Post by Torture on Feb 19, 2009 3:51:32 GMT -5
- It's a wonderful, colorful world. Any color you can imagine, and it's in this scene. It's downtown Chicago on a bright, sunny day. Just after lunch hour rush, as most of the traffic has died down, we take a glance at is what now the former home of Senator Obama, who is now President. The home base of Chris Avery, and the second home of Torture.
- The panning of the city reminds you of some Spike Lee shot. Run down buildings, sky scrapers, beat up cars, and tons of trees. Now we zoom fast from the air. Closing in on a particular person. It's Torture. From top to bottom, Torture doesn't fuck around when it comes to dress up. He knows how to get down. With his straight gray suit, and shiny white tie down to his pure black loafers. Torture fixes his tie, and begins. Looking straight into the camera.
Torture: It's amazing what's going to happen on Sunday. Really think about it. Two completely different worlds will collide, and finally, we'll see the real winner. My world. Take a look. The cars. The mansions. And, I'm not even a rapper. I don't go around wanting to spend money on things. Or wasting cold hard cash on things. I don't reach into my pockets and throw money out and make it rain. I'm not that kind of guy. I am, however, wealthy. The wealth around me comes in all different kinds of shapes and colors, Black. Notice the sun? the friends? The world I live in is much different from yours, and in all reality, you like it that way. I can dig that. But it's not the right way. It's not the REAL way.
You see, Black. Your world is very.. well.. black. It's too dark. You tend to keep things to yourself. You look for any way out using weapons, and sadistic ways of beating your opponent. Sure, the fans like it, but it doesn't last. You know deep down, Black, that you're not a better person than me. You're not cooler than me, you're not a better fighter than me, and we both know... You're not a better wrestler than me. Like I said, two very different worlds, and on Sunday, they collide.
- The Tort pulls up his right sleeve. He checks his watch and then quickly pulls his sleeve back down.
Torture: I'm going to be really honest with you, Black. We had a connection. Hell, at one time, I guess you can say we were friends. I'll even go further than that, and say at one point time, I looked at you as someone more than a friend. But, I never trusted you. You probably trusted me, and I'm okay with that, but that's where we differ. You see, when we were wrestling as a team, we both had the same goal. To defeat whoever was standing in front of us. It just so happened, that the guys who were challenging us, were our common enemies. You see, we had common interests, but our worlds are very different, and you should have known that.
I've done it twice. You know, turning on you and all. I've done it twice. Once, you should have seen it coming, we really had nothing else to do, and I was done with you. I couldn't be seen with you anymore. The second time.. it kind of broke my heart. It really hurt my feelings. You see, I assembled the greatest wrestling alliance in the universe called The Dynasty. The whole time, I was the leader. Not you. Me. I am a natural born leader. You know this, I know this. Problem was, is that YOU actually thought you were a real Dynasty wrestler. It broke my heart putting a chair the back of your skull, and then delivering a Torture's Device. It really did. It didn't hurt my feelings that I had to do that, oh hell no, it hurt my feelings because you actually thought you were a Dynasty player. Pitiful, I know.
Being in the Dynasty is a way of life. It's a winning attitude, and Black, you don't have it. You're not a winner. You, like in life, are here to fail. You are supposed to get so close, yet, not make the finish line. While I am raised to lead, and influence an entire company of hard working Wrestlers, and young talent, you are here to fail. You suck the life out of everything you touch. It's not your fault, it's just the luck of the draw. Black, it's not a coincidence that I'm the World Champion, and you are not. That's how the world works. I live in my world. Reality. You live in your world, dark, sadistic, and fictional. It's just a gimmick.
- One and Only pulls out his cell phone and checks it. He closes the flip phone and slides it back into his pants' pocket. He reaches into the left side of his coat, and from the inside he pulls out a pair of sunglasses. He opens them up, and slides them over his eyes.
Torture: Gimmick, man. That's all you are. You fly around the ring, you grab weapons and throw them at your opponents, then you book your own matches. You're one step away from over the hill. I'm going to fix that on Sunday when I defeat you. You see, I realized the one thing that's holding you on to the very top of this company. I noticed why, though I'm the World Champion, you're still ranked higher than me.
It's because I've never beaten you. Quite hilarious actually. Listen for a second. I'm walking around demanding I be in the Hall of Fame. I'm complaining that no one talks about Torture when they bring up instant classics, or 'greatest wrestlers'. I realized why. It's because of you. Just like you are, the entire company is hanging on by a thread. That thread connects to the one last string that holds you and this entire company together. I have to defeat you, to break that link. I've defeated them all, Corey. I really have. And after I did so, people looked at me different, but as long as they can hold on to that one statement, that ONE god damn link, I will continue to be overlooked. You have never beaten me, and I have never beaten you. You're the only legend, the only icon, the only professional wrestler ranked higher than me that I've never beaten.
Haha.
- The small laughter stops. He wipes his brow and finishes.
Torture: It's all going to change on Sunday. Your dark, gimmick world will be turned upside down. It will be shaken to it's empty, lifeless core. You will be defeated on Sunday, in the way of the real world working it's natural fate. Losers lose, Black, and winners win. Mr. Cool is back Black, and that's a fact. The Icon Killer will return with it's rightful vengeance. The metaphorical mask I've been wearing is now being taken off, and I'm returning to my roots. I don't need bells to toll, or graveyards to spook, or old dungeons, or caves, or wells, or any of that shit to defeat you.
Corey Black, on Sunday, we'll meet for a match for the ages. It's too bad, no one will remember the loser. Just the winner. Finally, at Death Do Us Part, Torture will have conquered the mountain they call Wrestling Championship Federation. That my friend, is the REAL.
