Post by Jayson Price on Dec 27, 2015 17:23:04 GMT -5
December 26th, 2015
Somewhere in Philadelphia, PA
The scene opens with a shot of Jayson Price sitting at a desk, a piece of paper in front of him and a pen in his hand. In the background we see Creeping Death sharpening his machete.
Jayson Price: "Dear Torture, aka Cryboy McEmo Jr., aka Every Chick That Wrote Terrible Break-up Poetry, aka Gaping Mangina..."
Creeping Death: "We get it, you think he's a chick."
Jayson Price: "Hey, machete or not, nobody interrupts me when I'm on a roll. Now I can't remember the last zinger I had to use, you douche. Blubbering he-bitch? Teary eyed cuntbag? Fuck it, he'll get the point."
Death shakes his head as he goes back to sharpening his machete.
Jayson Price: "The last time I took a moment to sit and write to you, it was just before our teams were set to face off in the Trios Tournament earlier this year. I'm sure you don't remember the letter but I'm sure you remember the match itself. You, teaming with mismatched partners you found last minute, falling to myself and my team. It perfectly mirrors what we're set to do at One. There you stand, about to once again team with Jonny Fly, a man you had to find last minute because you have no friends or anyone willing to even remotely associate with you. The fact that Fly would reduce himself to teaming with you doesn't shock me, the man has been reducing himself for shock value for years to try and keep himself in the spotlight with his 'surprise reappearances'. Hell, I've got $20 that says he hasn't said a word to you since the night he showed up on Slam. One will be the first time you even have a chance to talk with him about the match and he'll blow you off because the only things on his mind will be the reaction of the crowd to his 'aura' and what he'll be doing during his next hiatus from WCF."
Creeping Death: "Rewatching his brother get absolutely brutalized at XIII?"
Jayson Price: "Eh, I've seen better attempted murder."
Death raises his machete and places the tip at Price's throat.
Jayson Price: "I mean, no I haven't. Come on, it was a joke."
Creeping Death "Ha."
Death lowers his machete as Price wipes away a drop of blood.
Jayson Price: "Jesus, I forgot how touchy you get about that shit."
Creeping Death: "Just get back to writing your little letter."
Price starts to say something but shrugs his shoulders and goes back to writing.
Jayson Price: "But what Fly does and doesn't have on his mind isn't what this is all about. No, this is all about you and me Torture. Creeping Death and Jonny Fly, they're along for the ride and they're going to play their parts, but you and I and everyone else know that this is, and always has been, about the two of us. We go back years. Team Of Torture. This Is WAR. The New Man Made Gods. From the time I started in WCF you've somehow always played a part in everything that I've done in this company. And you know what I've come to know about you after all of that time? Just how big of a fucking sad piece of shit you really are. I remember the Torture that I first met back in 2009. Ruthless. Evil. The fucking epitome of what a bad guy in wrestling was supposed to be. And then you've done nothing since that point but show me just how much smoke and mirrors your bad guy act is. The leaving and then returning for those fleeting moments of being in the spotlights again. You always were a glory hog, Torture, but since your first little hiatus from WCF you've only gotten worse. But I could look past all of that, let you just be another sad veteran trying to getting nostalgia pops, if it weren't for the crybaby act. The tears. The 'woe is me'. The 'DON'T YOU DARE FORGET THE WORLD IN WORLD HARDCORE CHAMPION'. Never before had I ever seen a man so fucking rich in what can only be described as period hormones.
Creeping Death: "His pussy was leaking more blood than his mongoloid brother's snot rag could keep up with."
Jayson Price: "Jesus fuck. Maybe I should let you talk more often. To quote Creeping Death, 'his pussy was leaking more blood than his mongoloid brother's snot rag could keep up with.' You were a disgusting mess of a man, as easily offended as a feminist on the rag with twice the amount of tears. So why did I agree to team with you when I was so fucking disgusted by what you had become? For the same reason that Creeping Death decided to work with me: To destroy you. I joined with you at WAR because I once again so an opportunity, only this time it was one to end what I saw as nothing more than an old dog that needed taken out behind the shed. I joined forces with you, preached from the mountaintops about the greatness of The New Man Made Gods, earned your trust and then dropped you face first with a Downfall when I saw the time was right. And I was right about my timing. I dropped you and you did absolutely nothing, just sat and stayed quiet like a good little bitch. But I didn't want that, Torture. I didn't want you to stay quiet and take it, I wanted to see some fucking emotion. I wanted to see you get angry. Deep down, I wanted to see that old, evil side of Torture come out and show some fight so that when I brought you down for good it actually meant something. So when turning on you didn't work, I made it even more personal. I went and I brought your brother into this rivalry when Creeping Death and I paid him a visit. We sat there in his room with him, torturing him to the point that he stopped breathing, only to resuscitate him and then keep torturing him. Oh you should have seen the looks of pain on his face, Torture. I know the video was played for the crowd on Slam but I don't even know if you saw all of it. But let me just paint a picture for you, Torture. He laid there, tears streaming down his face. Blood dripping from tiny little cuts, mixing with those tears and leaving red stains on his cheeks and his pillow. He kept trying to squeeze his eyelids closed but every little cut we made only made them fly open in pain and terror. Oh and those eyes of his. You'd never seen eyes as big as he had when I tied my belt around his throat and strangled him. You would have thought they were about to pop right out of their sockets."
