Post by cataclysm on Apr 29, 2007 22:54:03 GMT -5
[ Blank. White. Nothing is seen or heard. After a few moments of silence, a voice can be heard. A familiar one. The voice of Cataclysm. ]
It is not my job to entertain you. It is not my job to amuse you. It is not my job to be simply a hurdle to the rediculous causes of others.
My job is to fight. My job is to hurt. My job is to earn respect.
[ Camera pans up to see a black coat falling downward, toward the ground in front of the camera. ]
Would you like to know why I chose to hide my face? Do you want to know why I chose to remain silent? The truth is you are not worthy to hear my reason. I have received nothing, why should I give?
[ The coat hits the floor in front of the camera as the camera pans to keep it in vision. ]
The coat is a symbol of my potential. Hidden. Mysterious. People tend to fear what they don't understand. Brian Bruno sees no reason to fear me, as of yet, but with God as my witness it will change. Besides, it's not fear that I want, it's respect. People take one look at me and what is the impression?
"Freakshow."
"Wierdo."
"StarWars cast-reject."
No, when people look at me, I want them to know what I am all about. Martial arts, combat in general, is my life. I wouldn't give it up for anything. I fight for the competition, I love the rush of head-to-head combat. It's hard to enjoy the rush, though, if the man facing me has no respect for me, or if he underestimates me. When people speak the name of Cataclysm with disrespect, it not only offends me, it angers me. It makes my drive for combat that much stronger.
[ A slight wooshing noise can be heard, like a faint whistling. The camera pans up to see a katana -- Japanese sword with curved blade and hilt wrapped in cloth -- flipping down toward the white earth, where the coat now lies. The camera follows it down as it thrusts itself into the heart of the coat, pinning it there. ]
This sword is a symbol of my anger. When I am made angry enough, hiding my face and potential no longer matters. I will become revealed, but I will be unstoppable. Luckily for my opponents on Tuesday, I am a very patient man. This sword represents my respect for my opponents. Strong and sharp as the blade, smooth and well crafted as the handle. I respect my opponents as I want to be respected. The sword may also represent my opponents' lack of respect for me. Piercing, deadly, threatening. Their lack of respect, as I have stated before, will kill my incentive to hide my face and with it my potential. I know what I am capable of... but do you?
The point is, I want respect. I don't care much for flashy titles or big pay-cheques. But, if that's what it will take to earn the respect that I all ready deserve, then so be it. Tons of men would kill for the honor of carrying a belt. This Tuesday, some actually may. I walk into this match the underdog. I will walk out the champion; well-respected, and well-known.
And after that? Who knows...?
[ CUT. ]
[ The scene opens to Cataclysm and Alexandr Mortimer in the locker room, moments before his TLC match against five larger men. Mortimer is dressed in his grey-ish suit for the occasion and has freshly shaved his head and face, leaning on the lockers talking businessman-like into his Crazr cellular phone. It almost looks like he waxed too. Cataclysm is sitting on the bench in the middle of the room, wearing his usual ring attire. He is just strapping on some tape on his forelegs and ankles to prepare for the match. He has all ready strapped tape over his forearms and still pretty sensitive ribs. He finishes the taping and straps on his martial arts shoes. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: [into phone] So, there is an opening? All right, thank you. I'm sorry? Oh yes, you won't be disappointed.
[ Mortimer hangs up his phone as Cataclysm opens his Gatorade. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: [to Cataclysm] Well, my friend, there is going to be a REBEL-slash-NAPW supercard in fifteen days. There is supposed to be a big eight-man tag team match; REBEL vs NAPW. REBEL is still looking for four men to compete.
[ Cataclysm looks over his shoulder to Mortimer as though to say "So, what's this got to do with me?" ]
Alexandr Mortimer: Now, I know you aren't fond of tag team contest, but it would be great for you, no?
[ Cataclysm shakes is head. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: All right, fine, I'll cancel it.
[ Mortimer goes to dial his cell phone when Cataclysm stands up and takes the phone away, closing it and tucking it into the inside pocket of Mortimer's jacket. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: Okay, okay, fine. No more phone. You have to focus, my friend. There's a title on the line in your match! Imagine if you won...
[ Cataclysm ignores Mortimer and walks out of the changeroom. Mortimer looks aghast. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: What? What if I said to Matthew Kurtis that it's not your problem that I cut boring promos?
[ Mortimer follows him out to the ring. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: [off-camera, yelling] What if I said that Bruno needs to lighten up? And Murcielago needs to wake up? Yeah, I'll do it tonight! I'll get right in their faces and tell them...
