Post by Torture on Oct 4, 2006 13:30:23 GMT -5
- It's not exactly known where the hell this scene is, but one thing is known for sure... it's dark. Well, now that I said that, lights become to turn on like some cliche horror movie. One man stands there on a white floor surface, surrounded by white walls, with white lights making this one man stand out above the rest. Gold around his waist shines like the sun on a spring day in downtown Los Angeles, California.
- No shadows. No movement. Calm, yet tough. Torture just stands there. From his spiked hair to his tattooed chest. Wrestling tights down to his black wrestling boots. Right then and there, a voice comes over what we are seeing. It's not The One and Only's voice though. This voice is dark and is coming from somewhere else.
Voice: Championships are meant to be won. Records are meant to be broken. Undefeated streaks are supposed to be just that.. streaks of wins. Losers are meant to fall, but to rise again, and in this case, supposed to fall once more. However... if it all went down like it was supposed to. If the challenger was to rise and beat the Champion, and if everything was already planned... who would watch Wrestling Championship Federation?
- Torture takes his arms that are by his side and crosses them by his chest. His sunglasses reclect the lights from the other side of the camera right back into the face of the camera.
Torture: This sunday, New Dynasty stands tall once more, and takes on the challengers again. Chino, Jackhammer and Zafirah. You guys got nothing. Like it was said.. if you guys were supposed to win, if you guys were supposed to beat me, and if you were supposed to win the World Title like everyone else thought... who would have stayed intrested? You guys are just like everyone else in the WCF. Average wrestlers with average lives. This Sunday at Slam, you guys get a first class lesson in what it's really like to be up against a New Dynasty.
- Torture, still standing with his arms crossed. He now moves them, and slides his sunglasses off. His right hand... better yet, his index finger and thumb holds the end of the sunglasses as they dangle down by his side. His left hand just hangs down. He looks dead straight into the camera. Both eyes glazed with substance. A substance that isn't exactly known yet. It's just so hard to tell what goes on inside his head. That dead look just stares into the camera.
Torture: Welcome to our tabernacle.
- Still standing there, looking into the camera. Lights begin to turn off from the rear of the room coming towards the camera. One by one like a cliche horror movie. The light right above Torture turns off, and the room goes completely dark. Scene fades out.
- No shadows. No movement. Calm, yet tough. Torture just stands there. From his spiked hair to his tattooed chest. Wrestling tights down to his black wrestling boots. Right then and there, a voice comes over what we are seeing. It's not The One and Only's voice though. This voice is dark and is coming from somewhere else.
Voice: Championships are meant to be won. Records are meant to be broken. Undefeated streaks are supposed to be just that.. streaks of wins. Losers are meant to fall, but to rise again, and in this case, supposed to fall once more. However... if it all went down like it was supposed to. If the challenger was to rise and beat the Champion, and if everything was already planned... who would watch Wrestling Championship Federation?
- Torture takes his arms that are by his side and crosses them by his chest. His sunglasses reclect the lights from the other side of the camera right back into the face of the camera.
Torture: This sunday, New Dynasty stands tall once more, and takes on the challengers again. Chino, Jackhammer and Zafirah. You guys got nothing. Like it was said.. if you guys were supposed to win, if you guys were supposed to beat me, and if you were supposed to win the World Title like everyone else thought... who would have stayed intrested? You guys are just like everyone else in the WCF. Average wrestlers with average lives. This Sunday at Slam, you guys get a first class lesson in what it's really like to be up against a New Dynasty.
- Torture, still standing with his arms crossed. He now moves them, and slides his sunglasses off. His right hand... better yet, his index finger and thumb holds the end of the sunglasses as they dangle down by his side. His left hand just hangs down. He looks dead straight into the camera. Both eyes glazed with substance. A substance that isn't exactly known yet. It's just so hard to tell what goes on inside his head. That dead look just stares into the camera.
Torture: Welcome to our tabernacle.
- Still standing there, looking into the camera. Lights begin to turn off from the rear of the room coming towards the camera. One by one like a cliche horror movie. The light right above Torture turns off, and the room goes completely dark. Scene fades out.
