Post by Noble Savage on Jan 27, 2019 23:35:29 GMT -5
Noble Savage Roleplay
SLAM 1/28/19
Noble Savage vs. Samuel McPherson
"No Vaseline"
Word Count: 5,000
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Darkness has fallen upon the eerie night skies of Columbus, Georgia. The silence is prevalent through the lonely streets where even the winds no longer dare roam.
Before we can fully take in the scenery, the tape is stopped abruptly. We now see Noble Savage sitting on a back-turned chair in the middle of an empty wrestling ring with the WCF Championship draped over her shoulder. It is completely dark out side of the spot light that shines over her and the ring.
SAVAGE:
"Cut through the nonsense. Let's talk about the worm caught in the mud under my heel for a second here."
Noble Savage offers a sideway smirk before blowing a bubble of gum and letting it pop. The camera draws in closer as she lightly chews the gum before talking with faint smile.
SAVAGE:
"Samuel, listen up. I am hoping your hearing is better than your writing, because looking over your blogs , you have second grade grammar skills. But I've heard people say, that when you lose a sense, all other senses become heightened, so I assume your hearing is extraordinary, since you have no other damn sense in the first place. Now listen up! Because being so hurt and bitter about my Pre-War video package being long and boring, then you better take ALL the meds before this."
Noble Savage snaps her fingers and points at her self.
SAVAGE:
"HEY! Focus, Sammy! I know with your autism comes accompanied a heavy case of A.D.D. but I am going to need you to pay attention, little big boy. In your life, you have never ever done anything worth my time and I'm sure you know it. You stepped into the ring thinking you were all tough because you've defeated people that were on your level. Okay, bravo, you've defeated other morons. Good for you. But you are just now about to begin the next step in your career and you're finally going to fight in the big leagues. I've taken it very easy on you the last couple times your undeserving hide has stepped in the same ring as me. I've shown you a great deal of mercy because, number one, I know you're not worth my energy, and secondly, I feel extremely bad for you so for me to even give you a second of my attention would have a detrimental effect on your baseless confidence. But in spite of me allowing you to exist by ignoring your existence, you still managed to lose. You and I have stepped in the same ring twice. The outcome both times has been that I end up pinning and winning, and you end up getting discarded like the disposable Dixie cup that you are. So, you get mad and blog about the loss, then your cheating husband gets mad and cuts promos focused on people he's not even facing, then Henry Losak gets involved and nobody understands what he says because he talks like he's reading from a script that your mentally disabled bastard child wrote, and... Well... Then everyone and their mother laughs at you. It's a vicious cycle that will continue to repeat until you learn your place, Sammy boy."
Noble Savage takes a deep breath and flicks a strand of hair away from her forehead. She looks at the faceplate of her WCF World Championship Belt and scoffs with a light chuckle.
SAVAGE:
"And to think your unfaithful husband Lil Raab claimed to be tag team Champions with you when neither of you ever pinned anyone for those belts. In a way I'm glad Eccentrix left, because that made it easier for another team to take those belts off you. But you tried to make it seem like you're the one who won the belts, when in all actuality it was Eccentrix who pinned Teo Del Sol, not you. You were riding his coat tails, but then your jealous infidel of a husband went and intervened. He convinced the one true tag title holder at the time, that it was a good idea to quit. The truth of the matter is that the very day Eccentrix left the company, the Tag titles disappeared into obscure insignificance."
Noble Savage shakes her head, look of amusement takes over her face as if she seems to be reminded of a joke or something.
SAVAGE:
“Okay, Samuel, look. I don’t blame you for being a man of a few words, seeing as you most likely don’t even know how to pronounce enough words to string a sentence together. I have already shut more mouths than anyone else in WCF history, and I will continue to do so, but you’ve obviously been taught the hard way that even though, talk may be cheap, silence is also free. So, wise on you that your mouth can’t sign checks that your hide can’t cash. So, when your verbal skills finally reach the height of your writing skills, you just might be nearly ready for kindergarten. And I really thought it was just you with the speech impediments, but it isn’t. So that must be something contagious going on in your group home. Little Raab and Hank are both known for dragging sentences out for no apparent reason whatsoever.”
Noble Savage clears her throat a little and blurts out her next words with an eerily similar voice to Callum Raab’s, but exaggerating the lethargic and nasal impediments of his speech patterns.
SAVAGE:
“Oh, I’m Callum, but and also I’m dim-witted as well along with being as slow as my adoptive parents.”
