Post by Corey Black on Nov 5, 2006 3:44:18 GMT -5
We open up to Creeping Death sitting on the bed in a Philadelphia hotel room, Television Title on his lap. CD has no shirt on, with his head down. Suddenly, he snaps his head upwards, sending his hair flinging back.
Creeping Death: In one night, ONE FUCKING NIGHT, my entire vision was destroyed. We walked into Hellimination a group of four friends, and we walked out four enemies. How the fuck could something like this happen?
CD recieves no answer.
Creeping Death: Nate Nytro, for the eight millionth time, does nothing but get his ass handed to him and helps us out none. Contrary to beliefs, I did not order Nate around. If I did, he'd still be around and not getting crushed in every single match. I did my best to give him the kick in the ass he needed, and once or twice, it worked. Hell, he held this Television Title just a few months ago. When Nate's heart is in it, he's amazing. The past few months, his heart was in it for two weeks. That's just not good enough.
Creeping Death stands up, and grabs the Television Title with one hand, carrying it across the room to the bathroom. CD places the belt on the sink, while looking into the mirror.
Creeping Death: I seriously don't have any idea what to do now. Seems like whoever I trust ends up a backstabbing piece of shit in the end. Rick Mad first, and now Torture and Dake. Heh, Dake. He's off shooting his mouth again now that we're against eachother. I've already explained my situation with Nate. The guy is awesome. Just ... lazy.
You, a hired gun though? Come on dude. Hired guns usually get the job done, not do the job. You can't sit there and say we didn't help you, when you're always laying face up on the mat any time you're needed. Stop thinking about yourself, Dake. It wasn't all about you. Or me. Or Nate. Or even Torture. It was about friends that got together to stand up. And we did. We stood strong. By we, of course, I mean Torture and I.
You were losing matches while I was making cards. Jobbing out while I turned guys that don't lose into table scraps. If I really was behind you as you say, I'd have gotten the aftershock of your ass beatings. Standing up for us backstage while you played your guitar and left us out to dry on more than one occasion. Talk about respect all you want, after the Logan-esque marathon mouth flap you pulled, I'd be surprised if your mother even respects you.
There was never a trap to get myself ahead. Only a vision that turned into a disaster. I don't need to use anyone to get ahead here, obviously. Your sudden change of character and views reminds me of A.J. Cage. ... I mean Brian Storm. ... whatever. You can't preach for months on end, only to change your mind in one day and honestly think you're right. If that's so, you're stupid for fooling yourself all this time. I've always been honest with you guys, you in particular, even moreso than Torture. We've been around these WCF parts for long enough, on either side, for me to know I could trust you. But using you to get ahead? Please. Go back to your XGWO dreamworld and come back to me when you're not contradicting yourself every eight seconds.
Creeping Death picks up the Television Title, and looks at it. Just gazing into the shiny silver. CD lowers the belt and walks back out into the main part of the hotel room before once again sitting on the bed.
Creeping Death: And here is where everything gets tricky. After everything we've been through. The relationship problems, the wrestling problems, titles, main events, friendships, EVERYTHING, Torture, you pull the swerve of a lifetime. And for what? Nobody knows. Speculation runs rampant, however. Pissed off I was in the main event of XIII? Pissed off that I was the top dog in the New Dynasty? Whatever the case may be, only two things are certain. One; you're going to pussyfoot all around the questions at hand. And two; I'm going to kill you.
Did you not see what happened to Rick Mad when he pulled this bullshit? When was the last time anyone has seen Rick Mad, the technical wizard? A year ago. Before he decided to be a moron and tried to destroy me. When push comes to shove Torture, you're no better than Kurtis Victory.
Creeping Death stands up and tosses the Television Title on the bed. It hits with a klunk as Jodia comes into view and places her hand on CD's back.
Jodia: Alright, alright, calm down. Get to bed. You have a long day ahead of you.
Creeping Death looks at Jodia and sighs. CD then sits on the bed and begins to undo his shoelaces as the scene fades out.
Creeping Death: In one night, ONE FUCKING NIGHT, my entire vision was destroyed. We walked into Hellimination a group of four friends, and we walked out four enemies. How the fuck could something like this happen?
CD recieves no answer.
Creeping Death: Nate Nytro, for the eight millionth time, does nothing but get his ass handed to him and helps us out none. Contrary to beliefs, I did not order Nate around. If I did, he'd still be around and not getting crushed in every single match. I did my best to give him the kick in the ass he needed, and once or twice, it worked. Hell, he held this Television Title just a few months ago. When Nate's heart is in it, he's amazing. The past few months, his heart was in it for two weeks. That's just not good enough.
Creeping Death stands up, and grabs the Television Title with one hand, carrying it across the room to the bathroom. CD places the belt on the sink, while looking into the mirror.
Creeping Death: I seriously don't have any idea what to do now. Seems like whoever I trust ends up a backstabbing piece of shit in the end. Rick Mad first, and now Torture and Dake. Heh, Dake. He's off shooting his mouth again now that we're against eachother. I've already explained my situation with Nate. The guy is awesome. Just ... lazy.
You, a hired gun though? Come on dude. Hired guns usually get the job done, not do the job. You can't sit there and say we didn't help you, when you're always laying face up on the mat any time you're needed. Stop thinking about yourself, Dake. It wasn't all about you. Or me. Or Nate. Or even Torture. It was about friends that got together to stand up. And we did. We stood strong. By we, of course, I mean Torture and I.
You were losing matches while I was making cards. Jobbing out while I turned guys that don't lose into table scraps. If I really was behind you as you say, I'd have gotten the aftershock of your ass beatings. Standing up for us backstage while you played your guitar and left us out to dry on more than one occasion. Talk about respect all you want, after the Logan-esque marathon mouth flap you pulled, I'd be surprised if your mother even respects you.
There was never a trap to get myself ahead. Only a vision that turned into a disaster. I don't need to use anyone to get ahead here, obviously. Your sudden change of character and views reminds me of A.J. Cage. ... I mean Brian Storm. ... whatever. You can't preach for months on end, only to change your mind in one day and honestly think you're right. If that's so, you're stupid for fooling yourself all this time. I've always been honest with you guys, you in particular, even moreso than Torture. We've been around these WCF parts for long enough, on either side, for me to know I could trust you. But using you to get ahead? Please. Go back to your XGWO dreamworld and come back to me when you're not contradicting yourself every eight seconds.
Creeping Death picks up the Television Title, and looks at it. Just gazing into the shiny silver. CD lowers the belt and walks back out into the main part of the hotel room before once again sitting on the bed.
Creeping Death: And here is where everything gets tricky. After everything we've been through. The relationship problems, the wrestling problems, titles, main events, friendships, EVERYTHING, Torture, you pull the swerve of a lifetime. And for what? Nobody knows. Speculation runs rampant, however. Pissed off I was in the main event of XIII? Pissed off that I was the top dog in the New Dynasty? Whatever the case may be, only two things are certain. One; you're going to pussyfoot all around the questions at hand. And two; I'm going to kill you.
Did you not see what happened to Rick Mad when he pulled this bullshit? When was the last time anyone has seen Rick Mad, the technical wizard? A year ago. Before he decided to be a moron and tried to destroy me. When push comes to shove Torture, you're no better than Kurtis Victory.
Creeping Death stands up and tosses the Television Title on the bed. It hits with a klunk as Jodia comes into view and places her hand on CD's back.
Jodia: Alright, alright, calm down. Get to bed. You have a long day ahead of you.
Creeping Death looks at Jodia and sighs. CD then sits on the bed and begins to undo his shoelaces as the scene fades out.
