Post by Corey Black on Nov 23, 2006 1:28:02 GMT -5
Our scene opens up to a giant room with stone walls. Hanging on the walls are purple and red cloths, swords, battle axes, all the medieval tapestry. In the corner of the room is a spiral stair case, made totally out of steel bars. Standing in the middle of the large room is a long table. Sitting at the far end is a throne of sorts; a big purple clothed chair with arm rests. Directly behind the chair is a fireplace, burning furiously a blue flame. On the table is a turkey; fully cooked, steam rising from the bird. Near the chair is a silver goblet, a plate, fork, knife, and spoon. Stuffing (dressing, whatever you call it), cranberry sauce, potatoes and gravy, all the Thanksgiving goods. Topped off with candles and a WCF centerpiece.
The scene is remnant of a kings banquet, a feast fit for any monarch. With the room lit by the blue flame in the fireplace, a slight hue of light blue reflects off the walls. Down from the spiral staircase comes Creeping Death, mask on, decked out in black. Black nylon pants, Metallica hoodie, and black sneakers. Pretty much what he always wears. CD makes his way over to the throne chair, and takes a seat. CD looks over the feast before him, and lowers his head.
Creeping Death: In this, the time of thanks, I'd like to make a list of things I am thankful for.
Number one; thank you Nate Nytro and Dake Ken. I don't care what is said, I wanted you guys around because I liked you, and you helped us out morally and on the battlefield. You guys could hardly carry yourselves out there, but it's the thought that counts.
Number two; thank you Logan, because without you and your promos, I'd never be able to get to bed at night.
Number three; thank you Kyle Steel. You've kept yourself under the radar, made the best decisions, and are an all around badass owner.
CD raises his head, and looks into the camera.
Creeping Death: With that out of the way, when I thought about the end of the New Dynasty, not once did I ever believe it would be like this. I saw us peacefully parting ways, still hanging out, just like it was, but not with a formal name. Run down the list of guys we had. Twister and J-X, obviously, meant nothing. I brought them in because I knew they believed in our cause. They just didn't come through for us. I should have known. J-X is the new-age Hellz Angel. Guy is decent, but his work ethic lacks ... a lot. Twister had his heart in it for a few weeks, but then life took over. He realized what was important, and it wasn't wrestling. I commend him for that.
Then we move on to Nate Nytro, and Dake Ken. Nate, while he was in it from the beginning, I admit, pulled the weight of a fly. I love the guy to death, behind Torture, he was my next brother. He just doesn't have it in him anymore. While Dake Ken still has it in him, he's never around to prove it. They both still believe in the cause. No more bullshit ends to matches, no more owners running things, just wrestling, emotion, talent and passion ... maybe they should have taken the New Dynasty's morals to heart?
Speaking of heart, to say my heart isn't are red, and I'm not as strong as I once was ... I don't even know. While Torture was fighting off Chino of all people, I was spearheading my own pay per view, taking the Hardcore and Television Titles to heights not seen since, well, Torture himself, only to get screwed out of both? Who else has ANYONE seen go from hardly showing up one year, and the next, dominate the federation like I have. Torture, you've been champ for what seems like ever, but you've always had the New Dynasty to back you up. We were behind you one hundred percent, whatever you did. I realize that I also had the support in my endeavors, but not as much or the quality you had. To do what you did to us, mindlessly 'trim the fat' as you referred to everyone else, is not only turning your back on Nate and Dake, but turning your back on a friendship that you yourself have mentioned time and time again that you KNOW was genuine. I trust Nate and Dake, I trusted you, and I trusted Rick Mad. In this business, in WCF, that sums up my entire career of friendship. People here don't like me. People here don't like you. That, Torture, is where we bonded. Pulling the shit we pulled to the boys in the back that literally wanted to rip our heads off, and sure tried on numerous times. The pizza place, the drives, everything. No matter what you think, you turned your back on that.
CD stands quickly, goes behind the throne chair like he was ducking a clothesline to a go behind, and literally launches it onto the table, sending food flying everywhere. CD has flipped his lid. Throwing plates against the wall. Plate after plate, crashing into the stone wall and shattering. Food falling from said plates, littering the floor. Finally CD catches himself before he throws a pumpkin pie. He is breathing heavily. CD takes a moment, and calms down.
