Post by Corey Black on Oct 12, 2006 23:35:13 GMT -5
Our scene opens up to Creeping Death's black Chrysler 300C speeding along a road lined with trees. It's basically a road in the middle of a forest. The time is probably around midnight, as it's pitch dark minus the headlights and moon. The road winds through the trees, and CD seems to be cruising along at a high rate of speed. We are unable to see inside the car due to the tinted windows. A green sign along the side of the road reads "Blairstown, New Jersey" in white. CD continues to speed down until he violently swerves off the main road onto a lesser dirt road, fishtailing a couple times along the way. The camera has a hard time following, but does so. Dirt kicked up clouds vision, until CD apparently yanks the e-brake, locking up the back wheels and sliding to a hault unfront of a big archway. The archway reads:
Camp Crystal Lake
The driver door opens, and Creeping Death steps out amidst the cloud of dust. CD takes a deep breath and begins walking towards the forest.
Creeping Death: This is where it all began. You've all seen the movies. A small child presumably drowns during summer camp, while the counselors engage in sexual activity. In reality, he was living in these woods, waiting. His mother came back to the camp, killing everyone. When his mother was killed, Jason came out of the woods for revenge, killing those he saw fit.
That's like the power I have over XIII. I came out of the woods, and declared my victims. In one day, we will see their demise. Look at Logan and Reckless Jack. I have had battles with both men in and out of WCF, many times each. Each and every time, nothing is solved. They still don't respect me for my ability in and out of the ring. They still don't think I deserve to be where I am now. That is why I placed them where they think I belong ... at the bottom of the card. On top of that, they hate eachother, and if one happens to injure the other, it would be a joyous occation for all parties involved.
Moving onto Jack of Blades. Regardless if you knew Carr was going to help you win my Hardcore Title or not, it was underhanded, and you really should have lost. I was never given a rightful rematch, and even when given the chance to make things right, I decided against it, as another man in Skyler Striker had proven himself worthy of a match. Jack, we will meet again down the road, and this time, you'll fall by my hands. You may not think much of me, but that's the general census here in WCF. It is common knowlage that I am very good friends with who is running WCF now. Do I use that to my advantage, however? No. Not really. I'll surely voice my opinion on matters, but not once have I used the friendship to get to where I am. People that use that as an excuse piss me off.
Seth Lerch, I don't have the slightest clue what your crazy ass is doing around here still, but as far as I know, this company belongs to Kyle Steel and the committee. You may have invented WCF, and served as head for a long ... long time, but that gives you no right whatsoever to interfere in a World Title Match. Let alone a World Title Match that has a member of the New Dynasty in it. I'm going to love watching both those men you screwed over get the chance to beat your sorry ass all over my show.
Chino, Chino, Chino. Where to begin? You're next to useless. Saying you're big eight hundred times won't get you anywhere. Being a drug addict will surely get somewhere, though. Prison. You really are lucky to be where you are, if it wasn't for Drake leaving and you coming in during Torture's segment, you'd still be in mid-card jobber hell. Sure, you can cut eighteen promos a day, but when it's all said and done, you have to be good enough to win a competition in the ring.
And now, finishing off with Lawnmower Jones, in the first ever Camp Crystal Lake Match. It really is simple enough. Destroy your opponent just like how little Jason was destroyed all those years ago. Throw them off the dock and watch as they lie there and die. A good fifteen foot drop into a double stack of tables will surely mess someone up good. That was the design. Someone's going to be hurt. Not at one hundred percent going into Helloween. That mess, however, will have to wait until XIII.
CD reaches the edge of the lake, with the dock and camp counselor house to his right. Clouds roll in, and it quickly starts to rain. CD casually walks to the house and opens up the door. Inside is a normal looking house. TV, couch, chair, tables, upstairs, the whole nine yards. Creeping Death leans against a nearby wall and continues speaking.
Creeping Death: Lawnmower Jones, we've been in the ring before, and it surely wasn't pretty. As odd as you are, you are a good match. One of the few here in WCF. You've got the core of the ToT, Logan, Lawnmower Jones, and Jack of Blades. Who else do you guys even have now? Seems like people are moving in and out at will. Regardless of your stable activity, it's down to you and me. One on one. For the Television Title I never lost. I held that belt in 2004, and unified it with the World. Ever since Logan restablished it, I've felt it should be mine. I saw it trade many hands, not once coming towards me. I put the TV Title on the line in this match to regain what is rightfully mine. For two years, what is rightfully mine.
Creeping Death walks through the kitchen to the back door, opening it up, and exiting the house. CD walks down a short path to the dock, where he pauses, and looks down.[/i]
Creeping Death: At XIII, there will not be water below the dock, but a lake of wood and metal meant to seriously hurt someone. Water will do no such thing. Water will cradle your body, while tables will break it.
