.
Now my friends, I know you’re not used to dealing with people like me, people who run circles around your attempts at trash talking but you have to learn to accept something that people seem to be slowly realizing and that you’ve left behind… I’m better than you Billys better than you are. That’s right. I know that you are not used to it. You are not used to hearing it. Your not used to seeing it proven. The pair of you are some of the best competion we have ever faced. Watch us all steal the show. Before it gets ruined. But taking ass kickings is something at least one of you is good at. Which is perfect because well were awesome at handing them out.
*** Deathrow gives a slight grin then retruns his focus to the camera. ***
Deathrow: But just think about that concept for a minute and you’ll realize that I’m right. You cant find a single hole in my armor, you look at me and you see an impenetrable wall of perfection and so you look and you look and you find nothing. That’s how it works when the pair of you face us. You see, I know you’re getting desperate; you’re practically shitting yourself because you know that whenever I come out here, whenever I realize a promotional video it’s slick, it’s simply oozing with perfection and that every time you start to open your mouth, you know I will smack the holy hell out of your words before they even leave your mouth.
***Deathrow pauses as a man walks over to the booth with a large glass in his left hand. He hands the glass to Thomas who in turn takes a drink from the Beverage, which by the color can be nothing but a nice cold lager. Or really dirty piss. ***
Deathrow : You have been waiting all you week, for me to speak, so you can get in the last words...so...I'm going to let you. I'm going to let you have those last words, and still think you got the best of me. There isn’t a damn thing you can use against me, that will put me down, and make yourself look better. Instead you’ll keep going over the same boring and pointless points over and over hoping that someone will be so happy that he doesn’t have to watch all of your videos to know your “better” because they’re all the same!
*** Deathrow swallows the beer and looks at the glass before letting out a satisfied breath. His voice and tone relax once more. ***
Deathrow: You see my darlings, you have nothing to use against us. Nothing. Everything you have done up to this point in your career, and everything you will end up doing, will never mean anything more to me than what I have done in my life. Now I could have come out here and I could have dropped to a lower level, I could have told the world that you’re a whore, and then proceed to tell them why, but I won’t and do you know why I won’t? Because I'm better than that! I don’t need to appeal to the lowest common denominator in order to please those fans who sit out in the arenas, I don’t need to dumb down everything I say so people can understand me, I keep what I’m saying fast paced and I never drop the ball, you don’t understand me then here’s a dictionary, use it wisely! Pik the (BLEEP) out of your hair. Put on your best pair of flared bell bottoms an get ready to disco….
*** He sets the beer on the table to his right and turns back to the camera, and with the confident Cheshire Cat grin that has become his trademark. ***
Deathrow: You hearing me? Even if I had all the brain power of a dead Scottish Skunk, then at TNF I’d still kick your asses and do you know why? I have something you don’t have, something you’ll never have. Something that you may not know about now, but it is something you will understand very soon. I will make sure of it. I think it’s here in my pocket. Nope that’s just bubble gum. My mistake but I have it. An Billy has it also.
I hope you think that you’re unbeatable, the very top talent because then, when we end your short stint here at the top of the New Alberta Pro, We won’t just end your career all together, I’ll end your self confidence, your bragging ability and I’ll take what’s left of your broken soul.
You don’t think I can do it? You want to call me boring and harsh? You want to call me something else? Anything? Do it. Please. You’re no special ed teacher, you’re one of the (BLEEP) pupils. What’s the matter, you don’t have anything to say? Were you puffing the green in the bike sheds when your teachers trying to help you.
***Deathrow stops and takes another drink from the beer sitting beside him on the table. He sets the glass back down and look out ***
Deathrow: At TNF the Doomriders will end whatever the (BLEEP) you call yourselves...this is no game anymore. I we the ball now. We have always had control. Understand right now, you will not overthrow me. I admire your hard work, I admire your accomplishments, I admire your talents, and I admire your willingness to fight...but you will not defeat us. Simple as that. We will not fall to you.