Noble Savage laughs a little bit, then says her next words in a mocking version of Henry Losak’s voice.
SAVAGE:
“This is Henry Losak, but and also I can’t talk either as well and but aslo along with repeating myself but and also along with as well.”
Noble Savage and shakes her head while giggling.
SAVAGE:
“I swear, it is so obvious that you are all reading from the same chicken scratch scripts, that it is difficult to even take any of you seriously. Especially you, Sammy. How can anyone be afraid of a Sad Mule who refuses to remove his horse feeder from his face long enough to breathe fresh air?”
Suddenly, a meme honks on to the screen with the sound of a screaming mule accompanying it. It disappears after about a second.
SAVAGE:
“Sorry about that, Sam. I just felt I needed to keep your attention with funny pictures, seeing as your A.D.D. is evolving. By now it must be A.D.H.D DVD/RW and maybe even Blu-Ray. So, picture this, watch the birdie… That horsefeeder you wear around your snout, being cracked into three pieces, courtesy of a tomb seeker from yours truly. It’s not a very pleasant thought, is it? Picture yourself trying to explain to Callum why it is that his bottom dad has a caved in philtrum and a jaw that can not be held shut without the help of that Mule Bag. See, I’m trying to help you think, Samuel. As difficult as the concept of thought may be to someone like you, I refuse to give up on you the same way your orphanage did, and I will make sure that you at least process ONE full thought before our match on Monday. Use your head. Now that you have adopted a child from the same orphanage that didn’t want you, why don’t you just give up on wrestling? Why don’t you quit before someone like me comes along and cripples you beyond recognition? I mean, I suppose that adopting a special needs kid must be tough, especially when you’re a special needs couple yourselves. Don’t think the WCF isn’t aware of your SSI checks. That’s why you and your husband are able to afford a living without a WCF paycheck, because you’re both social security recipients and that’s all you need to get by. But why make poor little Callum follow your freeloading foot steps? Why not allow him to actually become the man that you and Little Raab can never even combine to be? Quit while you can, so that you might have enough energy and life left in you to actually enjoy the experience of raising a child.”
Noble Savage looks around her and glances back at the camera. She lets out a sigh of pity and rolls her yes before continuing to speak.
SAVAGE:
“All I can remember about you from the night of the War pay per view, is you coming down that ramp as if you thought you were hot stuff… Only to later be eliminated by… Kennedy Matthews? Are you serious, Samuel? That explains why you were so mad that monday night after War… Because you were swearing up and down saying you were going to win War, but you ended up getting eliminated by a a girl. That should show you just how far above you I am. Not just because of this shiny thing, no. I’ve been above you since before even winning this. You were eliminated by the girl who was eliminated by the guy who was eliminated by the man who was eliminated by the man, who was eliminated by me… That’s four layers of rank that you will need to climb if you ever hope to even stand a chance of survival against me. That’s why in the WCF many see me as a lunatic, because I am able to systematically defeat opponents in such a chain reaction of events that even their futur opponents will suffer. Others regard me as their lord and savior, but I prefer not to be leveled down to the rank of Lord. My title is WCF Champion, but rank is not just the mountain top, I am the mountain! Life is like that, Samuel, illiterate little etceteras like you are destined to live under the grime of my boot and then you die.”
Noble Savage now lets the WCF Championship Belt lie in front of her, just at the feet of the chair. She smiles down at the belt while letting her chin and cheak gently rest on the backrest of the chair.
SAVAGE:
“But Samuel, you have never won any gold. Sure you were tag team champion, but as I already mentioned before, you didn’t win that. You just bullied the partner you had into giving it to you. You don’t know what it’s like to have something in your hands that you actually earned yourself. Just like that special ed student that you adopted because he reminds you of yourself, the belt you once held was not yours. It was someone else’s and you were holding it for a while. That’s why everyone in the WCF even forgot the tag title existed when eccentrix left. That’s why you later lost those tag titles to little sweet Estrella Luiz. Because your hands are made of human feces and anything you hold in them will either start to stink, or simply fall from your weak grip. So, on Monday, it isn’t about the WCF Championship becaue you haven’t earned that shot. But it is you against me, which means it is about the WCF Champion dancing an old ballad with you that ends in the most tragic way. Your destiny is the one that you chose, and you chose wrong. It will be a sad tune that will be played when the WCF Paramedics don’t know whether to call an ambulance or an undertaker to come measure you. That’s when you’ll find yourself in a predicament that you cannot get yourself out of… You will be left with just two choices, hold on to dear life and retire from wrestling so that you can provide a decent life to your special needs kid… Or let go completely and head towards the light, saying goodbye forever… That is a perspective you will have to reflect on… To reflect on your own life less badly, and… LOOK! Wake up, drool cup! Look at the end, do you see it? The end is the same for everyone, and this is the cycle of man, and the ultimate goal of life is to Die… To reach that finish line as late as possible, but to reach it nontheless. Death is the summit if you don’t submit, Sammy. If you don’t call your God once I have you in my grip, there are no miracles, it is simply... lights out.”
