Post by Teo Blaze on Dec 23, 2018 23:15:39 GMT -5
The viewer is greeted by a sight that, while perhaps unusual, is absolutely fitting for the holiday season. A plain, black screen, with a “Must-See TV” logo in the bottom right corner. The screen is filled with a graphic of falling snow, the white flakes slowly falling past the screen at a rapid pace, the peaceful sound of silence that usually accompanies winter snowfalls playing out its empty symphony. It is wintry, it is white, but it is still somehow… warm.
And as if on cue, the strumming of an acoustic guitar enters as the screen begins to shift from black to a glowing orange, as if from a fireplace. The guitar sings out a familiar carol as a voiceover calmly breaks the quiet.
“Ladies and gentlemen, WCF is proud to present...the Must-See TV holiday special! With your irreplacable host, the Television Champion and King of All Media, Teo Blaze!”
The sound of canned applause echoes throughout the broadcast as it fades in on a scene that would be familiar to any long-time Christmas Special veteran. The scene that greets the viewer is a cozy living room, complete with trees, stocking, and fireplace. A fruitcake sits on an end table next to a velvet recliner, where sitting with the Television Championship proudly displayed over the back of the chair; and seated, with one leg crossed over the other, is the Television Champion himself, Teo Blaze, wearing a button down sweater over his usual outfit and blowing smoke rings from a corncob pipe as he watches the snow fall out the window.
Teo Blaze: Oh, hello! I didn’t see you come in.
Teo turns and smiles, tossing the pipe aside carelessly into the roaring fire, which responds with a burst of heat and flame.
Teo Blaze: Sit down, sit down, take a load off! Quite some weather we’re having, wouldn’t you say?
The camera stays static, but Teo leans back, as if considering something.
Teo Blaze: You know, the holidays are a time where we take it upon ourselves to look back on all the good things that have happened to us this year. Quite a list of accolades when you think about it.
Teo nods, reaching into his sweater and pulling out a second corncob pipe.
Teo Blaze: But I’m not one to toot my own horn, and as they say there’s no rest for the wicked, so truth be told as much as I would like to kick my feet up, I feel there’s something I must...address.
Teo stands up, looking into the snow. His face has changed slightly, becoming more dour, more focused.
Teo Blaze: You see, I thought that I’d done my part to earn a pretty good Christmas gift this year. I’ve diligently defended and honored that championship that I’ve been lucky enough to hold, and I figured that ole’ Saint Black would be keeping track of all my deeds and give me a fitting reward.
As Teo speaks, the viewer can see his face twisting into a sneer, his grip tightening on the pipe in his fingers, shuddering under the sudden pressure.
Teo Blaze: And what, pray tell, lump of coal has found itself into my stocking this year? What sad, pathetic, miserable human being am I being forced to deal with yet again?
As Teo speaks, his grip tightens, and the pipe shatters, sending splinters of wood in all directions. Teo looks down at his clenched fist, inhaling deeply as he struggles to keep his composure.
Teo Blaze: Vincent...Augustine.
The most self-important, manipulative, scum-sucking sack of-
Teo inhales deeply, shaking his head to clear out the emotion before turning back. In the firelight, his red lenses seem to flash like a pair of twinkling red lights, the flame reflecting back with a twisted glow.
Teo Blaze: Since our Mr. Augustine values himself something of a madman...let me ask a question…
Do you know the definition of insanity?
The words escape Teo’s mouth in a way that could only describe the question as a threat.
Teo Blaze: I know you’ve heard the saying. It’s doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
Teo turns his head slightly to the side, and a sound escapes his mouth. It is a cross between a chuckle and a roar. He slowly raises up an index finger, waving it side to side.
Teo Blaze: No, Vincent.
The definition of insanity? It’s Vincent Augustine taking this match.
It’s a man taking it upon himself, in our first encounter, to slam me in the throat with a cheap shot…
...And think that he gets to walk away scott free.