I am the next level. After me. There is no one left...
*** We continue to watch momentarily lost until the scene fades to black. ***
Have you ever found yourself alone in a room, your thoughts turned inward, and remembered your name? It’s not that you ever forgot your name…more, perhaps, that you never bothered to fully learn it. When do you ever refer to yourself by your own name? It sounds alien on your tongue. Have you ever found yourself repeating it slowly to yourself, listening as all meaning of the word breaks down and becomes an empty sound, only a collection of so many syllables? Have you ever noticed it decomposing in this way, and felt suddenly frightened, lost, as though your entire identity was slipping away from you? As though you would slowly become nothing?
Does your name really form your identity? It can’t, can it? You don’t know your name, inherently; you must be taught it. It might take you weeks, months, years to master it with your childish tongue, even longer to spell it properly. Isn’t a name arbitrarily assigned to you? Don’t you get named by your parents even before they get a chance to meet you, get to know you? Don’t a thousand other people in the world have the same name-and aren’t they radically different people than yourself? Clearly your name cannot be synonymous with your identity…but then, what does identify you?
*** The scene opens to the front of an arena. There are no people outside. It is deserted. The only movement is of a slightly crushed Pepsi can rolling by because of the force of the gushing wind. The camera then pans up to show the big board on the front of the arena, we see in large black letters: ***
'The NAPW Presents Tuesday Night Fights"
‘Featuring’
Tag Title Match
‘Sick’ Billy Kryenik
SUPERSTAR Thomas Deathrow
Vs.
Tag Team Champions
Clint an Stone
*** Suddenly the scene begins to break up and everything fades out. ***
*** Shortly there after the scene fades back in, only now we are inside one of the local Scuzzy bars. The camera is looking out over the rows of empty seating. Then through the chilling silence, a voice chimes in, the second the first word is spoken we know the voice is that of none other than GOD!!!***
... I mean Thomas Deathrow!
Deathrow: Let us talk about destiny children.
*** The camera shoots to the right to show Thomas Deathrow walking through the door to the very large private booth. He walks over and takes a seat in a very large chair next to the camera crew. He is dressed in his ‘Cause we all need a little STD‘ t-shirt, an a pair of biker shorts . He peers out over the edge of the box. ***
Deathrow: That word used to mean something long ago; it used to refer to something that was set in stone, that couldn’t be changed no matter what happened. Once upon a time it meant that nothing could stop the event from coming to pass… that is until recently.
Now a days the word doesn’t mean much, does it? So many people have said that this is their destiny, or that that is their destiny, and in reality they have no (BLEEP)ing idea what the word even means! You see so many people have said that doing something was their destiny that now when someone says it we just laugh at them and wonder how stupid they really are. People like Hitler believed it was his destiny to rule Europe, didn’t he? Big friggan mistake because, when push came to shove, the German Army all froze to death in Russia and Hitler’s “destiny” came down to him and a gun to his head. You see, people say the word and they have no idea what they are talking about. Now, if you ask someone what they think it means, they’ll tell you that it’s the sort of word said by little insignificant men who want to make themselves sound unstoppable.
*** Deathrow then leans back and turns to the camera and begins to speak again, and as he does his tone reveals that he is very relaxed. ***
Deathrow: Anyone who talks about their destiny, will ultimately get it crushed. Then they’re left, as Clint an Stone will be, lying on the mat in a pool of their own urine an blood wondering what they did wrong. Wondering why their “destiny” to beat the Doomies failed them and wondering why it is that those men who they believed nothing could stop them from beating, ended up pinning their stupid asses to the mat for the three count or, better still, possibly making them tap for their lives and their careers. Only to loose there pressise little gold belts. Now my worthy opponents might not say something like this, but you get where I am going with this right???…. Good.