Noble Savage snaps her finger with that last word, and the spot light that is shining on her shuts off, leaving us to stare at darkness. We still hear Noble Savage’s voice even if we cannot see her.
SAVAGE:
“The road is long, Samuel. You haven’t even begun the trail, and you sure as hell won’t make it to where I am any time soon. You might have what it takes to defeat a superstar of your peers, but when it comes to Noble Savage, you are in way over your head, little boy. I don’t think you quite understand the mentality that it takes to be who I am. I go out there with a heart of stone. Unlike you, I get dressed, I lace up my boots, and I and go out there ready to take my career to the next level! What is it you go out there for? To have fun? To hurt someone and convince yourself that’s worth your while? Where is the compensation in that? I, too enjoy dishing out excruciating pain, but that leaves little to be desired if it doesn’t advance my personal growth. Everything I do, I do for the greater good, and you’re just a small fry trying to focus on whether or not the referee counted fast enough. Complaining about the outcome of the matches you’ve thrown. Meanwhile, I’m over here taking names, riding out there every day between cheetahs and weasels, and although Lady Abernathy tells me that there no luxury in blood, truth is, I do want a moral construct to fill my pride, made exclusively out of the blood, sweat, tears, and bones of my victi-- I mean, opponents. I used to be like you when I first started. Hell, Noble herself wanted me BEATEN out of her but I thrived on that and that is why we became the best of friends. Now, instead of hitch hiking and taking public transportation from show to show, I get car service, and private jets, which of course this Championship Belt brings the perks of it, but you would never know that, Sammy. Because you will never be on my level.”
The lights come back on and Noble Savage is sitting in the same position she was before they went out. With her hands now extended out, Noble Savage speaks while pretending to balance her next points on each palm.
SAVAGE:
“To you, sensibilities seem to be weaknesses, which is why you lost your common and forgot your sense. Now the only sense you have left is your sense of self-importance, which only exists within the dusty confines of your empty mind. But to me, sensibilities are strength. They keep me grounded and remind me that I really should feel sorry for those who have been damned with the curse of having to face me one on one. Unlike you, Sammy, I am faithful to my motto; The seeds of the future lie buried in the past. And that's the balance that moves earth. Without any added enhancements or disabilities, I've managed to shut up all the naysayers. The same way that without using a single drop of profanity, my promotional videos have all been a molotov cocktail aimed at the doubtful viewer, with words that are then backed up in the ring when I completely own all those who have dared think the outcome would have been otherwise. For this particular go around, you're just another brute whose only plan is to inflict pain, but I feed off of pain and I will make Monday Night Slam your worst nightmare. By now it ought to be clear to you that I come without a plan, without a strategy or set goal on how I am going to defeat you. The reason for that is, that I don't need to figure a way to defeat you, I just will. I really have no stripes to earn by fighting you, this match is going to be strictly for amusement. There isn't a prize for me to collect by defeating you, your whole career is worthless. I have nothing to lose or gain in this match, I have bigger fish to fry, and higher mountains to climb. You, on the other hand, are drowning while trying to swim in the stream of urine that my previous opponents have left behind after facing me.”
Noble Savage stands up from the chair with a stomp of her feet. She steps back and walks around the chair, then picks up the WCF Championship Belt from the middle of the ring. She drapes the title over her shoulder and gives a stern look to the camera.
SAVAGE:
“I AM what you have always said you are, Samuel. I AM all that you have failed to prove to BE. You're only an animal because you lack the basic motor skills that separate man from beast, but you are not in any way shape or form a dangerous animal, you are just a big cuddly sloth that does not know how to interact with with the world around you. I'm the euthanasia that has come to to put an end to your otherwise meaningless existence. You are empty cardboard box of a man, and I am that balance that moves reality. I am the reason your entire world is crumbling, Samuel and it might make Henry Losak sad to see that he is losing one of his boys to me, but just like I am going to beat you at SLAM, I would just as easily beat your husband, if he is ever assigned the misfortune of getting in the ring with me. I wouldn't even break a sweat defeating all four of you in the ring at once… Yes I said all four of you because whether it is just you alone, or if you bring your molester Little Raab, your slave owner Losak, and your little confused prostitute in the making Callum, it would be the most fun I've ever had because I get to smear all you little Hershey stains across this very ring.”
