Post by Alex Richards on Mar 4, 2014 22:16:58 GMT -5
Narration: There are many nice, famous, positive things about Denver, Colorado. The clean mountain air, their sports teams such as the Colorado Avalanche, and the Super Bowl Finalist Denver Broncos. Sights like the Rocky Mountains. But that... that.. is not what I'm all about. That is not the area I'm most comfortable in. So instead I bring you to the dark underside of Denver. A seedy, on the verge of going broke, probably serves minors who then drive drunk pub those names I have blacked out on this feed because I don't want them to gain even one customer from free publicity I will have given them. It is in the notorious crime ridden district of Five Points however. I suggest if you're curious you come here after dark and find it. But it is not dark, in fact it is just before 11 in the morning. A lone figure stands outside of said bar. He is waiting for it to open. His eyes are still red from yesterday's drinking. His clothes are tattered, torn, and soiled. His breathe smells like he has eaten raw sewage. The rest of him somehow smells even worse. Who would approach him you might ask? I'm Alexander Richards and this is your first dose of enlightenment.
( The previous described man is shaking, obviously jonesing for a drink as a massive man approaches him even in his dazed state he stops and stares. The muscular, bald headed, tattooed form of Alexander Richards approaches a slight, but oddly sinister, smile on his face. He is wearing black jeans and a black t shirt with blood red lettering that states I like to torture small animals... man. The door opens and the first man enters looking relieved. Alexander follows him puts his arm around his shoulder and begins to speak. )
Richards: Hello Jack, let's get a table shall we?
Man: But.. I.. don't.. Who? I'm not even Jack. You have the wrong...
Richards: I don't care what your name is. As to who I am. I'm going to tell you. But you are Jack. You really shouldn't lie to me. I'm the type of man who does my homework. I'm the type of man who plans things out. I don't appreciate the deception. You probably don't want to lie to me again.
Jack: Sorry.
Richards: Better. Now sit down. I know you want a drink but you're going to have to wait. I want you to listen to what I have to say with a clear head, as clear as you can manage anyhow.
Jack: Hell with that. I'm getting a drink.
Richards: You do and it'll be your last. Look around. There are three people in here, you, the bartender, and I. He won't help you. You won't make it halfway to the door. It won't last long. But it will be painful. I'll make sure of that.
Jack: Who are you?
Richards: I'm Alexander Richards. The Enlightened One. You may have noticed that the WCF has a show this weekend. That's why I'm here. Well in town. I'm here to share my story. So you listen, I speak, and at the end of it I just may not end your pathetic little life. How does that sound?
( Jack nods. )
Richards: Good. That may be the first smart decision you've ever made. At one point in my life. I wasn't enlightened at all. I was merely Alec Richards. Everyone thought I was a good kid. I wanted them all to think I was a good kid. I was a bit of a people pleaser. Okay I was a lot of a people pleaser. I said the right things, I got good grades in school, I played on sports teams, I spent a lot of time at the gym a lot of time at the gym. I thought I'd highlight that since it is the only thing I used to do back in the day I kept up. When I finished high school I kept right on doing the sames I always did. Acting the same as everyone else. Acting was key you see. Because I pretended to be happy, I pretended to enjoy the same things other people did. But I thought it was real. I thought it was normal. Then everything changed. The day I met that promoter. He was looking for local wrestling talent. He saw me and thought he could make a lot of money so he convinced me to get into wrestling.
Jack: And you hated it.
Richards: No, I loved it. The Promoter wasn't the most creative guy around so he gave me the moniker of Mighty Mark Muscles. I'll bet you want a visual.
( Alexander reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a crumpled photo. He slaps it on the table causing Jack to jump slightly. Then he tries to stifle a laugh as he sees the picture. It is of Alexander but know he is wearing a blue speedo and has long blonde hair and very hulkish facial hair. )
Richards: Go ahead and laugh. It's funny. But back then poor Alec wasn't in on the joke. I loved the fact the fans of the International World Wrestling Federation loved me. I was their top fan favourite until the night everything changed. The night I started to become enlightened. I was in a match against The Holy Terror. A face painted veteran who on this night decided he was jealous of my physique. He was jealous of my popularity. So he decided he was going to punish me. He decided he was going to prove him he was the best. He was giving me the beating of my lifetime, at least at that point. When all of the sudden..