Creeping Death: "If you hadn't stopped when he passed out, they would have."
Jayson Price: "Hey, I already told you I wasn't going in there trying to kill the little retard."
Creeping Death: "And that's the difference between you and I."
Jayson Price: "Well if I remember correctly, you didn't exactly finish him off. And then, when I did help bring him back, for just a fleeting moment I thought that he was finally going to say something. Say anything. But of course he didn't, he was even more broken than before. If you can even believe that's possible. So I brought in the wild card. Let Creeping Death have a little bit of his brand of fun until security finally realized that the screams they heard weren't the usual screams of the insane, but the screams of a man in pain. But believe me, those fleeting moments Death spent with Anthony were more than enough to show our point. By now I'm sure you've had time to sit at Anthony's bedside and share in his tears. Perhaps he's even managed a word to you. I wish I could have had a pair of eyes in the room the first time you walked into his room and saw what we had done to him. To see your reaction. Was it anger? Sadness? Did you shed tears at the sight of your pitiful brother? Did you rush to his side and hold him close or did you drop to your knees and scream my name like Kirk at the end of Wrath Of Khan? I'll tell you, in my dreams, you do both before you put a gun to the side of your head and pull the trigger. You just end it all because you've realized that you've lost."
Creeping Death: "Going out like a bitch suits him."
Jayson Price: "Finally, after a long wait, you finally emerged from your little pity party and decided to finally do something. You come at Creeping Death and I with Jonny Fly at your side. We challenged you to a tag team match at One, and you come at us with Jonny Fly. Mother fucking glory hounds unite, right? Well Torture, the last time you tried to reclaim a bit of your glory against me in a match, it didn't end so well for you. You've got your random partner once again and once again it's going to end with you in heartbreak. Only this time, after I've left you beaten and distraught, Creeping Death is going to be there to put you out of your misery. You are up for the job, aren't you?"
Death stops sharpening machete and holds it up to admire it.
Creeping Death: "Does a heart still pump after you rip it our of a living man's chest?"
Jayson Price: "Oh I like you so much more than Corey Black. If I had broken your arm, you'd have slit my throat and not just kicked me into a coma."
Creeping Death: "That's still on the table if you want."
Jayson Price: "Just save that for Torture and Fly. I don't know what you thought Jonny Fly was going to do for you in this match, but it changes nothing. You could have paid off Bobby Cairo to be your partner. You could have built a time machine, gone back to 2003 and brought back the still relevant Logan to be your partner. It wouldn't have mattered who you dug up or paid off, you were never going to win this match. Fly is nothing more than a seat filler playing the role of 'guy that's going to get beaten down when you inevitably run from the fight'. But whether I have to put you down inside the ring, outside the ring, on the ramp, on the stage or in the parking lot of the hotel you're staying at, I'm putting you the fuck down for good. What happened the last time you and I faced off at One isn't happening again. No, I'm waling out of One as the victor and you're being stretchered to the morgue to be tossed into the incinerator so that you can finally be like your career and go up in flames. Adios, mother fucker. Enjoy the last few hours before the match ends with you listening to the final beats of your heart. Sincerely, Jayson Price. P.S. Tell Anthony I said hello. P.P.S. Let him know I borrowed the watch your father left him in his will. It made for terrible toilet paper and clogged my toilet, so I'll be expecting one of you to pay for the plumbing bill.
Price sets down his bill and looks over to Creeping Death.
Jayson Price: "You know what to do tonight, right?"
Creeping Death: "You seriously asking me that right now?"
Jayson Price: "I just want to know that you're ready."
Creeping Death: "You just do what you need to do. I'm only there to have fun."