[ Fade to black. ]
It is not my job to entertain you. It is not my job to amuse you. It is not my job to be simply a hurdle to the rediculous causes of others.
My job is to fight. My job is to hurt. My job is to earn respect.
[ Camera pans up to see a black coat falling downward, toward the ground in front of the camera. ]
Would you like to know why I chose to hide my face? Do you want to know why I chose to remain silent? The truth is you are not worthy to hear my reason. I have received nothing, why should I give?
[ The coat hits the floor in front of the camera as the camera pans to keep it in vision. ]
The coat is a symbol of my potential. Hidden. Mysterious. People tend to fear what they don't understand. Brian Bruno sees no reason to fear me, as of yet, but with God as my witness it will change. Besides, it's not fear that I want, it's respect. People take one look at me and what is the impression?
"Freakshow."
"Wierdo."
"StarWars cast-reject."
No, when people look at me, I want them to know what I am all about. Martial arts, combat in general, is my life. I wouldn't give it up for anything. I fight for the competition, I love the rush of head-to-head combat. It's hard to enjoy the rush, though, if the man facing me has no respect for me, or if he underestimates me. When people speak the name of Cataclysm with disrespect, it not only offends me, it angers me. It makes my drive for combat that much stronger.
[ A slight wooshing noise can be heard, like a faint whistling. The camera pans up to see a katana -- Japanese sword with curved blade and hilt wrapped in cloth -- flipping down toward the white earth, where the coat now lies. The camera follows it down as it thrusts itself into the heart of the coat, pinning it there. ]
This sword is a symbol of my anger. When I am made angry enough, hiding my face and potential no longer matters. I will become revealed, but I will be unstoppable. Luckily for my opponents on Tuesday, I am a very patient man. This sword represents my respect for my opponents. Strong and sharp as the blade, smooth and well crafted as the handle. I respect my opponents as I want to be respected. The sword may also represent my opponents' lack of respect for me. Piercing, deadly, threatening. Their lack of respect, as I have stated before, will kill my incentive to hide my face and with it my potential. I know what I am capable of... but do you?
The point is, I want respect. I don't care much for flashy titles or big pay-cheques. But, if that's what it will take to earn the respect that I all ready deserve, then so be it. Tons of men would kill for the honor of carrying a belt. This Tuesday, some actually may. I walk into this match the underdog. I will walk out the champion; well-respected, and well-known.
And after that? Who knows...?
[ CUT. ]
[ The scene opens to Cataclysm and Alexandr Mortimer in the locker room, moments before his TLC match against five larger men. Mortimer is dressed in his grey-ish suit for the occasion and has freshly shaved his head and face, leaning on the lockers talking businessman-like into his Crazr cellular phone. It almost looks like he waxed too. Cataclysm is sitting on the bench in the middle of the room, wearing his usual ring attire. He is just strapping on some tape on his forelegs and ankles to prepare for the match. He has all ready strapped tape over his forearms and still pretty sensitive ribs. He finishes the taping and straps on his martial arts shoes. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: [into phone] So, there is an opening? All right, thank you. I'm sorry? Oh yes, you won't be disappointed.
[ Mortimer hangs up his phone as Cataclysm opens his Gatorade. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: [to Cataclysm] Well, my friend, there is going to be a REBEL-slash-NAPW supercard in fifteen days. There is supposed to be a big eight-man tag team match; REBEL vs NAPW. REBEL is still looking for four men to compete.
[ Cataclysm looks over his shoulder to Mortimer as though to say "So, what's this got to do with me?" ]
Alexandr Mortimer: Now, I know you aren't fond of tag team contest, but it would be great for you, no?
[ Cataclysm shakes is head. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: All right, fine, I'll cancel it.
[ Mortimer goes to dial his cell phone when Cataclysm stands up and takes the phone away, closing it and tucking it into the inside pocket of Mortimer's jacket. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: Okay, okay, fine. No more phone. You have to focus, my friend. There's a title on the line in your match! Imagine if you won...
[ Cataclysm ignores Mortimer and walks out of the changeroom. Mortimer looks aghast. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: What? What if I said to Matthew Kurtis that it's not your problem that I cut boring promos?
[ Mortimer follows him out to the ring. ]
Alexandr Mortimer: [off-camera, yelling] What if I said that Bruno needs to lighten up? And Murcielago needs to wake up? Yeah, I'll do it tonight! I'll get right in their faces and tell them...
[ Fade to black. ]