Post by predator on Dec 29, 2005 0:31:51 GMT -5
[fade up]
---Once again, we find ourselves running through a dark and mysterious forest. The dead leaves, pine needles, and the occaisional rock or two sink into the rather shallow mud as we rampage between tall, looming trees. We don't dare to look, but we hear booming thumps of what sounds like the feet of a rather large creature. Suddenly, we come to a stop at a large cliff. We look down as rocks crumble under the weight of our feet. Down at the bottom of the ridge (almost a mile down) lies a narrow, raging river.
"Help!" cries a boy as he slips and falls down the cliff, catching some roots, protruding from the rocks, hanging on for dear life. Very few of us notice, or at least care, because behind us, standing in front of the moonlight, stands the creature! His massive figure's shadow reaching it's end at our feet. The creature--whatever it is--lifts a bladed right hand. We scream, but the most heard is the boy on the cliff as he falls down to the river below, richocheting off of the cliff as the wind blows, harshly. We look to the creature, who lunges, his bladed arm outstretched---
---I wake up. Back in Tim Horton's. I guess I was a little more tired than I had expected.
"Sir," the waitress hands me my coffee, hesitantly. I take it and drink, my eyes closed. But, when I open my eyes, no one is around. Everyone just seemed to disappear into thin air. I think I am alone, at least until a rather small man in black clothes holding a large duffle bag bursts through the door, seeking refuge from something. I just wasn't sure what. At least until the window next to me shatters. I put my arms over my head, for protection, as glass flies everywhere. When I look up I see the creature! The very large man wearing the silver/grey mask, weilding the bladed arm! I am quite afraid, but it seems the man wearing black isn't convinced.
"So," he chuckles, "you have found me. Well--" He is interupted by a fearsome growl from the creature. "Wh-whatcha gonna do, when I come for you?" he stutters. The creature replies, most ferociously. He lifts his bladed arm and lunges---
---NAPW locker room. ThePredator puts something that looks to be quite sharp in a locker, and turns to face the camera. His mask glistening in the florescent lights.
"Monday. Night. Fights." he says coldly. "It appears I have no one to worry about, yet again. "Bad Boy" Joey Malone. . . You wish to prove that you can win? Would you like to? Then challenge somebody else. I have no objections. Ask the NAPW President about a new opponent, if you aren't happy with the match you were assigned." ThePredator laughs under his breath as he locks his locker door, shaking his head. He turns, and slowly walks towards the camera. "I suggest you try your best to walk away, Malone. Because you might not live to see the day you win a match." Our host stops and strokes long, black, dreaded hair. "You ask 'Whatcha gonna do, when I come for you'? I answer with the simple pounding of the referee's hand on the mat; 'One, two, three'. I will have you down for the three-count, before you could possibly protest. One simple punch to the nose, and you might even give up." ThePredator interlocks his fingers, cracking them. "Remember, Joey Malone"---
---The Hunt Has Begun---
[fade out]
---Once again, we find ourselves running through a dark and mysterious forest. The dead leaves, pine needles, and the occaisional rock or two sink into the rather shallow mud as we rampage between tall, looming trees. We don't dare to look, but we hear booming thumps of what sounds like the feet of a rather large creature. Suddenly, we come to a stop at a large cliff. We look down as rocks crumble under the weight of our feet. Down at the bottom of the ridge (almost a mile down) lies a narrow, raging river.
"Help!" cries a boy as he slips and falls down the cliff, catching some roots, protruding from the rocks, hanging on for dear life. Very few of us notice, or at least care, because behind us, standing in front of the moonlight, stands the creature! His massive figure's shadow reaching it's end at our feet. The creature--whatever it is--lifts a bladed right hand. We scream, but the most heard is the boy on the cliff as he falls down to the river below, richocheting off of the cliff as the wind blows, harshly. We look to the creature, who lunges, his bladed arm outstretched---
---I wake up. Back in Tim Horton's. I guess I was a little more tired than I had expected.
"Sir," the waitress hands me my coffee, hesitantly. I take it and drink, my eyes closed. But, when I open my eyes, no one is around. Everyone just seemed to disappear into thin air. I think I am alone, at least until a rather small man in black clothes holding a large duffle bag bursts through the door, seeking refuge from something. I just wasn't sure what. At least until the window next to me shatters. I put my arms over my head, for protection, as glass flies everywhere. When I look up I see the creature! The very large man wearing the silver/grey mask, weilding the bladed arm! I am quite afraid, but it seems the man wearing black isn't convinced.
"So," he chuckles, "you have found me. Well--" He is interupted by a fearsome growl from the creature. "Wh-whatcha gonna do, when I come for you?" he stutters. The creature replies, most ferociously. He lifts his bladed arm and lunges---
---NAPW locker room. ThePredator puts something that looks to be quite sharp in a locker, and turns to face the camera. His mask glistening in the florescent lights.
"Monday. Night. Fights." he says coldly. "It appears I have no one to worry about, yet again. "Bad Boy" Joey Malone. . . You wish to prove that you can win? Would you like to? Then challenge somebody else. I have no objections. Ask the NAPW President about a new opponent, if you aren't happy with the match you were assigned." ThePredator laughs under his breath as he locks his locker door, shaking his head. He turns, and slowly walks towards the camera. "I suggest you try your best to walk away, Malone. Because you might not live to see the day you win a match." Our host stops and strokes long, black, dreaded hair. "You ask 'Whatcha gonna do, when I come for you'? I answer with the simple pounding of the referee's hand on the mat; 'One, two, three'. I will have you down for the three-count, before you could possibly protest. One simple punch to the nose, and you might even give up." ThePredator interlocks his fingers, cracking them. "Remember, Joey Malone"---
---The Hunt Has Begun---
[fade out]