Post by Corey Black on Nov 25, 2006 18:37:55 GMT -5
We open up to a familiar sight. The inside of a car speeding down a dark highway. A scene brought to fans and wrestlers alike many times. The speedometer glows a heavenly blue, while the CD player does the same, giving the inside of the car a blue aura lighting. Creeping Death is driving the car, a Chrysler 300c. Pumping out the CD player is "Enjoy the Silence" as covered by Lacuna Coil. The passenger seat is empty, an uncommon thing when CD is driving. Outside, it is raining sheets and buckets. Not literally, but the rain is seriously coming down hardcore. Lightning flashes like flashbulbs during the entrance of Johnny Nitro. Creeping Death stops the song, ejects the CD, and places it in his visor holder. CD then snags another CD, and places it in the player. But this time, he presses a button, and something comes straight out of the CD player, then folds up. A TV screen. CD put in a DVD. He presses play, and it's his match with Lawnmower Jones at XIII. The DVD shows CD dump Jones over the dock and through all the tables. Torture runs out, World Title in hand, and grabs the TV Title from the ref, coming right to CD, handing him the belt, and holding his hand up in victory. CD stops the DVD.
Creeping Death: That was the last big thing I did for this place. XIII, on October 13th. A little over a month ago. Has Torture done anything that big ... ever? I took that pay per view, I booked every single match, I made sure everything went as planned, and it was a giant success. To say I haven't done anything for this company is the most ridiculous statement anyone has ever said.
Torture, the last thing I did for you was be the best friend you could ask for. Whatever the problem was, I was there, or trying my hardest to get there. Remember what happened with Amanda? Who was there to help you through that time? Me. I went through the same exact bullshit, and I knew exactly what you were feeling. From then on, it was you and me. Me and you. Torture and Creeping Death, making people pissed off and laughing about it to their faces.
Creeping Death takes a sharp turn, almost causing the cameraman to topple over. CD clicks on his brights, and ejects the DVD, replacing it with more music. He clicks it to track number eight. "Who We Are" by Venaculas.
Creeping Death: Continuing with the outlandish statements, saying he's beat everyone I have and in less time? Frost? You never once faded Frost, Tort. You faced Creeping Death as Frost, and everyone knows I basically laid down for you. The Frost I fought for an hour in the Nightmare Chamber was the real deal. Yenisei Khan from Novosibirsk Siberia, not your friend Creeping Death in a Frost mask.
You were right about one thing, though. I am the Fergie of WCF. She has broken out on her own, without the aid of The Black Eyed Peas, and has a very successful single career coming up. Comparing me to Fergie would be like comparing you, Torture, to Will.i.am. Sure, you help a few people with their projects, but when it all comes down to it, Fergie is the star.
Rick Mad was indeed tag team champion multiple times outside of WCF ... with me. The most important being Net Championship Wrestling, basically the father to WCF. Other than me, as far as I know, Rick Mad has teamed up with PC Cradle and Bob the Cameraman. To say the least, PC Cradle carried that team. When it was Rick and I, it really was a team effort. We meshed well together, playing off each others strengths and hiding the weakness as best we could. A real team. Not a team where one carries the workload so his teammate could keep his word and job. Being the Droz to Rick Mad's LOD ... Droz is still employed by WWE, regardless of his injury. Where are Hawk and Animal? Dead and in seclusion. Right on the mark again, Torture. Good call, old pal, good call.
Creeping Death slows the 300c down, and makes a turn, into a big city. A sign says "Welcome to Des Moines". CD takes off down a busy street, whizzing by cars. In a matter of moments, Creeping Death is driving through the heart of Des Moines, by Jordan Creek Mall, the largest mall in Iowa, and onto University Avenue, pretty much the backbone street, everything is on Universty, or right off it.
Creeping Death: Torture, you'd get more credit if you weren't such an asshole about not getting said credit. How long did you go saying you're retire if you lost? Can't handle one blemish on your record? That's why you're not as respected as you think you should be.
And what is this XCW you speak of? I remember being in XCW, and having an Elimination Chamber match with Rick Mad, Lone Wolf, guys like that ... but not once do I remember booking, let alone booking a pay per view ... and booking myself in the main event. Something you have to remember Torture, my name is Creeping Death, not any other Metallica song you may be thinking of. I've been in XCW, I've won the World Title, I've beat the best they had to offer, but I didn't book anything. Red Fusion handled that, and he did it poorly.
I know what you hold is more than a World Title. I've had my hands in it before, and damnit, it was the best feeling in the world. Being on top, crushing the competition, there really is nothing like it. It is what we're all here for, it's what we all want, and it's what very few will ever accomplish. I congradulate you on getting as far as you have, and I apologize for having to knock you off your pedistal. When it's all over with, you'll not only lose the world, but that respect you so verily demand will never come to pass.
No bells, Torture. No bells this time. The bell tower is out of the question. Where I'm going means more than that. I need to go see someone that will prepare me for the punishment my body will inflict on yours. The tower is the darkest place I know of, and I will no doubt return there after our match, but in the grand sceme of things, I'm getting back to the Creeping Death that showed up, that came in and won championship after championship, not the sterotypical CD. Laziness? History. Prepare to meet the Human Horror Show.