Noble Savage walks toward the turnbuckle and speaks her next words while looking out into the darkness that would be fans during a show.
SAVAGE:
“Even the entire WCF Galaxy knows what I am capable of and even they thank me for not having ended your career at WAR. They know I am a work of art forged by the devil himself, meant to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting non factors of WCF such as yourself. Samuel, understand this, the ancients made a soldier, and forged her from the very soils that birthed napalm. They gave that soldier an identity and waited for the right time and person to perform the adorcism. That person was Brandi Noble, and that ancient ballistic soul of a soldier is me… Brandi Savage. So, while you dream of being a housewife, and doing things you will never be able to do, like giving birth, or defeating me, I'm over here doing everything I may very well please. I would be lying to you if I said that the Nobility in me doesn't desire to see everyone doing well, but truth is that's an impossible goal to have. It is a waste of a sentiment. That's what the WCF Galaxy would wish for me to do, to seek he who is hungry and feed him unleavened bread, but as long as I'm Savage, people like you will never see that form of sympathy. See, people like you, Samuel, have no place in a world that is run by people like me. You are a dreamer and dramatist, Samuel. A left-handed conjuror of the absurd sense of life, my melancholic little man. And to think, they say that only the condemned are to assume their fate… Well I am a public person, and I hold no secrets from what my intentions are. My intentions for you are to leave your rubix cube rubrica in pieces from the sheer confusion that will overtake your thought process after a well placed Savage Kick. So no guessing, no assuming, just the undeniable guarantee that is your final fight in WCF. So, say goodbye to them when you arrive on Monday. Say goodbye to them all.”
Noble Savage begins to calmly pace around in the ring while gently running her fingernails along the ropes.
SAVAGE:
“Now, Sammy, I've learned to make my elixirs out of the blood of my oppressors, but you leave very little to be desired as far as competition goes, so I don't know for sure that you even qualify to be labeled an oppressor. Yeah lemons to lemonade, so to speak. But you're not a lemon, you're a lump of sugar and I… Well, I am the tsunami that flushed away the entire sugar cane field and melted what was left of you. You do not even exist to me! To exist is to feel, and here to feel is to fight, but for you to feel is to moan and complain after a match does not go your way. You don't think I've had matches that didn't turn out the way I wanted them to? My very first match here in WCF I lost to the man that carried you on his back through the tag division before your husband got jealous. Do you think that felt good? No, but I didn't complain about it like you, I learned from it and moved on. But not you, you dwell in your misery. So, people like you may look at people like me and wonder what the secret it… I'll tell you what the secret is… Sam, the only secret is that there are no secrets. I already respected this sport before using lacing up my boots. I accept the outcome of every match that I am in, whether I win or lose. You on the other hand throw tantrums and alienate the only tag partner that ever helped you win a championship. You need to learn to count your blessings, Sam.”
Noble Savage now circles back to the chair in the middle of the ring. She puts her foot up and stomps on the seat, almost looking like a Captain Morgan rip off.
SAVAGE:
“By the time I am done with you, Sam, you're going to wish that it was Noble facing you. I even have fans that would cripple you if they bothered to try. Even though they wear regular clothes and WCF branded shirts, they've never set foot in a WCF ring. They can all still massacre you and everyone like you. They know each move , each promo, from before the Savage took over and became CHAMPION, but you do not even know who has held this title before me. That in itself should show anyone how little you deserve to be in the same ring as me. Step up to those ring steps and into the house that I built, knowing full well that nothing holds any hope of taming me. If nothing forgives your failure at the War Pay per view, I stomped and marched my way through every competitor and conquered the top three at One as well. Although nobody needs to be reminded, nor does this industry that bites and devours the green. Wait, you did not understand that, I just went over your head. I SAID THIS INDUSTRY DEVOURS THE GREEN! Meaning that people like you, who lack experience, and are in fact green, this business will eat you alive, just in the same way that they swallow dollar bills from the crowds we draw. So, you… Being just a less effective copy of Dune, and playing mangina to even lesser effective copy of yourself… Should know by now that your days are numbered.”
Noble Savage thrusts her foot to the chair, effectively kicking it aside. She stares at the chair and shouts her next words as if yelling at the chair, picturing it being a person.