( The IWWF has since gone under so purchasing a clip from Muscles final match was pretty easy. So here it is. The fight has gone to the floor where Terror is lighting up the bleeding young Mark Muscles with a series of chops. Mark reels backwards as the Terror advances. He goes for an Irish whip right into the ring post but this time it's reversed by Mark. He follows Holy Terror in clotheslining him face first into the ringpost. The crowd, which is a decent crowd, gives a nice cheer for their hero. Mark picks up Terror for what appears to be an atomic drop... then changes his mind and climbs to the ring apron still holding the Terror. He falls backwards landing himself on the arena floor and delivering a vicious hot shot on Terror right onto the ring railing. The blood flies from Terror's face covering the first three rows. The referee immediately calls for help from the back. Medics rush towards the ring as Alec sits up and smiles. )
Jack: you smiled?
Richards: For the first time I did what I was born to do! For the first time the only person I pleased.. was me! And it was wonderful! The most alive I ever felt.
Jack: you don't regret it?
Richards: I do regret doing it. Because if I hadn't.. I could do it again right now!
Jack: But surely you were charged.
Richards: That was the best part. Because you see, even thought I knew it felt so right. It still made so many people angry. So I doubted myself. I thought it was wrong. I apologized. I cried. And even though it was unintentional.. it worked. People thought it was an accident. I went to jail for under a year for involuntary manslaughter.
Jack: Wow.. that's justice for ya.
Richards: I went to jail and at first I thought I was scared. I was young, there were all these vicious hardened criminals. Especially my cell mate, Scott Jansen. You can look him up. He's still in prison, serving a life sentence. One I made much more difficult.
Jack: I think I heard of him. Can't remember much. He raped and murdered some girl didn't he?
Richards: I'm surprised with your alcohol stewed brain you can remember anything at all. But yeah that's more or less correct. While he was in prison he did much of the same. Only now he was raping and torturing men.
Jack: So he raped you?
Richards: He wanted to. But he'll wish to his dying day he never tried. Now if you look at me you'd never think of me as a victim. But then I was still a massive 6'4 300 pound man but I was just a scared kid. But then while he was beating me, undressing me... I thought this is what life is all about. Life is about forcing your will on others! Life is about taking whatever you want and damning the consciences!
Jack: So you raped him?
Richards: You're a sick man Jack. I didn't rape him. I don't enjoy raping people. What kind of a sick freak do you think I am. No instead I beat him to within an inch of his life. But that wasn't good enough. When a predator tries to violate your space, tries to take from you, you have to make sure they never make that mistake again. I went under his bunk and found a toothbrush that had been sharpened. Then I used it to severe his penis!
Jack: Oh my god..
( Jack turns a pale shade as Alexander smiles wide fondly remembering the “good old days”)
Richards: The blood, the screaming. Then I forced it down his throat. Then I called for the guards.
Jack: You felt bad?
Richards: No! I didn't want him to bleed to death! I wanted him to have to live with what I had done to him! Go visit him in prison Jack.. mention my name. To this day you'll still see that haunted look, that look of sheer terror. That.. that.. is what I live for. The Holy Terror died, I needed a victim who lived on to grow my legacy. Now.. now.. you may have that drink..
Jack: I...I...I... haven't the stomach.
Richards: Then you should run. Before I change my mind.
( Jack runs from the bar. Alexander laughs heartily watching him up. He pulls out a cigar and lights it, then stuffs his picture back in his pocket. He motions to the cameraman to come over. )
Richards: Well since our friend Jack has cold feet why don't you sit down and we'll finish things up. What's your name?
Cameraman: Wait a second, you knew that guy's name. Why don't you know mine?
Richards: He was wearing a name tag. He was just in too much of a stupor to figure that out.
Cameraman: Guess that makes sense. I'm Shawn.
Richards: Well Shawn you're in luck. I'm requesting you for all my television appearances. I want someone around here to really get to know me.
Shawn: Isn't James Herringbone your friend? He probably knows you.
Richards: Friend? Hardly. James and I are business partners. We are in the business of making others suffer for our own personal amusement. I don't have friends but if I did James wouldn't be one of them. Soon or later one or both of us will get bored.. and thus ends the partnership. But think about this.. James and I are using each other. When the other isn't useful.. that's the end. What do you think I'd do to people who I don';t have any use for?