Now my friends, I know you’re not used to dealing with people like me, people who run circles around your attempts at trash talking but you have to learn to accept something that people seem to be slowly realizing and that you’ve left behind… I’m better than you Billys better than you are. That’s right. I know that you are not used to it. You are not used to hearing it. Your not used to seeing it proven. The pair of you are some of the best competion we have ever faced. Watch us all steal the show. Before it gets ruined. But taking ass kickings is something at least one of you is good at. Which is perfect because well were awesome at handing them out.
*** Deathrow gives a slight grin then retruns his focus to the camera. ***
Deathrow: But just think about that concept for a minute and you’ll realize that I’m right. You cant find a single hole in my armor, you look at me and you see an impenetrable wall of perfection and so you look and you look and you find nothing. That’s how it works when the pair of you face us. You see, I know you’re getting desperate; you’re practically shitting yourself because you know that whenever I come out here, whenever I realize a promotional video it’s slick, it’s simply oozing with perfection and that every time you start to open your mouth, you know I will smack the holy hell out of your words before they even leave your mouth.
***Deathrow pauses as a man walks over to the booth with a large glass in his left hand. He hands the glass to Thomas who in turn takes a drink from the Beverage, which by the color can be nothing but a nice cold lager. Or really dirty piss. ***
Deathrow : You have been waiting all you week, for me to speak, so you can get in the last words...so...I'm going to let you. I'm going to let you have those last words, and still think you got the best of me. There isn’t a damn thing you can use against me, that will put me down, and make yourself look better. Instead you’ll keep going over the same boring and pointless points over and over hoping that someone will be so happy that he doesn’t have to watch all of your videos to know your “better” because they’re all the same!
*** Deathrow swallows the beer and looks at the glass before letting out a satisfied breath. His voice and tone relax once more. ***
Deathrow: You see my darlings, you have nothing to use against us. Nothing. Everything you have done up to this point in your career, and everything you will end up doing, will never mean anything more to me than what I have done in my life. Now I could have come out here and I could have dropped to a lower level, I could have told the world that you’re a whore, and then proceed to tell them why, but I won’t and do you know why I won’t? Because I'm better than that! I don’t need to appeal to the lowest common denominator in order to please those fans who sit out in the arenas, I don’t need to dumb down everything I say so people can understand me, I keep what I’m saying fast paced and I never drop the ball, you don’t understand me then here’s a dictionary, use it wisely! Pik the (BLEEP) out of your hair. Put on your best pair of flared bell bottoms an get ready to disco….
*** He sets the beer on the table to his right and turns back to the camera, and with the confident Cheshire Cat grin that has become his trademark. ***
Deathrow: You hearing me? Even if I had all the brain power of a dead Scottish Skunk, then at TNF I’d still kick your asses and do you know why? I have something you don’t have, something you’ll never have. Something that you may not know about now, but it is something you will understand very soon. I will make sure of it. I think it’s here in my pocket. Nope that’s just bubble gum. My mistake but I have it. An Billy has it also.
I hope you think that you’re unbeatable, the very top talent because then, when we end your short stint here at the top of the New Alberta Pro, We won’t just end your career all together, I’ll end your self confidence, your bragging ability and I’ll take what’s left of your broken soul.
You don’t think I can do it? You want to call me boring and harsh? You want to call me something else? Anything? Do it. Please. You’re no special ed teacher, you’re one of the (BLEEP) pupils. What’s the matter, you don’t have anything to say? Were you puffing the green in the bike sheds when your teachers trying to help you.
***Deathrow stops and takes another drink from the beer sitting beside him on the table. He sets the glass back down and look out ***
Deathrow: At TNF the Doomriders will end whatever the (BLEEP) you call yourselves...this is no game anymore. I we the ball now. We have always had control. Understand right now, you will not overthrow me. I admire your hard work, I admire your accomplishments, I admire your talents, and I admire your willingness to fight...but you will not defeat us. Simple as that. We will not fall to you.
I am the next level. After me. There is no one left...
*** We continue to watch momentarily lost until the scene fades to black. ***