SAVAGE:
“I've set fire to people like you, Sam! I've destroyed neighborhoods, homes, buildings, Suburbia and its horizons! I've laid waste to mastodontic buildings and made savanas out of meadows! You know me as evil incarnate, as the reason you no longer roam the parks, the mountains, and what do you have left?! You have puddles of asphalt, heart attacks, famine and war! That's what the Savage is capable of. The main villain of the Bible is never said to be Satan, and as a matter of fact they've never named her, but I am here to tell you that it was ME! I am responsible for original sin, I am responsible for Cain slaying Abel, and I am responsible for your desire to jump up and escape, to flee among the anonymous mass
those of who swallow their pride to later collect the social security check and get to claim an adopted child in their taxes, simply to justify not wanting to get paid for wrestling! I am that villain. The villain who fights for the greater good!”
Noble Savage fixes her hair a bit and regains her calm composure. She begins speaking again softly but slowly raises her face to look at the camera as she does.
SAVAGE:
“There is no harder drug for me than a wrestling ring, Sam. But for you it is different. The drugs you do must really take a toll on you because you live in a fantasy world in which you firmly believe you will survive against me, or maybe that you will defeat me in some way. You are laughing, son. You will soon learn that it wasn't a meteor that destroyed the dinosaurs, it was the creation of the Soul of the Savage. And that is me, the undersigned, the one who writes those tweets that anger you so much, the one who revives every night in the depths of your worst nightmares. Your rude awakening, your reality check. The ballast that controls the balance that guides you. Yeah, Sam, that lonely drip of ice cold sweat that you try to hide from Callum when he asks you what's wrong, that is me and you can't handle it. I am the cold philosophy of living a day of reckoning. I am xenophiliac while you are a xenophobe. That is just another difference between us. I live for the differences that balances us. I live for the love that tortures us because loving is the greatest madness, and unless you love with madness, then you do not truly love. And since there is no love without hate then being incapable of love, which is what your autism implies, in case you forgot, that also means you are incapable of hate. But your whole life is a lie, so I get it. You try to gain sympathy from pity by claiming to be autistic, but sooner or later all of that catches yo with you. Nothing lasts, Samuel. Even I would like to be able to stop time like Bonnie Blue does, but I don't see what the point of that would be, since I am the wrinkle in time that forms the crease in which scum like you get lost and forgotten.”
Noble Savage holds the WCF Championship Belt up high and stares sternly into the camera, growling her next words with intensity.
SAVAGE:
“See this strap, Samuel? This strap right here holds a lot more power than any strap you and your husband keep in your bottom drawer. This strap right here is what dictates everything that goes on in your fleeting little world. Your entire universe is nothing more than a marble with which Brandi Savage plays. Every single little thing you do is utterly pointless if this strap is not your ultimate goal. Your delivery is blind, little big man, after so many years of investing just to get here and feel yourself dying at the hands of the first woman to win War. How saddening would it be to that stale act you call a husband to see how his bottom bro gets spanked and shanked by a girl? How does it feel, Samuel, to be wishing and begging, hoping for a fairy tale happy ending, and seeing your main character die during the prologue? And not at War, no, not at Hellimination, either. Not a high profile pay per view, just another Monday night.”
Noble Savage lowers the belt back down and replaces it over her shoulder. She looks at the gold by her face smirks at it.
SAVAGE:
“I know how much you hate promos that are not colorful and don't have little singing children in them, so I am more than convinced my mission of making you mad has been accomplished by now. So, Sammy I look forward to reading your blog entry when you rant about how long and boring this was for you.”
Noble Savage laughs as she shakes her head and walks out of the ring, leaving the light shining on the downed chair in the ring. The camera zooms in to the chair as we fade to black.
SLAM 1/28/19
Noble Savage vs. Samuel McPherson
"No Vaseline"
Word Count: 5,000
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Darkness has fallen upon the eerie night skies of Columbus, Georgia. The silence is prevalent through the lonely streets where even the winds no longer dare roam.
Before we can fully take in the scenery, the tape is stopped abruptly. We now see Noble Savage sitting on a back-turned chair in the middle of an empty wrestling ring with the WCF Championship draped over her shoulder. It is completely dark out side of the spot light that shines over her and the ring.
SAVAGE:
"Cut through the nonsense. Let's talk about the worm caught in the mud under my heel for a second here."
Noble Savage offers a sideway smirk before blowing a bubble of gum and letting it pop. The camera draws in closer as she lightly chews the gum before talking with faint smile.