Teo turns towards the fireplace and leans against the wood of the mantle, staring into the roaring flames.
Teo Blaze: I don’t consider myself one to hold a grudge, Vincent. It has no place in this business. It’s not healthy to see someone’s face every time you close your eyes, to focus on someone until they’re in your dreams, and every morning you wake up from visions of driving their smug, laughing face through a concrete wall!
...But you Vincent? What can I say? You’ve earned yourself a spot.
Last week you had the chance to prove every word I’ve ever said about you to be one-hundred percent wrong. You had the chance to go in that ring with five other wrestlers, stand on your own two feet, and earn a chance at this prize. To earn! Your redemption against me.
And what did you do?
What did this self-proclaimed uncaring, tough-as-nails, intimidating lunatic do?
You laid down. You hid. You let the rest of the competitors prove that they belonged, and you picked the bones when they were spent.
Feeding on the bones of the dead...
You vulture….you hyena...you. fucking. worm.
As Teo speaks, the viewer can see that his grip on the mantle has tightened, and cracks are beginning to form, his fingers digging into the wood.
Teo Blaze: See Vincent, that’s the thing that you don’t seem to grasp about our….dynamic.
You rely on one thing and one thing alone, and that is intimidation.
Whether you are throwing around store-bought title belts or pushing around reporters, you have one thing and one thing alone on your mind, and that is projecting an image of yourself onto your opponents psyche.
But the cracks are beginning to show.
Before we faced last time? You were talking about how little value the Television Championship has, how little you cared about it. Vincent Augustine doesn’t care about the Television Championship, ladies and gentlemen!
Except here you are again, and last week you seemed pretty darned upset in front of the world, I pinned your shoulders for a three-count.
Could it be that for all of his bluster about how little he cares about this belt, that he...wants it? That despite what Vincent Augustine tells us, that there’s an actual layer that contains all of those things he claims to despise?
Teo’s nostrils flare as his grip continues to tighten even further.
Teo Blaze: And so we add hypocrisy to the growing list of qualities that make you just the most despicable human being on this roster, Vincent.
Do you get it yet? Do you understand that for all of your bluster, for all of your scare tactics and claims about being the smartest man in the room, despite every single thing you’ve done to hide it from the world, and from me! That your dirty little secret, your quality that you don’t want exposed to the world, the truth! About Vincent Augustine?
I can see it clear as day.
You are nothing more than a coward.
You are scared, Vincent.
No matter how hard, no matter how much you try to bury it, your actions will always speak volumes, while your words remain hollow. Empty. And worthless.
That is why you fall back on cheap shots to the throat in title matches. That is why you spend entire battle royals laying flat on your back, waiting for your chance to strike. That is why you insist on tormenting those who can do nothing about it while hiding from those who can!
You probably think you’re smart, a mastermind, a genius. You outsmarted five other competitors, let them do all the work for you! Let them fight your battles for you!
Teo’s voice roars the final words, and as he speaks, he violently turns, the sound of cracking wood echoes throughout the set as the mantle rips violently from the stone fireplace. The decorations and stockings go flying about the room as Teo turns and, with both hands, launches the mantle like a javelin into the wall, where it explodes into shards of wood!
The Television Champion stands, breathing heavily, his head tilted to one side. His eyes are barely visible beyond the red lenses, but his pupils are narrowed, as if he is looking at something far away. The fire roars behind him, sparks flying as a result of the sudden motion, casting the champion in an orange glow, leaving him little more than a sillhouette, with a pair of red lenses.
Teo Blaze: I’m going to tell you a secret, Vincent Augustine. The reason that they let you lay there, the reason that you were able to pull off your little trick?
It’s because they felt sorry for you.
It’s because when they watched you fall face first to the ground, beaten by two men so shopworn they were eliminated simultaneously seconds later, and in that moment you looked so….pathetic, so wretched, so unworthy of consideration that in that moment? It would have been like fighting a crying child.