Creeping Death yanks the emergency brake, sending the 300c into a slide, drifting into an alley. CD hits a few cardboard boxes before coming to a stop at the end of the alley. He steps out into the rain, and pulls the door down shut. CD opens a door, and the camera gets a glimpse inside while CD steps in. A wrestling ring is shown. A man standing there wearing all black, and white face paint. A bird flies out of the place as the door shuts behind CD. The bird lands on the 300c. It is a crow. The scene faces out, leaving with a shot of the crow pearched on the roof of CD's car.
Creeping Death: That was the last big thing I did for this place. XIII, on October 13th. A little over a month ago. Has Torture done anything that big ... ever? I took that pay per view, I booked every single match, I made sure everything went as planned, and it was a giant success. To say I haven't done anything for this company is the most ridiculous statement anyone has ever said.
Torture, the last thing I did for you was be the best friend you could ask for. Whatever the problem was, I was there, or trying my hardest to get there. Remember what happened with Amanda? Who was there to help you through that time? Me. I went through the same exact bullshit, and I knew exactly what you were feeling. From then on, it was you and me. Me and you. Torture and Creeping Death, making people pissed off and laughing about it to their faces.
Creeping Death takes a sharp turn, almost causing the cameraman to topple over. CD clicks on his brights, and ejects the DVD, replacing it with more music. He clicks it to track number eight. "Who We Are" by Venaculas.
Creeping Death: Continuing with the outlandish statements, saying he's beat everyone I have and in less time? Frost? You never once faded Frost, Tort. You faced Creeping Death as Frost, and everyone knows I basically laid down for you. The Frost I fought for an hour in the Nightmare Chamber was the real deal. Yenisei Khan from Novosibirsk Siberia, not your friend Creeping Death in a Frost mask.
You were right about one thing, though. I am the Fergie of WCF. She has broken out on her own, without the aid of The Black Eyed Peas, and has a very successful single career coming up. Comparing me to Fergie would be like comparing you, Torture, to Will.i.am. Sure, you help a few people with their projects, but when it all comes down to it, Fergie is the star.
Rick Mad was indeed tag team champion multiple times outside of WCF ... with me. The most important being Net Championship Wrestling, basically the father to WCF. Other than me, as far as I know, Rick Mad has teamed up with PC Cradle and Bob the Cameraman. To say the least, PC Cradle carried that team. When it was Rick and I, it really was a team effort. We meshed well together, playing off each others strengths and hiding the weakness as best we could. A real team. Not a team where one carries the workload so his teammate could keep his word and job. Being the Droz to Rick Mad's LOD ... Droz is still employed by WWE, regardless of his injury. Where are Hawk and Animal? Dead and in seclusion. Right on the mark again, Torture. Good call, old pal, good call.
Creeping Death slows the 300c down, and makes a turn, into a big city. A sign says "Welcome to Des Moines". CD takes off down a busy street, whizzing by cars. In a matter of moments, Creeping Death is driving through the heart of Des Moines, by Jordan Creek Mall, the largest mall in Iowa, and onto University Avenue, pretty much the backbone street, everything is on Universty, or right off it.
Creeping Death: Torture, you'd get more credit if you weren't such an asshole about not getting said credit. How long did you go saying you're retire if you lost? Can't handle one blemish on your record? That's why you're not as respected as you think you should be.
And what is this XCW you speak of? I remember being in XCW, and having an Elimination Chamber match with Rick Mad, Lone Wolf, guys like that ... but not once do I remember booking, let alone booking a pay per view ... and booking myself in the main event. Something you have to remember Torture, my name is Creeping Death, not any other Metallica song you may be thinking of. I've been in XCW, I've won the World Title, I've beat the best they had to offer, but I didn't book anything. Red Fusion handled that, and he did it poorly.
I know what you hold is more than a World Title. I've had my hands in it before, and damnit, it was the best feeling in the world. Being on top, crushing the competition, there really is nothing like it. It is what we're all here for, it's what we all want, and it's what very few will ever accomplish. I congradulate you on getting as far as you have, and I apologize for having to knock you off your pedistal. When it's all over with, you'll not only lose the world, but that respect you so verily demand will never come to pass.
No bells, Torture. No bells this time. The bell tower is out of the question. Where I'm going means more than that. I need to go see someone that will prepare me for the punishment my body will inflict on yours. The tower is the darkest place I know of, and I will no doubt return there after our match, but in the grand sceme of things, I'm getting back to the Creeping Death that showed up, that came in and won championship after championship, not the sterotypical CD. Laziness? History. Prepare to meet the Human Horror Show.
Creeping Death yanks the emergency brake, sending the 300c into a slide, drifting into an alley. CD hits a few cardboard boxes before coming to a stop at the end of the alley. He steps out into the rain, and pulls the door down shut. CD opens a door, and the camera gets a glimpse inside while CD steps in. A wrestling ring is shown. A man standing there wearing all black, and white face paint. A bird flies out of the place as the door shuts behind CD. The bird lands on the 300c. It is a crow. The scene faces out, leaving with a shot of the crow pearched on the roof of CD's car.