SAVAGE:
"Samuel, listen up. I am hoping your hearing is better than your writing, because looking over your blogs , you have second grade grammar skills. But I've heard people say, that when you lose a sense, all other senses become heightened, so I assume your hearing is extraordinary, since you have no other damn sense in the first place. Now listen up! Because being so hurt and bitter about my Pre-War video package being long and boring, then you better take ALL the meds before this."
Noble Savage snaps her fingers and points at her self.
SAVAGE:
"HEY! Focus, Sammy! I know with your autism comes accompanied a heavy case of A.D.D. but I am going to need you to pay attention, little big boy. In your life, you have never ever done anything worth my time and I'm sure you know it. You stepped into the ring thinking you were all tough because you've defeated people that were on your level. Okay, bravo, you've defeated other morons. Good for you. But you are just now about to begin the next step in your career and you're finally going to fight in the big leagues. I've taken it very easy on you the last couple times your undeserving hide has stepped in the same ring as me. I've shown you a great deal of mercy because, number one, I know you're not worth my energy, and secondly, I feel extremely bad for you so for me to even give you a second of my attention would have a detrimental effect on your baseless confidence. But in spite of me allowing you to exist by ignoring your existence, you still managed to lose. You and I have stepped in the same ring twice. The outcome both times has been that I end up pinning and winning, and you end up getting discarded like the disposable Dixie cup that you are. So, you get mad and blog about the loss, then your cheating husband gets mad and cuts promos focused on people he's not even facing, then Henry Losak gets involved and nobody understands what he says because he talks like he's reading from a script that your mentally disabled bastard child wrote, and... Well... Then everyone and their mother laughs at you. It's a vicious cycle that will continue to repeat until you learn your place, Sammy boy."
Noble Savage takes a deep breath and flicks a strand of hair away from her forehead. She looks at the faceplate of her WCF World Championship Belt and scoffs with a light chuckle.
SAVAGE:
"And to think your unfaithful husband Lil Raab claimed to be tag team Champions with you when neither of you ever pinned anyone for those belts. In a way I'm glad Eccentrix left, because that made it easier for another team to take those belts off you. But you tried to make it seem like you're the one who won the belts, when in all actuality it was Eccentrix who pinned Teo Del Sol, not you. You were riding his coat tails, but then your jealous infidel of a husband went and intervened. He convinced the one true tag title holder at the time, that it was a good idea to quit. The truth of the matter is that the very day Eccentrix left the company, the Tag titles disappeared into obscure insignificance."
Noble Savage shakes her head, look of amusement takes over her face as if she seems to be reminded of a joke or something.
SAVAGE:
“Okay, Samuel, look. I don’t blame you for being a man of a few words, seeing as you most likely don’t even know how to pronounce enough words to string a sentence together. I have already shut more mouths than anyone else in WCF history, and I will continue to do so, but you’ve obviously been taught the hard way that even though, talk may be cheap, silence is also free. So, wise on you that your mouth can’t sign checks that your hide can’t cash. So, when your verbal skills finally reach the height of your writing skills, you just might be nearly ready for kindergarten. And I really thought it was just you with the speech impediments, but it isn’t. So that must be something contagious going on in your group home. Little Raab and Hank are both known for dragging sentences out for no apparent reason whatsoever.”
Noble Savage clears her throat a little and blurts out her next words with an eerily similar voice to Callum Raab’s, but exaggerating the lethargic and nasal impediments of his speech patterns.
SAVAGE:
“Oh, I’m Callum, but and also I’m dim-witted as well along with being as slow as my adoptive parents.”
Noble Savage laughs a little bit, then says her next words in a mocking version of Henry Losak’s voice.
SAVAGE:
“This is Henry Losak, but and also I can’t talk either as well and but aslo along with repeating myself but and also along with as well.”
Noble Savage and shakes her head while giggling.
SAVAGE:
“I swear, it is so obvious that you are all reading from the same chicken scratch scripts, that it is difficult to even take any of you seriously. Especially you, Sammy. How can anyone be afraid of a Sad Mule who refuses to remove his horse feeder from his face long enough to breathe fresh air?”
Suddenly, a meme honks on to the screen with the sound of a screaming mule accompanying it. It disappears after about a second.