But think about this. Why would they give you that chance to recover if you were as dangerous as you proclaim to be?
Why would they let you lie there, stewing in your own embarrassment, barely able to stand after what could only be described as a humiliating display...if you were the frightening madman, the competitor to watch out for?
Teo reaches into his jacket pocket, withdrawing a third corncob pipe. He lifts it to his mouth without lighting it, and stares at the camera.
His eyes are like flames in the darkness, cold steel staring daggers directly into the viewer’s soul.
Teo Blaze: This is the moment when it hits you Vince.
This is the moment when you realize that we are not scared of you.
That you are not the monster you think you are.
When we look at you? We see someone who crumples under pressure, someone who falls at the slightest hint of retaliation. We see a crying little boy who managed to get himself in over his head in that wrestling ring.
I fell into the trap once, only for an instant. You gave me a punch to the throat for it. Think about it Vince. The only time someone in your life ever decided to give a damn about you, to not give you the punishment, the beatdown that you’ve had coming since the day that you came crawling back to this company...and you spat it right back in their face.
Teo throws the corncob pipe over his shoulder, where it falls among the debris. He reaches down and violently yanks off the cozy sweater, tearing it off and hurling it into the fire, which roars appreciatively. He turns back, every inch of his body shaking in anger as he looks towards the camera.
Teo Blaze: That was your chance. That was your moment to undo it all, to fight with one shred of honor, with one bit of bravery.
You do not get that chance again.
You want mercy? Find a priest.
Because this Christmas Eve, the whole world gets a present.
I’m not just going to expose you, Vincent...I’m going to hurt you.
I’m going to hurt you because this is what you want. This is how you want it to end. You have shown me that the only way that I can be sure is to keep coming, to keep raining those blows, to not let up until you’re not even recognizable as a human being anymore!
You want to change the rules? You want me to come at you with everything I’ve got, you want to take mercy off the damned table?
Teo’s face finally twists into something resembling joy...but only for an instant. His white teeth flash in the pale firelight, his face contorted and twisted into a devilish expression that is equal parts excitement and fury.
Teo Blaze: Congratulations, you get your christmas wish. You get to see what happens when you make me mad. When you spit on the legacy of this championship, and you try to steal its glory, to work your way into a match you do not deserve off of others making the mistake of giving a shit about you.
As Teo speaks, something becomes clear in the background. The flames from the fireplace have spread over the sweater onto the carpet of the set, which now begins to crackle and roar a well. As Teo stands, his entire body consumed by passion, the flames begin to roar behind him, growing in ferocity along with Teo’s words until he is practically wreathed in flame.
Teo Blaze:...Truth be told Vincent, I am a little glad that you won that match last week.
Because you have absolved me of any guilt I might feel for what I do. You have shown me that I need not feel bad for what happens in that ring, that I need not burden myself with the responsibility.
Because, you despicable piece of shit, you lying, cheating, manipulative bastard…
You have orchestrated your own downfall. You have shown me that all you have, the only! Way that you can win this championship?
Is if I let you.
If I let you stand in that ring, begging, pleading for me to relent, to allow you to suffer in peace, to end the agony, and if even for an instant, I feel something for Vincent Augustine?
I open that window.
So congratulations, Vince.
Because I am going to hurt you this week. It is not going to be pretty, and it is not going to be technical.
It’s going to be violent.
I am going to burn away every!
The flames erupt behind Teo, leaving him as a sillhouette standing among the roaring inferno.
Teo Blaze: -Ounce of cowardice that you have! I will take from you what little you have until there is nothing left!
And I.
Will feel.
Nothing.
Teo turns around, the flames lick at his ankles, but he does not hesitate as he steps through them, bending down to retrieve the Television Championship from the flames. Despite the intense heat, the belt is virtually unchanged, perhaps shining even brighter in the orange light.
Teo turns and holds up the Television Championship with his left hand as he holds out his right hand.