Creeping Death: I'm as Creeping Death as ever, thanks to you. Dying is not an option, only an inevitability. The day I stop being Creeping Death is the day I stop breathing, and my being ceases. I sometimes, though, believe you've been dead for the past few months. The shit coming from your mouth amazes me. I haven't had your back? What the fuck? Since when is coming out with you, every night when we had a tag match? Not ONCE did I leave your hanging. And like I said, every single time, I out shined you. WCF knows it. The world knows it. Hell, even Death (DDT) knows it. Congratulations on being a moron on that front, as well. Like I've never been a Tag Team Champion? Try AT LEAST four times with Rick Mad. All over the US, all over the world.
Why was I the one being pinned in tag matches, Torture? Circumstance, more or less. Seemed to me, you were afraid of retiring, so you'd make me carry the load of the match. I'd prove time and time again I was the better man, but in the end, I was always the one to be staring at the lights. Where were you to break up the pins? Flat on your back too? Oh, yeah, alright. That's totally fine, though. I'd forget about it and move on. You, however, would shrug it off like it really was my fault. Didn't once did you apologize, or say anything really. You went on about your precious World Title. A World Title, I might add, that has been around my waist twice. 'oh but you lost it twice and you suck!' Yeah, well, even YOU know the reasons being those losses, and it sure as fuck wasn't because I suck.
Creeping Death picks up the turkey, hoists it over his head, and almost powerbombs it down onto the ground. The thought of dropping a big elbow on the turkey probably crossed his mind, but he doesn't do it. Instead, CD turns the table over, totally destroying what was left of the meal, which was not much anyways. The room is trashed. Food on the floor, walls, and plates broken all over.
Creeping Death: We fucking get it, you're the creator, a WREEESTLING ... God and the like. No reason to channel J-X and repeat Friday Night commentary more than twice, bud. Being a WREEESTLING ... God must not be a hard job. The other guy that mentioned he's such a thing basically sucked. A big hoss that got big because Big Nose McGee didn't wanna work Tuesdays. I heard that somewhere. A year ago last June, I think.
It's been a while for the TLC. Last one was the beginning of this WCF run. In years past, every other week, I'd break out Damien and crush some skulls. I need to get back to my roots. Back to when I was one of the most feared guys around. Back to when the name 'Creeping Death' was heard, it fucking mattered. At twenty two, I am a shell of who I once was. This entire ordeal made me realize I only need two people in this company, in this life, and in this world.
Jodia walks into the room, holding a mirror. She stands in front of CD, and holds the mirror next to her, reflecting CD in it.
Creeping Death: And finally, number four; thank you Torture. Not only did you awaken my former self, but I'd also probably have to defeat Chino for that World Title at Revenge, and that would be way ... way less fun.
With that, Jodia lays the mirror on the floor and hugs CD, trying to further calm him down. The scene fades out.
The scene is remnant of a kings banquet, a feast fit for any monarch. With the room lit by the blue flame in the fireplace, a slight hue of light blue reflects off the walls. Down from the spiral staircase comes Creeping Death, mask on, decked out in black. Black nylon pants, Metallica hoodie, and black sneakers. Pretty much what he always wears. CD makes his way over to the throne chair, and takes a seat. CD looks over the feast before him, and lowers his head.
Creeping Death: In this, the time of thanks, I'd like to make a list of things I am thankful for.
Number one; thank you Nate Nytro and Dake Ken. I don't care what is said, I wanted you guys around because I liked you, and you helped us out morally and on the battlefield. You guys could hardly carry yourselves out there, but it's the thought that counts.
Number two; thank you Logan, because without you and your promos, I'd never be able to get to bed at night.
Number three; thank you Kyle Steel. You've kept yourself under the radar, made the best decisions, and are an all around badass owner.
CD raises his head, and looks into the camera.
Creeping Death: With that out of the way, when I thought about the end of the New Dynasty, not once did I ever believe it would be like this. I saw us peacefully parting ways, still hanging out, just like it was, but not with a formal name. Run down the list of guys we had. Twister and J-X, obviously, meant nothing. I brought them in because I knew they believed in our cause. They just didn't come through for us. I should have known. J-X is the new-age Hellz Angel. Guy is decent, but his work ethic lacks ... a lot. Twister had his heart in it for a few weeks, but then life took over. He realized what was important, and it wasn't wrestling. I commend him for that.
Then we move on to Nate Nytro, and Dake Ken. Nate, while he was in it from the beginning, I admit, pulled the weight of a fly. I love the guy to death, behind Torture, he was my next brother. He just doesn't have it in him anymore. While Dake Ken still has it in him, he's never around to prove it. They both still believe in the cause. No more bullshit ends to matches, no more owners running things, just wrestling, emotion, talent and passion ... maybe they should have taken the New Dynasty's morals to heart?