“Sorry about that, Sam. I just felt I needed to keep your attention with funny pictures, seeing as your A.D.D. is evolving. By now it must be A.D.H.D DVD/RW and maybe even Blu-Ray. So, picture this, watch the birdie… That horsefeeder you wear around your snout, being cracked into three pieces, courtesy of a tomb seeker from yours truly. It’s not a very pleasant thought, is it? Picture yourself trying to explain to Callum why it is that his bottom dad has a caved in philtrum and a jaw that can not be held shut without the help of that Mule Bag. See, I’m trying to help you think, Samuel. As difficult as the concept of thought may be to someone like you, I refuse to give up on you the same way your orphanage did, and I will make sure that you at least process ONE full thought before our match on Monday. Use your head. Now that you have adopted a child from the same orphanage that didn’t want you, why don’t you just give up on wrestling? Why don’t you quit before someone like me comes along and cripples you beyond recognition? I mean, I suppose that adopting a special needs kid must be tough, especially when you’re a special needs couple yourselves. Don’t think the WCF isn’t aware of your SSI checks. That’s why you and your husband are able to afford a living without a WCF paycheck, because you’re both social security recipients and that’s all you need to get by. But why make poor little Callum follow your freeloading foot steps? Why not allow him to actually become the man that you and Little Raab can never even combine to be? Quit while you can, so that you might have enough energy and life left in you to actually enjoy the experience of raising a child.”
Noble Savage looks around her and glances back at the camera. She lets out a sigh of pity and rolls her yes before continuing to speak.
SAVAGE:
“All I can remember about you from the night of the War pay per view, is you coming down that ramp as if you thought you were hot stuff… Only to later be eliminated by… Kennedy Matthews? Are you serious, Samuel? That explains why you were so mad that monday night after War… Because you were swearing up and down saying you were going to win War, but you ended up getting eliminated by a a girl. That should show you just how far above you I am. Not just because of this shiny thing, no. I’ve been above you since before even winning this. You were eliminated by the girl who was eliminated by the guy who was eliminated by the man who was eliminated by the man, who was eliminated by me… That’s four layers of rank that you will need to climb if you ever hope to even stand a chance of survival against me. That’s why in the WCF many see me as a lunatic, because I am able to systematically defeat opponents in such a chain reaction of events that even their futur opponents will suffer. Others regard me as their lord and savior, but I prefer not to be leveled down to the rank of Lord. My title is WCF Champion, but rank is not just the mountain top, I am the mountain! Life is like that, Samuel, illiterate little etceteras like you are destined to live under the grime of my boot and then you die.”
Noble Savage now lets the WCF Championship Belt lie in front of her, just at the feet of the chair. She smiles down at the belt while letting her chin and cheak gently rest on the backrest of the chair.
SAVAGE:
“But Samuel, you have never won any gold. Sure you were tag team champion, but as I already mentioned before, you didn’t win that. You just bullied the partner you had into giving it to you. You don’t know what it’s like to have something in your hands that you actually earned yourself. Just like that special ed student that you adopted because he reminds you of yourself, the belt you once held was not yours. It was someone else’s and you were holding it for a while. That’s why everyone in the WCF even forgot the tag title existed when eccentrix left. That’s why you later lost those tag titles to little sweet Estrella Luiz. Because your hands are made of human feces and anything you hold in them will either start to stink, or simply fall from your weak grip. So, on Monday, it isn’t about the WCF Championship becaue you haven’t earned that shot. But it is you against me, which means it is about the WCF Champion dancing an old ballad with you that ends in the most tragic way. Your destiny is the one that you chose, and you chose wrong. It will be a sad tune that will be played when the WCF Paramedics don’t know whether to call an ambulance or an undertaker to come measure you. That’s when you’ll find yourself in a predicament that you cannot get yourself out of… You will be left with just two choices, hold on to dear life and retire from wrestling so that you can provide a decent life to your special needs kid… Or let go completely and head towards the light, saying goodbye forever… That is a perspective you will have to reflect on… To reflect on your own life less badly, and… LOOK! Wake up, drool cup! Look at the end, do you see it? The end is the same for everyone, and this is the cycle of man, and the ultimate goal of life is to Die… To reach that finish line as late as possible, but to reach it nontheless. Death is the summit if you don’t submit, Sammy. If you don’t call your God once I have you in my grip, there are no miracles, it is simply... lights out.”
Noble Savage snaps her finger with that last word, and the spot light that is shining on her shuts off, leaving us to stare at darkness. We still hear Noble Savage’s voice even if we cannot see her.
