Post by Teo Blaze on Dec 6, 2015 13:30:18 GMT -5
“A Strange Game. The only winning move is not to play.”
The scene opens on a small, poorly lit room, the insufficient light hardly doing justice to the pristine white tile, spotless save for a bit of dried blood, wiped away long ago and yet persisting as a reminder of the pain that once occurred. In the corner of the room lies a bed, and upon it a man, his face obscure by a cold compress and bandages draped over him like a halfway-finished mummy. The scene sits in silence for a few moments before the creak of a door welcomes a new arrival, a balding, middle aged man with a pencil thin moustache in a crisp, starched white coat. He walks slowly over the bed, examining his clipboard with a cocked eyebrow, shaking his head in a nearly imperceptible manner as he approaches his charge and looms, frowning down.
“I warned you, didn’t I? I told you that sooner or later that this reckless behavior would catch up to you, but did you listen? No…”
The man on the bed fails to respond, simply laying in silence as the doctor shakes his head and continues.
“There’s no doubt about it, you’ve got a serious concussion, and your nose is all but shattered. I know you’re stubborn but please listen to me for once when I say that you’re going to have to cancel the match for this week.”
At this proclamation, the man on the bed suddenly stirs, reaching out and pushing the doctor clumsily. The doctor’s face curls into a sneer of contempt, but he turns and quickly walks beyond the man’s reach.
“Look, I’m not going to tell you this again, that Moor fellow practically destroyed your body, you have to learn to live to fight another day.”
The man on the bed finally sits up, the compress falling away to reveal the familiar face of the People’s Champion, but where once there was a hero’s visage there now is but a brutal image, dried blood showing all across the swollen and battered face- yet that is not the most terrifying thing…
What catches the doctor off-guard, what causes this man who has seen hundreds if not thousands of injuries, brutalities, maimings and killings to flinch is the look in the man’s eyes, a look like cold steel- a look of determination…and anger.
Despite himself, the doctor raises his eyebrows in surprise before hastily adjusting his clipboard, looking over the figures.
“I know that you’re not happy about this sir, but a fact is a fact, there’s nothing that can keep me as a doctor from declaring you unfit to-“
Without a word Teo stands up from the bed, wobbling slightly and walks towards the door of the little room.
“Hey! You’re not fit to walk, didn’t you hear me? You can’t keep doing this to yourself, it’s going to-“
Before the doctor can finish his sentence, Teo pushes him and makes his way out the door. He places his hand on the wall for support, slowly stepping down the hall. He winces in pain as he walks, but keeps moving forward, arriving at a table where his possessions have been laid. He looks down and smiles, among the duffel bag and wallet, car keys, there, shining in all its glory is the People’s championship.
He stares into it and slowly the anger fades from his face, replaced with a smile, and as the moments slowly tick forward he begins chuckling, a low rumbling laugh from somewhere deep inside and growing louder and louder, a crescendo that begins turning into a piercing, shrieking laugh, Teo’s voice echoing through the empty hallway like a madman as without warning, tears begin streaming down his face. He laughs and he laughs, the noise cascading down the hallways like a hyena’s, he throws his head back and his arms out, laughing at the very top of his lungs…
And slowly collapses backward, falling in a heap against the opposite wall. The doctor, drawn by the noise, rushes to the collapsed luchador, quickly grabbing a radio from his belt and calling for additional assistance as the camera fades to black.
Part 2: Teo TV presents: Life, Death, and Funnel Cake
The scene opens on a rather bizarre locale, a travelling carnival. All around the happy squealing of children can be heard, mixed in with the sounds of midway games and the clanking of machinery, gigantic rides torpedoing people through the air in thrilling fashion as others throw darts at balloons or crash bumper cars into one another. The camera takes a great joy in overlooking each attraction before finally coming to rest in front of the Fun House, where Teo del Sol, People’s title around his waist, stands holding a wooden cane and a megaphone grins at the camera happily.
“Come one, come all! Step right up, it’s the most fun in the park! This is your one chance, your one opportunity to experience the most fantastical, most spectacular attraction you’ll see today, tomorrow, or even the day after that! It’s the WCF Fun House!”
Teo quickly beckons the camera to follow as he turns with a flourish, throwing the door open and marching vigorously through to the first room- the Hall of Mirrors
“Ah, here we are, ladies and Gentlemen, behold the hall of mirrors- you know, mirrors have a rather unique quality to them, they allow us to look at our own reflections and to see ourselves in a way that we could not otherwise. No man’s true face is safe from its own reflection, after all! You know, I like to think that when people look into the house of mirrors that they get a chance at introspection, a chance to really look inside themselves, to make some adjustments maybe, who knows?
But Unfortunately, that is not the case- some people like the mirrors just because they like looking at themselves. Ego, friends, ego. These mirrors are just as easily traps to the right mind, I mean take Bernard Core, my opponent for this week. Now I don’t dislike Bernard on a fundamental level, but I have to admit we have a clash of personalities. Bernard…he likes to look down on people, to judge people, to declare himself the moral compass for the common man and to guide them to some kind of true salvation, but come on now, we know better than that.
