Post by Corey Black on Jan 5, 2008 3:00:13 GMT -5
The scene opens up to a shot of Creeping Death, bent over a sink and looking into a mirror. CD's face is painted white, but that's it. His hair cannot be seen, as it's up and under a knit hat. He's shirtless, and for some reason, breathing heavily.
Creeping Death: So Logan and Seth can just take the WCF World Title away, just like that? Just because a tournament is happening, and I won the title on my own show ... fair and square?
Those were the rules of my wish, Seth. EVERY. SINGLE. Friday the 13th, I get to hold Thirteen.
Do you not remember the match from the WCF Championship Series? The one where I didn't get pinned nor tap out? That match was the best thing WCF had seen in the final incarnation. A rematch was inevitable. I just took it when I wanted it.
CD looks down to the sink, where his face paint is resting on the lip.
Creeping Death: Not only that, but after defeating my friend in JJ Biggs, I'm attacked from behind with a chair by Logan himself. WCF's biggest star, attacking me from behind with a chair. A steel one. Congratulations, Logan, you're a complete fool. A lucky fool, at that, because I won't have any time to properly whip your ass in the ring. You see, WCF is only open long enough for the Classic to finish. Round one is done. Round two is next week. Round three is the week after, and then the finals. Everyone knows damn well that I'm going to win this tournament, and be damned if I'll lose. I'm fighting for what is rightfully mine, and losing is not an option.
CD grabs the black face paint applier, and begins drawing the circles around his eyes. But he draws them a little different. A bit more sinister.
Creeping Death: JJ Biggs down, Bobby Cairo up. An early favorite, he defeated Skyler Striker to advance to the second round. Two problems. He thinks he understands me, and he's not fighting for anything.
The thing about me is, I don't even know what I'm thinking ninety percent of the time. Sucks for you. I can honestly sit here and tell you that you are very ... VERY mistaken.
CD finishes the black circles around his eyes and puts the paint down, not drawing on the black lines. Instead, he picks up red, and starts at his left cheek, goes over his mouth, and to his right cheek. CD fixes it up a bit and it is clear. CD drew a Joker-like smile on his face.
Creeping Death: It's been a while since I've felt this way. I have a feeling of pure destruction building up inside me, and it's scary. I want to hurt people again. I'm going to hurt people again.
CD looks down and pulls his hat off, revealing dull dark green hair. The camera pulls back as CD begins laughing sinisterly while looking into the mirror. Creeping Death is wearing the same style cargo pants he usually wears, but now they are dark purple with green trim of the pockets and green stitching. CD stops and quickly turns back to the camera.
Creeping Death: Why so serious, Logan?! HA HA HA HA HA!
CD continues to laugh into the camera as the scene fades out.
Creeping Death: So Logan and Seth can just take the WCF World Title away, just like that? Just because a tournament is happening, and I won the title on my own show ... fair and square?
Those were the rules of my wish, Seth. EVERY. SINGLE. Friday the 13th, I get to hold Thirteen.
Do you not remember the match from the WCF Championship Series? The one where I didn't get pinned nor tap out? That match was the best thing WCF had seen in the final incarnation. A rematch was inevitable. I just took it when I wanted it.
CD looks down to the sink, where his face paint is resting on the lip.
Creeping Death: Not only that, but after defeating my friend in JJ Biggs, I'm attacked from behind with a chair by Logan himself. WCF's biggest star, attacking me from behind with a chair. A steel one. Congratulations, Logan, you're a complete fool. A lucky fool, at that, because I won't have any time to properly whip your ass in the ring. You see, WCF is only open long enough for the Classic to finish. Round one is done. Round two is next week. Round three is the week after, and then the finals. Everyone knows damn well that I'm going to win this tournament, and be damned if I'll lose. I'm fighting for what is rightfully mine, and losing is not an option.
CD grabs the black face paint applier, and begins drawing the circles around his eyes. But he draws them a little different. A bit more sinister.
Creeping Death: JJ Biggs down, Bobby Cairo up. An early favorite, he defeated Skyler Striker to advance to the second round. Two problems. He thinks he understands me, and he's not fighting for anything.
The thing about me is, I don't even know what I'm thinking ninety percent of the time. Sucks for you. I can honestly sit here and tell you that you are very ... VERY mistaken.
CD finishes the black circles around his eyes and puts the paint down, not drawing on the black lines. Instead, he picks up red, and starts at his left cheek, goes over his mouth, and to his right cheek. CD fixes it up a bit and it is clear. CD drew a Joker-like smile on his face.
Creeping Death: It's been a while since I've felt this way. I have a feeling of pure destruction building up inside me, and it's scary. I want to hurt people again. I'm going to hurt people again.
CD looks down and pulls his hat off, revealing dull dark green hair. The camera pulls back as CD begins laughing sinisterly while looking into the mirror. Creeping Death is wearing the same style cargo pants he usually wears, but now they are dark purple with green trim of the pockets and green stitching. CD stops and quickly turns back to the camera.
Creeping Death: Why so serious, Logan?! HA HA HA HA HA!
CD continues to laugh into the camera as the scene fades out.