Death quickly slices his machete towards the camera and the video goes to static before the scene ends.
Somewhere in Philadelphia, PA
The scene opens with a shot of Jayson Price sitting at a desk, a piece of paper in front of him and a pen in his hand. In the background we see Creeping Death sharpening his machete.
Jayson Price: "Dear Torture, aka Cryboy McEmo Jr., aka Every Chick That Wrote Terrible Break-up Poetry, aka Gaping Mangina..."
Creeping Death: "We get it, you think he's a chick."
Jayson Price: "Hey, machete or not, nobody interrupts me when I'm on a roll. Now I can't remember the last zinger I had to use, you douche. Blubbering he-bitch? Teary eyed cuntbag? Fuck it, he'll get the point."
Death shakes his head as he goes back to sharpening his machete.
Jayson Price: "The last time I took a moment to sit and write to you, it was just before our teams were set to face off in the Trios Tournament earlier this year. I'm sure you don't remember the letter but I'm sure you remember the match itself. You, teaming with mismatched partners you found last minute, falling to myself and my team. It perfectly mirrors what we're set to do at One. There you stand, about to once again team with Jonny Fly, a man you had to find last minute because you have no friends or anyone willing to even remotely associate with you. The fact that Fly would reduce himself to teaming with you doesn't shock me, the man has been reducing himself for shock value for years to try and keep himself in the spotlight with his 'surprise reappearances'. Hell, I've got $20 that says he hasn't said a word to you since the night he showed up on Slam. One will be the first time you even have a chance to talk with him about the match and he'll blow you off because the only things on his mind will be the reaction of the crowd to his 'aura' and what he'll be doing during his next hiatus from WCF."
Creeping Death: "Rewatching his brother get absolutely brutalized at XIII?"
Jayson Price: "Eh, I've seen better attempted murder."
Death raises his machete and places the tip at Price's throat.
Jayson Price: "I mean, no I haven't. Come on, it was a joke."
Creeping Death "Ha."
Death lowers his machete as Price wipes away a drop of blood.
Jayson Price: "Jesus, I forgot how touchy you get about that shit."
Creeping Death: "Just get back to writing your little letter."
Price starts to say something but shrugs his shoulders and goes back to writing.
Jayson Price: "But what Fly does and doesn't have on his mind isn't what this is all about. No, this is all about you and me Torture. Creeping Death and Jonny Fly, they're along for the ride and they're going to play their parts, but you and I and everyone else know that this is, and always has been, about the two of us. We go back years. Team Of Torture. This Is WAR. The New Man Made Gods. From the time I started in WCF you've somehow always played a part in everything that I've done in this company. And you know what I've come to know about you after all of that time? Just how big of a fucking sad piece of shit you really are. I remember the Torture that I first met back in 2009. Ruthless. Evil. The fucking epitome of what a bad guy in wrestling was supposed to be. And then you've done nothing since that point but show me just how much smoke and mirrors your bad guy act is. The leaving and then returning for those fleeting moments of being in the spotlights again. You always were a glory hog, Torture, but since your first little hiatus from WCF you've only gotten worse. But I could look past all of that, let you just be another sad veteran trying to getting nostalgia pops, if it weren't for the crybaby act. The tears. The 'woe is me'. The 'DON'T YOU DARE FORGET THE WORLD IN WORLD HARDCORE CHAMPION'. Never before had I ever seen a man so fucking rich in what can only be described as period hormones.
Creeping Death: "His pussy was leaking more blood than his mongoloid brother's snot rag could keep up with."
Jayson Price: "Jesus fuck. Maybe I should let you talk more often. To quote Creeping Death, 'his pussy was leaking more blood than his mongoloid brother's snot rag could keep up with.' You were a disgusting mess of a man, as easily offended as a feminist on the rag with twice the amount of tears. So why did I agree to team with you when I was so fucking disgusted by what you had become? For the same reason that Creeping Death decided to work with me: To destroy you. I joined with you at WAR because I once again so an opportunity, only this time it was one to end what I saw as nothing more than an old dog that needed taken out behind the shed. I joined forces with you, preached from the mountaintops about the greatness of The New Man Made Gods, earned your trust and then dropped you face first with a Downfall when I saw the time was right. And I was right about my timing. I dropped you and you did absolutely nothing, just sat and stayed quiet like a good little bitch. But I didn't want that, Torture. I didn't want you to stay quiet and take it, I wanted to see some fucking emotion. I wanted to see you get angry. Deep down, I wanted to see that old, evil side of Torture come out and show some fight so that when I brought you down for good it actually meant something. So when turning on you didn't work, I made it even more personal. I went and I brought your brother into this rivalry when Creeping Death and I paid him a visit. We sat there in his room with him, torturing him to the point that he stopped breathing, only to resuscitate him and then keep torturing him. Oh you should have seen the looks of pain on his face, Torture. I know the video was played for the crowd on Slam but I don't even know if you saw all of it. But let me just paint a picture for you, Torture. He laid there, tears streaming down his face. Blood dripping from tiny little cuts, mixing with those tears and leaving red stains on his cheeks and his pillow. He kept trying to squeeze his eyelids closed but every little cut we made only made them fly open in pain and terror. Oh and those eyes of his. You'd never seen eyes as big as he had when I tied my belt around his throat and strangled him. You would have thought they were about to pop right out of their sockets."