Come down off the high horse Bernie, you’ll find it’s more comfortable here on planet earth! If I put you here in this house of mirrors, you’d probably never leave to see the rest of the fun house! Just standing here, listening to yourself talk, agreeing with yourself, and nodding- creating some kind of homogenous, Bernard Core filled paradise. You see Bernard, unlike you, me and Spencer Adams? We don’t judge, we don’t look down on people, we don’t try to guide people… we fight for them! We fight because the WCF Faithful don’t need anyone to guide them, don’t need any moral compass, they are the ones in charge, man!
I’ve seen so many people like you come and go, people who just love to look down on everyone, tell everyone how they’re really the good guy and the people booing are misguided and blah blah blah! I’m sick of it! You know what man, maybe this hall of mirrors would be good for you- I mean maybe if you look at yourself long enough you’ll start to realize that when it gets right down to it you’re no better than anyone in this world. We enter this world equal, naked, screaming, and helpless, and you better believe we die that way. So you keep on telling me how much better than the people you are, because we’re not buying it”
Teo moves on from the hall of mirrors into the next attraction, a series of doors in a hallway.
“Well now, what do we have here?”
Teo throws a door open with gusto to reveal a dummy of a circus clown, canned laughter echoing down the hallway.
“Ah yes, the Zombie McMorris hallway. Zombie my man, you are a funny dude, I gotta give you that if nothing else-“
Teo throws open another door, revealing another clown and more laughter.
“Every single internet post a riot, every single tweet a gem, every single person in the entire world clinging desperately to see what you’ll say next,”
Teo throws open another door to reveal a television screen with Shia Lebouf clapping playing on a continual loop.
“Endless creativity, endless humor, it’s all quite good. You have reinvigorated a belt where once there was nothing, to the point that your internet title goes unchallenged! My friend, that is impressive.
But fortunately for me, and unfortunately for you, this is not an internet match this week, is it? This week you are going to be teaming up with Caliban”
Teo throws open a door to reveal a rotting pumpkin.
“Who put that there? Anyway, you are teaming with Caliban, and if there’s one thing that Zombie McMorris can be counted on not to do, it’s to be a team player.
Oh I can reference the multiple walk-outs, the times attacking partners, but the simple fact is that when it comes right down to it, Zombie is in it for Zombie. There is no way, no how that anyone is ever going to be able to make Zombie cooperate for more than a few seconds. I dig it man, anarchy, no rulez- but you see that kind of behavior only plays into our hands, because Spencer and I? We are brothers. We are legion, we are one. We have been there for each other through thick and thin, have overcome Pantheon- and even Biowalker to retain our Trios belts, and this week is just gonna be another case where the People’s Choice come together to show what we’re made of.”
Teo throws open another door to reveal replicas of the Trios belts hanging, he grins with pride at the camera before shrugging his shoulders and continuing.
“Caliban, I know you’re still there, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. You know, it’s funny- where once I found solace in the ways of the mask now you have emulated my transition. With the mask comes a new identity, a new personality, and frankly you’ve been making your presence known since you stepped back through these ropes. You almost took this People’s championship from me a few weeks ago, so I can attest firsthand that Caliban is not an easy win for anybody. But the fact is that I still walked away from that match.
Caliban, I may find you morally reprehensible, may think that you’re coocoo for cocoa puffs and over the moon and a half, yet that is not why I think we’re going to win this week.”
Teo stops at the final door, opening to reveal a painting, of the infamous scene of Cain murdering his brother Abel.
“I mean it, Zombie is not a man to be relied upon or trusted, it would not surprise me to see him send Shia Lebouf as his pinch-hitter, and leave you higher and dryer than Willie Nelson in the Mojave Desert- he is your partner only on paper, and I guarantee you that when that final bell rings and the People’s Choice are getting their hands raised once again that Zombie will not be there to give you a pat on the back. Maybe a steel chair, who knows?”
Teo opens the door and finally walks into the last room, a collection of old and dusty attractions, well-worn and used.
“I won’t say much in this room, there’s not much to say. This room is for you Night Rider, it’s symbolic of how far you’ve fallen. A couple of weeks ago I called for the return of the Night Rider that struck fear into the hearts of wrestlers everywhere, who made men cower and women blush- but that Night Rider is gone forever.
This week may be the final nail in your coffin, I don’t know how many matches you have left in you, but if this is truly going to be your last ride, then I can promise you that I’m going to make it a good one.
This week, there will be no violence, no strength, no show of awesome determination, this week we will just see a tired man with too many miles putting on a match that he doesn’t even want to be there for.
Though it pains me to say it, Night Rider is a thing of the past, and the People’s choice…we’re the future.
Night Rider, you’re a shell of what you once were, a dead man walking, a dog that is past its golden age, and if I have to, I’ll be the one to put you down.”
On that note, Teo turns and walks towards the funhouse exit, turning the lights off as he leaves.
Epilogue:
Teo lays once again on the bed in the dingy room, the doctor having carried him back once again. He places a hand on his forehead and sighs in both relief and frustration. There was no question that Wade Moor had devastated him, yet still he pushed himself to get back in the gym, back in the ring. He was gonna keep pushing until the brakes fell off, and no one was going to stop him.
He would get in the ring this week too, and probably just make all of his injuries worse. But the more he looked at the luchador, the more he realized there was nothing he could do to stop that.
Teo del Sol was going to keep pushing, for better or for worse.