Teo Blaze: Merry Christmas, Vincent. And to all a good night.
Teo snaps the fingers of his right hand. Almost immediately, the flames vanish, leaving only Teo’s sillhouette in the darkness.
As white snow begins to fall once more over the scene.
And as if on cue, the strumming of an acoustic guitar enters as the screen begins to shift from black to a glowing orange, as if from a fireplace. The guitar sings out a familiar carol as a voiceover calmly breaks the quiet.
“Ladies and gentlemen, WCF is proud to present...the Must-See TV holiday special! With your irreplacable host, the Television Champion and King of All Media, Teo Blaze!”
The sound of canned applause echoes throughout the broadcast as it fades in on a scene that would be familiar to any long-time Christmas Special veteran. The scene that greets the viewer is a cozy living room, complete with trees, stocking, and fireplace. A fruitcake sits on an end table next to a velvet recliner, where sitting with the Television Championship proudly displayed over the back of the chair; and seated, with one leg crossed over the other, is the Television Champion himself, Teo Blaze, wearing a button down sweater over his usual outfit and blowing smoke rings from a corncob pipe as he watches the snow fall out the window.
Teo Blaze: Oh, hello! I didn’t see you come in.
Teo turns and smiles, tossing the pipe aside carelessly into the roaring fire, which responds with a burst of heat and flame.
Teo Blaze: Sit down, sit down, take a load off! Quite some weather we’re having, wouldn’t you say?
The camera stays static, but Teo leans back, as if considering something.
Teo Blaze: You know, the holidays are a time where we take it upon ourselves to look back on all the good things that have happened to us this year. Quite a list of accolades when you think about it.
Teo nods, reaching into his sweater and pulling out a second corncob pipe.
Teo Blaze: But I’m not one to toot my own horn, and as they say there’s no rest for the wicked, so truth be told as much as I would like to kick my feet up, I feel there’s something I must...address.
Teo stands up, looking into the snow. His face has changed slightly, becoming more dour, more focused.
Teo Blaze: You see, I thought that I’d done my part to earn a pretty good Christmas gift this year. I’ve diligently defended and honored that championship that I’ve been lucky enough to hold, and I figured that ole’ Saint Black would be keeping track of all my deeds and give me a fitting reward.
As Teo speaks, the viewer can see his face twisting into a sneer, his grip tightening on the pipe in his fingers, shuddering under the sudden pressure.
Teo Blaze: And what, pray tell, lump of coal has found itself into my stocking this year? What sad, pathetic, miserable human being am I being forced to deal with yet again?
As Teo speaks, his grip tightens, and the pipe shatters, sending splinters of wood in all directions. Teo looks down at his clenched fist, inhaling deeply as he struggles to keep his composure.
Teo Blaze: Vincent...Augustine.
The most self-important, manipulative, scum-sucking sack of-
Teo inhales deeply, shaking his head to clear out the emotion before turning back. In the firelight, his red lenses seem to flash like a pair of twinkling red lights, the flame reflecting back with a twisted glow.
Teo Blaze: Since our Mr. Augustine values himself something of a madman...let me ask a question…
Do you know the definition of insanity?
The words escape Teo’s mouth in a way that could only describe the question as a threat.
Teo Blaze: I know you’ve heard the saying. It’s doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
Teo turns his head slightly to the side, and a sound escapes his mouth. It is a cross between a chuckle and a roar. He slowly raises up an index finger, waving it side to side.
Teo Blaze: No, Vincent.
The definition of insanity? It’s Vincent Augustine taking this match.
It’s a man taking it upon himself, in our first encounter, to slam me in the throat with a cheap shot…
...And think that he gets to walk away scott free.
Teo turns towards the fireplace and leans against the wood of the mantle, staring into the roaring flames.
Teo Blaze: I don’t consider myself one to hold a grudge, Vincent. It has no place in this business. It’s not healthy to see someone’s face every time you close your eyes, to focus on someone until they’re in your dreams, and every morning you wake up from visions of driving their smug, laughing face through a concrete wall!