Creeping Death: "If you hadn't stopped when he passed out, they would have."
Jayson Price: "Hey, I already told you I wasn't going in there trying to kill the little retard."
Creeping Death: "And that's the difference between you and I."
Jayson Price: "Well if I remember correctly, you didn't exactly finish him off. And then, when I did help bring him back, for just a fleeting moment I thought that he was finally going to say something. Say anything. But of course he didn't, he was even more broken than before. If you can even believe that's possible. So I brought in the wild card. Let Creeping Death have a little bit of his brand of fun until security finally realized that the screams they heard weren't the usual screams of the insane, but the screams of a man in pain. But believe me, those fleeting moments Death spent with Anthony were more than enough to show our point. By now I'm sure you've had time to sit at Anthony's bedside and share in his tears. Perhaps he's even managed a word to you. I wish I could have had a pair of eyes in the room the first time you walked into his room and saw what we had done to him. To see your reaction. Was it anger? Sadness? Did you shed tears at the sight of your pitiful brother? Did you rush to his side and hold him close or did you drop to your knees and scream my name like Kirk at the end of Wrath Of Khan? I'll tell you, in my dreams, you do both before you put a gun to the side of your head and pull the trigger. You just end it all because you've realized that you've lost."
Creeping Death: "Going out like a bitch suits him."
Jayson Price: "Finally, after a long wait, you finally emerged from your little pity party and decided to finally do something. You come at Creeping Death and I with Jonny Fly at your side. We challenged you to a tag team match at One, and you come at us with Jonny Fly. Mother fucking glory hounds unite, right? Well Torture, the last time you tried to reclaim a bit of your glory against me in a match, it didn't end so well for you. You've got your random partner once again and once again it's going to end with you in heartbreak. Only this time, after I've left you beaten and distraught, Creeping Death is going to be there to put you out of your misery. You are up for the job, aren't you?"
Death stops sharpening machete and holds it up to admire it.
Creeping Death: "Does a heart still pump after you rip it our of a living man's chest?"
Jayson Price: "Oh I like you so much more than Corey Black. If I had broken your arm, you'd have slit my throat and not just kicked me into a coma."
Creeping Death: "That's still on the table if you want."
Jayson Price: "Just save that for Torture and Fly. I don't know what you thought Jonny Fly was going to do for you in this match, but it changes nothing. You could have paid off Bobby Cairo to be your partner. You could have built a time machine, gone back to 2003 and brought back the still relevant Logan to be your partner. It wouldn't have mattered who you dug up or paid off, you were never going to win this match. Fly is nothing more than a seat filler playing the role of 'guy that's going to get beaten down when you inevitably run from the fight'. But whether I have to put you down inside the ring, outside the ring, on the ramp, on the stage or in the parking lot of the hotel you're staying at, I'm putting you the fuck down for good. What happened the last time you and I faced off at One isn't happening again. No, I'm waling out of One as the victor and you're being stretchered to the morgue to be tossed into the incinerator so that you can finally be like your career and go up in flames. Adios, mother fucker. Enjoy the last few hours before the match ends with you listening to the final beats of your heart. Sincerely, Jayson Price. P.S. Tell Anthony I said hello. P.P.S. Let him know I borrowed the watch your father left him in his will. It made for terrible toilet paper and clogged my toilet, so I'll be expecting one of you to pay for the plumbing bill.
Price sets down his bill and looks over to Creeping Death.
Jayson Price: "You know what to do tonight, right?"
Creeping Death: "You seriously asking me that right now?"
Jayson Price: "I just want to know that you're ready."
Creeping Death: "You just do what you need to do. I'm only there to have fun."
Death quickly slices his machete towards the camera and the video goes to static before the scene ends.