- Torture fixes his sun glasses, his tie, and then slides his hands back into his pockets. His cocky smile, an ego demeanor vibe through the fade out.
- The panning of the city reminds you of some Spike Lee shot. Run down buildings, sky scrapers, beat up cars, and tons of trees. Now we zoom fast from the air. Closing in on a particular person. It's Torture. From top to bottom, Torture doesn't fuck around when it comes to dress up. He knows how to get down. With his straight gray suit, and shiny white tie down to his pure black loafers. Torture fixes his tie, and begins. Looking straight into the camera.
Torture: It's amazing what's going to happen on Sunday. Really think about it. Two completely different worlds will collide, and finally, we'll see the real winner. My world. Take a look. The cars. The mansions. And, I'm not even a rapper. I don't go around wanting to spend money on things. Or wasting cold hard cash on things. I don't reach into my pockets and throw money out and make it rain. I'm not that kind of guy. I am, however, wealthy. The wealth around me comes in all different kinds of shapes and colors, Black. Notice the sun? the friends? The world I live in is much different from yours, and in all reality, you like it that way. I can dig that. But it's not the right way. It's not the REAL way.
You see, Black. Your world is very.. well.. black. It's too dark. You tend to keep things to yourself. You look for any way out using weapons, and sadistic ways of beating your opponent. Sure, the fans like it, but it doesn't last. You know deep down, Black, that you're not a better person than me. You're not cooler than me, you're not a better fighter than me, and we both know... You're not a better wrestler than me. Like I said, two very different worlds, and on Sunday, they collide.
- The Tort pulls up his right sleeve. He checks his watch and then quickly pulls his sleeve back down.
Torture: I'm going to be really honest with you, Black. We had a connection. Hell, at one time, I guess you can say we were friends. I'll even go further than that, and say at one point time, I looked at you as someone more than a friend. But, I never trusted you. You probably trusted me, and I'm okay with that, but that's where we differ. You see, when we were wrestling as a team, we both had the same goal. To defeat whoever was standing in front of us. It just so happened, that the guys who were challenging us, were our common enemies. You see, we had common interests, but our worlds are very different, and you should have known that.
I've done it twice. You know, turning on you and all. I've done it twice. Once, you should have seen it coming, we really had nothing else to do, and I was done with you. I couldn't be seen with you anymore. The second time.. it kind of broke my heart. It really hurt my feelings. You see, I assembled the greatest wrestling alliance in the universe called The Dynasty. The whole time, I was the leader. Not you. Me. I am a natural born leader. You know this, I know this. Problem was, is that YOU actually thought you were a real Dynasty wrestler. It broke my heart putting a chair the back of your skull, and then delivering a Torture's Device. It really did. It didn't hurt my feelings that I had to do that, oh hell no, it hurt my feelings because you actually thought you were a Dynasty player. Pitiful, I know.
Being in the Dynasty is a way of life. It's a winning attitude, and Black, you don't have it. You're not a winner. You, like in life, are here to fail. You are supposed to get so close, yet, not make the finish line. While I am raised to lead, and influence an entire company of hard working Wrestlers, and young talent, you are here to fail. You suck the life out of everything you touch. It's not your fault, it's just the luck of the draw. Black, it's not a coincidence that I'm the World Champion, and you are not. That's how the world works. I live in my world. Reality. You live in your world, dark, sadistic, and fictional. It's just a gimmick.
- One and Only pulls out his cell phone and checks it. He closes the flip phone and slides it back into his pants' pocket. He reaches into the left side of his coat, and from the inside he pulls out a pair of sunglasses. He opens them up, and slides them over his eyes.
Torture: Gimmick, man. That's all you are. You fly around the ring, you grab weapons and throw them at your opponents, then you book your own matches. You're one step away from over the hill. I'm going to fix that on Sunday when I defeat you. You see, I realized the one thing that's holding you on to the very top of this company. I noticed why, though I'm the World Champion, you're still ranked higher than me.
It's because I've never beaten you. Quite hilarious actually. Listen for a second. I'm walking around demanding I be in the Hall of Fame. I'm complaining that no one talks about Torture when they bring up instant classics, or 'greatest wrestlers'. I realized why. It's because of you. Just like you are, the entire company is hanging on by a thread. That thread connects to the one last string that holds you and this entire company together. I have to defeat you, to break that link. I've defeated them all, Corey. I really have. And after I did so, people looked at me different, but as long as they can hold on to that one statement, that ONE god damn link, I will continue to be overlooked. You have never beaten me, and I have never beaten you. You're the only legend, the only icon, the only professional wrestler ranked higher than me that I've never beaten.
Haha.
- The small laughter stops. He wipes his brow and finishes.
Torture: It's all going to change on Sunday. Your dark, gimmick world will be turned upside down. It will be shaken to it's empty, lifeless core. You will be defeated on Sunday, in the way of the real world working it's natural fate. Losers lose, Black, and winners win. Mr. Cool is back Black, and that's a fact. The Icon Killer will return with it's rightful vengeance. The metaphorical mask I've been wearing is now being taken off, and I'm returning to my roots. I don't need bells to toll, or graveyards to spook, or old dungeons, or caves, or wells, or any of that shit to defeat you.
Corey Black, on Sunday, we'll meet for a match for the ages. It's too bad, no one will remember the loser. Just the winner. Finally, at Death Do Us Part, Torture will have conquered the mountain they call Wrestling Championship Federation. That my friend, is the REAL.
- Torture fixes his sun glasses, his tie, and then slides his hands back into his pockets. His cocky smile, an ego demeanor vibe through the fade out.