...But you Vincent? What can I say? You’ve earned yourself a spot.
Last week you had the chance to prove every word I’ve ever said about you to be one-hundred percent wrong. You had the chance to go in that ring with five other wrestlers, stand on your own two feet, and earn a chance at this prize. To earn! Your redemption against me.
And what did you do?
What did this self-proclaimed uncaring, tough-as-nails, intimidating lunatic do?
You laid down. You hid. You let the rest of the competitors prove that they belonged, and you picked the bones when they were spent.
Feeding on the bones of the dead...
You vulture….you hyena...you. fucking. worm.
As Teo speaks, the viewer can see that his grip on the mantle has tightened, and cracks are beginning to form, his fingers digging into the wood.
Teo Blaze: See Vincent, that’s the thing that you don’t seem to grasp about our….dynamic.
You rely on one thing and one thing alone, and that is intimidation.
Whether you are throwing around store-bought title belts or pushing around reporters, you have one thing and one thing alone on your mind, and that is projecting an image of yourself onto your opponents psyche.
But the cracks are beginning to show.
Before we faced last time? You were talking about how little value the Television Championship has, how little you cared about it. Vincent Augustine doesn’t care about the Television Championship, ladies and gentlemen!
Except here you are again, and last week you seemed pretty darned upset in front of the world, I pinned your shoulders for a three-count.
Could it be that for all of his bluster about how little he cares about this belt, that he...wants it? That despite what Vincent Augustine tells us, that there’s an actual layer that contains all of those things he claims to despise?
Teo’s nostrils flare as his grip continues to tighten even further.
Teo Blaze: And so we add hypocrisy to the growing list of qualities that make you just the most despicable human being on this roster, Vincent.
Do you get it yet? Do you understand that for all of your bluster, for all of your scare tactics and claims about being the smartest man in the room, despite every single thing you’ve done to hide it from the world, and from me! That your dirty little secret, your quality that you don’t want exposed to the world, the truth! About Vincent Augustine?
I can see it clear as day.
You are nothing more than a coward.
You are scared, Vincent.
No matter how hard, no matter how much you try to bury it, your actions will always speak volumes, while your words remain hollow. Empty. And worthless.
That is why you fall back on cheap shots to the throat in title matches. That is why you spend entire battle royals laying flat on your back, waiting for your chance to strike. That is why you insist on tormenting those who can do nothing about it while hiding from those who can!
You probably think you’re smart, a mastermind, a genius. You outsmarted five other competitors, let them do all the work for you! Let them fight your battles for you!
Teo’s voice roars the final words, and as he speaks, he violently turns, the sound of cracking wood echoes throughout the set as the mantle rips violently from the stone fireplace. The decorations and stockings go flying about the room as Teo turns and, with both hands, launches the mantle like a javelin into the wall, where it explodes into shards of wood!
The Television Champion stands, breathing heavily, his head tilted to one side. His eyes are barely visible beyond the red lenses, but his pupils are narrowed, as if he is looking at something far away. The fire roars behind him, sparks flying as a result of the sudden motion, casting the champion in an orange glow, leaving him little more than a sillhouette, with a pair of red lenses.
Teo Blaze: I’m going to tell you a secret, Vincent Augustine. The reason that they let you lay there, the reason that you were able to pull off your little trick?
It’s because they felt sorry for you.
It’s because when they watched you fall face first to the ground, beaten by two men so shopworn they were eliminated simultaneously seconds later, and in that moment you looked so….pathetic, so wretched, so unworthy of consideration that in that moment? It would have been like fighting a crying child.
But think about this. Why would they give you that chance to recover if you were as dangerous as you proclaim to be?
Why would they let you lie there, stewing in your own embarrassment, barely able to stand after what could only be described as a humiliating display...if you were the frightening madman, the competitor to watch out for?