Shawn: I don't wanna know. And why are you smoking? That's illegal.
Richards: All you have to do is carry yourself the right way and people let you do most anything you want. They are passive. If you're aggressive they get out of the way. Now you should ask me about my match this week.
Shawn: Umm.. ah... what do you think your, um, chances are?
Richards: Do I make you nervous Shawn? I already implied I wasn't going to hurt you. Yet I still make you nervous. You can sense the threat within me. My opponents this week. I am going to hurt them. My chances for personal enlightenment are very good this week. Their chances for leaving under their own power. Much less so. Now let's play a game. You name an opponent I'll state their chances of survival.
Shawn: Okay. Artyom.
Richards: Not very good. Sorry Artyom, the cold war is over. Being a big muscle bound Russian might have scared people in the 80s but in this day and age there are far scarier monsters. Like this one. I'd say more about him but since he doesn't seem to put in any effort why should I? I predict after the beating I give him he'll never step foot in the ring again. Which might make him among the smartest of my victims.
Shawn: Fer..
Richards: you know what don't bother. Fernando Rodriquez, Collin Corona, Tommy Greco. None of these men who would it's like to truly put their lives into the hands of another. But they will. And once they have finally stopped screaming they'll know to choose their fate better next time. I predict none of them will want another round with me once they are done. When they look into my eyes and see what I can do they will think to themselves never again. They aren't probably motivated. They don't know why they wrestle. They might want fame, they might want titles, they might even want to find love. But me.. I'm just here chasing that high. The high that can only be achieved by completely dominating and destroying another's will.
Shawn: How about Crisis. He sounds like more of a challenge.
Richards: That's what he thinks. I heard him talking about how he was send my the devil. As if that's supposed to make me quaver in fear. I'm sure one day I will indeed see the devil. But it won't be at your hands. Crisis, like myself you enjoy hurting people. You like seeing others suffer. But there's the difference. Deep down Crisis.. you're a coward. When you were a kid, you terrorized everyone you encountered. Except for your father. The one person you truly hated. You could have stopped him from killing your mother and your brother. All you had to do was strike first. But you didn't. Instead you went after weaker prey. That speaks poorly of your character and your chances tonight. I always want the strongest possible victims. I don't satisfy myself by just annihilating the weak. I want to humble the strong as well. Deep down Crisis, in spite of all the people you hurt you're still a coward and when someone big, stronger, and tougher than you comes along.... You'll fail. Sadly for you your first night in the WCF is that night. I can hardly wait for Sunday! Until then.. consider yourselves enlightened. But if you truly were.. you wouldn't even bother showing up.
( Alexander stands and walks off ending the scene. )
( The previous described man is shaking, obviously jonesing for a drink as a massive man approaches him even in his dazed state he stops and stares. The muscular, bald headed, tattooed form of Alexander Richards approaches a slight, but oddly sinister, smile on his face. He is wearing black jeans and a black t shirt with blood red lettering that states I like to torture small animals... man. The door opens and the first man enters looking relieved. Alexander follows him puts his arm around his shoulder and begins to speak. )
Richards: Hello Jack, let's get a table shall we?
Man: But.. I.. don't.. Who? I'm not even Jack. You have the wrong...
Richards: I don't care what your name is. As to who I am. I'm going to tell you. But you are Jack. You really shouldn't lie to me. I'm the type of man who does my homework. I'm the type of man who plans things out. I don't appreciate the deception. You probably don't want to lie to me again.
Jack: Sorry.
Richards: Better. Now sit down. I know you want a drink but you're going to have to wait. I want you to listen to what I have to say with a clear head, as clear as you can manage anyhow.
Jack: Hell with that. I'm getting a drink.
Richards: You do and it'll be your last. Look around. There are three people in here, you, the bartender, and I. He won't help you. You won't make it halfway to the door. It won't last long. But it will be painful. I'll make sure of that.
Jack: Who are you?
Richards: I'm Alexander Richards. The Enlightened One. You may have noticed that the WCF has a show this weekend. That's why I'm here. Well in town. I'm here to share my story. So you listen, I speak, and at the end of it I just may not end your pathetic little life. How does that sound?