CD walks out to the end of the dock, soaked from the rain, lightning crashing everywhere. Waves splash up the dock, causing even more water to fly around. Creeping Death stops at the end of the dock and looks out over the lake and thunderstorm.
Creeping Death: Friday the thirteenth, at XIII, Lawnmower Jones, the bell tolls for ... you.
A final shot of Creeping Death watching the light show as we fade to black.
Camp Crystal Lake
The driver door opens, and Creeping Death steps out amidst the cloud of dust. CD takes a deep breath and begins walking towards the forest.
Creeping Death: This is where it all began. You've all seen the movies. A small child presumably drowns during summer camp, while the counselors engage in sexual activity. In reality, he was living in these woods, waiting. His mother came back to the camp, killing everyone. When his mother was killed, Jason came out of the woods for revenge, killing those he saw fit.
That's like the power I have over XIII. I came out of the woods, and declared my victims. In one day, we will see their demise. Look at Logan and Reckless Jack. I have had battles with both men in and out of WCF, many times each. Each and every time, nothing is solved. They still don't respect me for my ability in and out of the ring. They still don't think I deserve to be where I am now. That is why I placed them where they think I belong ... at the bottom of the card. On top of that, they hate eachother, and if one happens to injure the other, it would be a joyous occation for all parties involved.
Moving onto Jack of Blades. Regardless if you knew Carr was going to help you win my Hardcore Title or not, it was underhanded, and you really should have lost. I was never given a rightful rematch, and even when given the chance to make things right, I decided against it, as another man in Skyler Striker had proven himself worthy of a match. Jack, we will meet again down the road, and this time, you'll fall by my hands. You may not think much of me, but that's the general census here in WCF. It is common knowlage that I am very good friends with who is running WCF now. Do I use that to my advantage, however? No. Not really. I'll surely voice my opinion on matters, but not once have I used the friendship to get to where I am. People that use that as an excuse piss me off.
Seth Lerch, I don't have the slightest clue what your crazy ass is doing around here still, but as far as I know, this company belongs to Kyle Steel and the committee. You may have invented WCF, and served as head for a long ... long time, but that gives you no right whatsoever to interfere in a World Title Match. Let alone a World Title Match that has a member of the New Dynasty in it. I'm going to love watching both those men you screwed over get the chance to beat your sorry ass all over my show.
Chino, Chino, Chino. Where to begin? You're next to useless. Saying you're big eight hundred times won't get you anywhere. Being a drug addict will surely get somewhere, though. Prison. You really are lucky to be where you are, if it wasn't for Drake leaving and you coming in during Torture's segment, you'd still be in mid-card jobber hell. Sure, you can cut eighteen promos a day, but when it's all said and done, you have to be good enough to win a competition in the ring.
And now, finishing off with Lawnmower Jones, in the first ever Camp Crystal Lake Match. It really is simple enough. Destroy your opponent just like how little Jason was destroyed all those years ago. Throw them off the dock and watch as they lie there and die. A good fifteen foot drop into a double stack of tables will surely mess someone up good. That was the design. Someone's going to be hurt. Not at one hundred percent going into Helloween. That mess, however, will have to wait until XIII.
CD reaches the edge of the lake, with the dock and camp counselor house to his right. Clouds roll in, and it quickly starts to rain. CD casually walks to the house and opens up the door. Inside is a normal looking house. TV, couch, chair, tables, upstairs, the whole nine yards. Creeping Death leans against a nearby wall and continues speaking.
Creeping Death: Lawnmower Jones, we've been in the ring before, and it surely wasn't pretty. As odd as you are, you are a good match. One of the few here in WCF. You've got the core of the ToT, Logan, Lawnmower Jones, and Jack of Blades. Who else do you guys even have now? Seems like people are moving in and out at will. Regardless of your stable activity, it's down to you and me. One on one. For the Television Title I never lost. I held that belt in 2004, and unified it with the World. Ever since Logan restablished it, I've felt it should be mine. I saw it trade many hands, not once coming towards me. I put the TV Title on the line in this match to regain what is rightfully mine. For two years, what is rightfully mine.
Creeping Death walks through the kitchen to the back door, opening it up, and exiting the house. CD walks down a short path to the dock, where he pauses, and looks down.[/i]
Creeping Death: At XIII, there will not be water below the dock, but a lake of wood and metal meant to seriously hurt someone. Water will do no such thing. Water will cradle your body, while tables will break it.
CD walks out to the end of the dock, soaked from the rain, lightning crashing everywhere. Waves splash up the dock, causing even more water to fly around. Creeping Death stops at the end of the dock and looks out over the lake and thunderstorm.
Creeping Death: Friday the thirteenth, at XIII, Lawnmower Jones, the bell tolls for ... you.
A final shot of Creeping Death watching the light show as we fade to black.