Teo reaches into his jacket pocket, withdrawing a third corncob pipe. He lifts it to his mouth without lighting it, and stares at the camera.
His eyes are like flames in the darkness, cold steel staring daggers directly into the viewer’s soul.
Teo Blaze: This is the moment when it hits you Vince.
This is the moment when you realize that we are not scared of you.
That you are not the monster you think you are.
When we look at you? We see someone who crumples under pressure, someone who falls at the slightest hint of retaliation. We see a crying little boy who managed to get himself in over his head in that wrestling ring.
I fell into the trap once, only for an instant. You gave me a punch to the throat for it. Think about it Vince. The only time someone in your life ever decided to give a damn about you, to not give you the punishment, the beatdown that you’ve had coming since the day that you came crawling back to this company...and you spat it right back in their face.
Teo throws the corncob pipe over his shoulder, where it falls among the debris. He reaches down and violently yanks off the cozy sweater, tearing it off and hurling it into the fire, which roars appreciatively. He turns back, every inch of his body shaking in anger as he looks towards the camera.
Teo Blaze: That was your chance. That was your moment to undo it all, to fight with one shred of honor, with one bit of bravery.
You do not get that chance again.
You want mercy? Find a priest.
Because this Christmas Eve, the whole world gets a present.
I’m not just going to expose you, Vincent...I’m going to hurt you.
I’m going to hurt you because this is what you want. This is how you want it to end. You have shown me that the only way that I can be sure is to keep coming, to keep raining those blows, to not let up until you’re not even recognizable as a human being anymore!
You want to change the rules? You want me to come at you with everything I’ve got, you want to take mercy off the damned table?
Teo’s face finally twists into something resembling joy...but only for an instant. His white teeth flash in the pale firelight, his face contorted and twisted into a devilish expression that is equal parts excitement and fury.
Teo Blaze: Congratulations, you get your christmas wish. You get to see what happens when you make me mad. When you spit on the legacy of this championship, and you try to steal its glory, to work your way into a match you do not deserve off of others making the mistake of giving a shit about you.
As Teo speaks, something becomes clear in the background. The flames from the fireplace have spread over the sweater onto the carpet of the set, which now begins to crackle and roar a well. As Teo stands, his entire body consumed by passion, the flames begin to roar behind him, growing in ferocity along with Teo’s words until he is practically wreathed in flame.
Teo Blaze:...Truth be told Vincent, I am a little glad that you won that match last week.
Because you have absolved me of any guilt I might feel for what I do. You have shown me that I need not feel bad for what happens in that ring, that I need not burden myself with the responsibility.
Because, you despicable piece of shit, you lying, cheating, manipulative bastard…
You have orchestrated your own downfall. You have shown me that all you have, the only! Way that you can win this championship?
Is if I let you.
If I let you stand in that ring, begging, pleading for me to relent, to allow you to suffer in peace, to end the agony, and if even for an instant, I feel something for Vincent Augustine?
I open that window.
So congratulations, Vince.
Because I am going to hurt you this week. It is not going to be pretty, and it is not going to be technical.
It’s going to be violent.
I am going to burn away every!
The flames erupt behind Teo, leaving him as a sillhouette standing among the roaring inferno.
Teo Blaze: -Ounce of cowardice that you have! I will take from you what little you have until there is nothing left!
And I.
Will feel.
Nothing.
Teo turns around, the flames lick at his ankles, but he does not hesitate as he steps through them, bending down to retrieve the Television Championship from the flames. Despite the intense heat, the belt is virtually unchanged, perhaps shining even brighter in the orange light.
Teo turns and holds up the Television Championship with his left hand as he holds out his right hand.
Teo Blaze: Merry Christmas, Vincent. And to all a good night.
Teo snaps the fingers of his right hand. Almost immediately, the flames vanish, leaving only Teo’s sillhouette in the darkness.
As white snow begins to fall once more over the scene.