( Jack nods. )
Richards: Good. That may be the first smart decision you've ever made. At one point in my life. I wasn't enlightened at all. I was merely Alec Richards. Everyone thought I was a good kid. I wanted them all to think I was a good kid. I was a bit of a people pleaser. Okay I was a lot of a people pleaser. I said the right things, I got good grades in school, I played on sports teams, I spent a lot of time at the gym a lot of time at the gym. I thought I'd highlight that since it is the only thing I used to do back in the day I kept up. When I finished high school I kept right on doing the sames I always did. Acting the same as everyone else. Acting was key you see. Because I pretended to be happy, I pretended to enjoy the same things other people did. But I thought it was real. I thought it was normal. Then everything changed. The day I met that promoter. He was looking for local wrestling talent. He saw me and thought he could make a lot of money so he convinced me to get into wrestling.
Jack: And you hated it.
Richards: No, I loved it. The Promoter wasn't the most creative guy around so he gave me the moniker of Mighty Mark Muscles. I'll bet you want a visual.
( Alexander reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a crumpled photo. He slaps it on the table causing Jack to jump slightly. Then he tries to stifle a laugh as he sees the picture. It is of Alexander but know he is wearing a blue speedo and has long blonde hair and very hulkish facial hair. )
Richards: Go ahead and laugh. It's funny. But back then poor Alec wasn't in on the joke. I loved the fact the fans of the International World Wrestling Federation loved me. I was their top fan favourite until the night everything changed. The night I started to become enlightened. I was in a match against The Holy Terror. A face painted veteran who on this night decided he was jealous of my physique. He was jealous of my popularity. So he decided he was going to punish me. He decided he was going to prove him he was the best. He was giving me the beating of my lifetime, at least at that point. When all of the sudden..
( The IWWF has since gone under so purchasing a clip from Muscles final match was pretty easy. So here it is. The fight has gone to the floor where Terror is lighting up the bleeding young Mark Muscles with a series of chops. Mark reels backwards as the Terror advances. He goes for an Irish whip right into the ring post but this time it's reversed by Mark. He follows Holy Terror in clotheslining him face first into the ringpost. The crowd, which is a decent crowd, gives a nice cheer for their hero. Mark picks up Terror for what appears to be an atomic drop... then changes his mind and climbs to the ring apron still holding the Terror. He falls backwards landing himself on the arena floor and delivering a vicious hot shot on Terror right onto the ring railing. The blood flies from Terror's face covering the first three rows. The referee immediately calls for help from the back. Medics rush towards the ring as Alec sits up and smiles. )
Jack: you smiled?
Richards: For the first time I did what I was born to do! For the first time the only person I pleased.. was me! And it was wonderful! The most alive I ever felt.
Jack: you don't regret it?
Richards: I do regret doing it. Because if I hadn't.. I could do it again right now!
Jack: But surely you were charged.
Richards: That was the best part. Because you see, even thought I knew it felt so right. It still made so many people angry. So I doubted myself. I thought it was wrong. I apologized. I cried. And even though it was unintentional.. it worked. People thought it was an accident. I went to jail for under a year for involuntary manslaughter.
Jack: Wow.. that's justice for ya.
Richards: I went to jail and at first I thought I was scared. I was young, there were all these vicious hardened criminals. Especially my cell mate, Scott Jansen. You can look him up. He's still in prison, serving a life sentence. One I made much more difficult.
Jack: I think I heard of him. Can't remember much. He raped and murdered some girl didn't he?
Richards: I'm surprised with your alcohol stewed brain you can remember anything at all. But yeah that's more or less correct. While he was in prison he did much of the same. Only now he was raping and torturing men.
Jack: So he raped you?
Richards: He wanted to. But he'll wish to his dying day he never tried. Now if you look at me you'd never think of me as a victim. But then I was still a massive 6'4 300 pound man but I was just a scared kid. But then while he was beating me, undressing me... I thought this is what life is all about. Life is about forcing your will on others! Life is about taking whatever you want and damning the consciences!
Jack: So you raped him?
Richards: You're a sick man Jack. I didn't rape him. I don't enjoy raping people. What kind of a sick freak do you think I am. No instead I beat him to within an inch of his life. But that wasn't good enough. When a predator tries to violate your space, tries to take from you, you have to make sure they never make that mistake again. I went under his bunk and found a toothbrush that had been sharpened. Then I used it to severe his penis!
Jack: Oh my god..