Speaking of heart, to say my heart isn't are red, and I'm not as strong as I once was ... I don't even know. While Torture was fighting off Chino of all people, I was spearheading my own pay per view, taking the Hardcore and Television Titles to heights not seen since, well, Torture himself, only to get screwed out of both? Who else has ANYONE seen go from hardly showing up one year, and the next, dominate the federation like I have. Torture, you've been champ for what seems like ever, but you've always had the New Dynasty to back you up. We were behind you one hundred percent, whatever you did. I realize that I also had the support in my endeavors, but not as much or the quality you had. To do what you did to us, mindlessly 'trim the fat' as you referred to everyone else, is not only turning your back on Nate and Dake, but turning your back on a friendship that you yourself have mentioned time and time again that you KNOW was genuine. I trust Nate and Dake, I trusted you, and I trusted Rick Mad. In this business, in WCF, that sums up my entire career of friendship. People here don't like me. People here don't like you. That, Torture, is where we bonded. Pulling the shit we pulled to the boys in the back that literally wanted to rip our heads off, and sure tried on numerous times. The pizza place, the drives, everything. No matter what you think, you turned your back on that.
CD stands quickly, goes behind the throne chair like he was ducking a clothesline to a go behind, and literally launches it onto the table, sending food flying everywhere. CD has flipped his lid. Throwing plates against the wall. Plate after plate, crashing into the stone wall and shattering. Food falling from said plates, littering the floor. Finally CD catches himself before he throws a pumpkin pie. He is breathing heavily. CD takes a moment, and calms down.
Creeping Death: I'm as Creeping Death as ever, thanks to you. Dying is not an option, only an inevitability. The day I stop being Creeping Death is the day I stop breathing, and my being ceases. I sometimes, though, believe you've been dead for the past few months. The shit coming from your mouth amazes me. I haven't had your back? What the fuck? Since when is coming out with you, every night when we had a tag match? Not ONCE did I leave your hanging. And like I said, every single time, I out shined you. WCF knows it. The world knows it. Hell, even Death (DDT) knows it. Congratulations on being a moron on that front, as well. Like I've never been a Tag Team Champion? Try AT LEAST four times with Rick Mad. All over the US, all over the world.
Why was I the one being pinned in tag matches, Torture? Circumstance, more or less. Seemed to me, you were afraid of retiring, so you'd make me carry the load of the match. I'd prove time and time again I was the better man, but in the end, I was always the one to be staring at the lights. Where were you to break up the pins? Flat on your back too? Oh, yeah, alright. That's totally fine, though. I'd forget about it and move on. You, however, would shrug it off like it really was my fault. Didn't once did you apologize, or say anything really. You went on about your precious World Title. A World Title, I might add, that has been around my waist twice. 'oh but you lost it twice and you suck!' Yeah, well, even YOU know the reasons being those losses, and it sure as fuck wasn't because I suck.
Creeping Death picks up the turkey, hoists it over his head, and almost powerbombs it down onto the ground. The thought of dropping a big elbow on the turkey probably crossed his mind, but he doesn't do it. Instead, CD turns the table over, totally destroying what was left of the meal, which was not much anyways. The room is trashed. Food on the floor, walls, and plates broken all over.
Creeping Death: We fucking get it, you're the creator, a WREEESTLING ... God and the like. No reason to channel J-X and repeat Friday Night commentary more than twice, bud. Being a WREEESTLING ... God must not be a hard job. The other guy that mentioned he's such a thing basically sucked. A big hoss that got big because Big Nose McGee didn't wanna work Tuesdays. I heard that somewhere. A year ago last June, I think.
It's been a while for the TLC. Last one was the beginning of this WCF run. In years past, every other week, I'd break out Damien and crush some skulls. I need to get back to my roots. Back to when I was one of the most feared guys around. Back to when the name 'Creeping Death' was heard, it fucking mattered. At twenty two, I am a shell of who I once was. This entire ordeal made me realize I only need two people in this company, in this life, and in this world.
Jodia walks into the room, holding a mirror. She stands in front of CD, and holds the mirror next to her, reflecting CD in it.
Creeping Death: And finally, number four; thank you Torture. Not only did you awaken my former self, but I'd also probably have to defeat Chino for that World Title at Revenge, and that would be way ... way less fun.
With that, Jodia lays the mirror on the floor and hugs CD, trying to further calm him down. The scene fades out.