( Jack turns a pale shade as Alexander smiles wide fondly remembering the “good old days”)
Richards: The blood, the screaming. Then I forced it down his throat. Then I called for the guards.
Jack: You felt bad?
Richards: No! I didn't want him to bleed to death! I wanted him to have to live with what I had done to him! Go visit him in prison Jack.. mention my name. To this day you'll still see that haunted look, that look of sheer terror. That.. that.. is what I live for. The Holy Terror died, I needed a victim who lived on to grow my legacy. Now.. now.. you may have that drink..
Jack: I...I...I... haven't the stomach.
Richards: Then you should run. Before I change my mind.
( Jack runs from the bar. Alexander laughs heartily watching him up. He pulls out a cigar and lights it, then stuffs his picture back in his pocket. He motions to the cameraman to come over. )
Richards: Well since our friend Jack has cold feet why don't you sit down and we'll finish things up. What's your name?
Cameraman: Wait a second, you knew that guy's name. Why don't you know mine?
Richards: He was wearing a name tag. He was just in too much of a stupor to figure that out.
Cameraman: Guess that makes sense. I'm Shawn.
Richards: Well Shawn you're in luck. I'm requesting you for all my television appearances. I want someone around here to really get to know me.
Shawn: Isn't James Herringbone your friend? He probably knows you.
Richards: Friend? Hardly. James and I are business partners. We are in the business of making others suffer for our own personal amusement. I don't have friends but if I did James wouldn't be one of them. Soon or later one or both of us will get bored.. and thus ends the partnership. But think about this.. James and I are using each other. When the other isn't useful.. that's the end. What do you think I'd do to people who I don';t have any use for?
Shawn: I don't wanna know. And why are you smoking? That's illegal.
Richards: All you have to do is carry yourself the right way and people let you do most anything you want. They are passive. If you're aggressive they get out of the way. Now you should ask me about my match this week.
Shawn: Umm.. ah... what do you think your, um, chances are?
Richards: Do I make you nervous Shawn? I already implied I wasn't going to hurt you. Yet I still make you nervous. You can sense the threat within me. My opponents this week. I am going to hurt them. My chances for personal enlightenment are very good this week. Their chances for leaving under their own power. Much less so. Now let's play a game. You name an opponent I'll state their chances of survival.
Shawn: Okay. Artyom.
Richards: Not very good. Sorry Artyom, the cold war is over. Being a big muscle bound Russian might have scared people in the 80s but in this day and age there are far scarier monsters. Like this one. I'd say more about him but since he doesn't seem to put in any effort why should I? I predict after the beating I give him he'll never step foot in the ring again. Which might make him among the smartest of my victims.
Shawn: Fer..
Richards: you know what don't bother. Fernando Rodriquez, Collin Corona, Tommy Greco. None of these men who would it's like to truly put their lives into the hands of another. But they will. And once they have finally stopped screaming they'll know to choose their fate better next time. I predict none of them will want another round with me once they are done. When they look into my eyes and see what I can do they will think to themselves never again. They aren't probably motivated. They don't know why they wrestle. They might want fame, they might want titles, they might even want to find love. But me.. I'm just here chasing that high. The high that can only be achieved by completely dominating and destroying another's will.
Shawn: How about Crisis. He sounds like more of a challenge.
Richards: That's what he thinks. I heard him talking about how he was send my the devil. As if that's supposed to make me quaver in fear. I'm sure one day I will indeed see the devil. But it won't be at your hands. Crisis, like myself you enjoy hurting people. You like seeing others suffer. But there's the difference. Deep down Crisis.. you're a coward. When you were a kid, you terrorized everyone you encountered. Except for your father. The one person you truly hated. You could have stopped him from killing your mother and your brother. All you had to do was strike first. But you didn't. Instead you went after weaker prey. That speaks poorly of your character and your chances tonight. I always want the strongest possible victims. I don't satisfy myself by just annihilating the weak. I want to humble the strong as well. Deep down Crisis, in spite of all the people you hurt you're still a coward and when someone big, stronger, and tougher than you comes along.... You'll fail. Sadly for you your first night in the WCF is that night. I can hardly wait for Sunday! Until then.. consider yourselves enlightened. But if you truly were.. you wouldn't even bother showing up.
( Alexander stands and walks off ending the scene. )