SAVAGE:
“The road is long, Samuel. You haven’t even begun the trail, and you sure as hell won’t make it to where I am any time soon. You might have what it takes to defeat a superstar of your peers, but when it comes to Noble Savage, you are in way over your head, little boy. I don’t think you quite understand the mentality that it takes to be who I am. I go out there with a heart of stone. Unlike you, I get dressed, I lace up my boots, and I and go out there ready to take my career to the next level! What is it you go out there for? To have fun? To hurt someone and convince yourself that’s worth your while? Where is the compensation in that? I, too enjoy dishing out excruciating pain, but that leaves little to be desired if it doesn’t advance my personal growth. Everything I do, I do for the greater good, and you’re just a small fry trying to focus on whether or not the referee counted fast enough. Complaining about the outcome of the matches you’ve thrown. Meanwhile, I’m over here taking names, riding out there every day between cheetahs and weasels, and although Lady Abernathy tells me that there no luxury in blood, truth is, I do want a moral construct to fill my pride, made exclusively out of the blood, sweat, tears, and bones of my victi-- I mean, opponents. I used to be like you when I first started. Hell, Noble herself wanted me BEATEN out of her but I thrived on that and that is why we became the best of friends. Now, instead of hitch hiking and taking public transportation from show to show, I get car service, and private jets, which of course this Championship Belt brings the perks of it, but you would never know that, Sammy. Because you will never be on my level.”
The lights come back on and Noble Savage is sitting in the same position she was before they went out. With her hands now extended out, Noble Savage speaks while pretending to balance her next points on each palm.
SAVAGE:
“To you, sensibilities seem to be weaknesses, which is why you lost your common and forgot your sense. Now the only sense you have left is your sense of self-importance, which only exists within the dusty confines of your empty mind. But to me, sensibilities are strength. They keep me grounded and remind me that I really should feel sorry for those who have been damned with the curse of having to face me one on one. Unlike you, Sammy, I am faithful to my motto; The seeds of the future lie buried in the past. And that's the balance that moves earth. Without any added enhancements or disabilities, I've managed to shut up all the naysayers. The same way that without using a single drop of profanity, my promotional videos have all been a molotov cocktail aimed at the doubtful viewer, with words that are then backed up in the ring when I completely own all those who have dared think the outcome would have been otherwise. For this particular go around, you're just another brute whose only plan is to inflict pain, but I feed off of pain and I will make Monday Night Slam your worst nightmare. By now it ought to be clear to you that I come without a plan, without a strategy or set goal on how I am going to defeat you. The reason for that is, that I don't need to figure a way to defeat you, I just will. I really have no stripes to earn by fighting you, this match is going to be strictly for amusement. There isn't a prize for me to collect by defeating you, your whole career is worthless. I have nothing to lose or gain in this match, I have bigger fish to fry, and higher mountains to climb. You, on the other hand, are drowning while trying to swim in the stream of urine that my previous opponents have left behind after facing me.”
Noble Savage stands up from the chair with a stomp of her feet. She steps back and walks around the chair, then picks up the WCF Championship Belt from the middle of the ring. She drapes the title over her shoulder and gives a stern look to the camera.
SAVAGE:
“I AM what you have always said you are, Samuel. I AM all that you have failed to prove to BE. You're only an animal because you lack the basic motor skills that separate man from beast, but you are not in any way shape or form a dangerous animal, you are just a big cuddly sloth that does not know how to interact with with the world around you. I'm the euthanasia that has come to to put an end to your otherwise meaningless existence. You are empty cardboard box of a man, and I am that balance that moves reality. I am the reason your entire world is crumbling, Samuel and it might make Henry Losak sad to see that he is losing one of his boys to me, but just like I am going to beat you at SLAM, I would just as easily beat your husband, if he is ever assigned the misfortune of getting in the ring with me. I wouldn't even break a sweat defeating all four of you in the ring at once… Yes I said all four of you because whether it is just you alone, or if you bring your molester Little Raab, your slave owner Losak, and your little confused prostitute in the making Callum, it would be the most fun I've ever had because I get to smear all you little Hershey stains across this very ring.”
Noble Savage walks toward the turnbuckle and speaks her next words while looking out into the darkness that would be fans during a show.
SAVAGE:
“Even the entire WCF Galaxy knows what I am capable of and even they thank me for not having ended your career at WAR. They know I am a work of art forged by the devil himself, meant to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting non factors of WCF such as yourself. Samuel, understand this, the ancients made a soldier, and forged her from the very soils that birthed napalm. They gave that soldier an identity and waited for the right time and person to perform the adorcism. That person was Brandi Noble, and that ancient ballistic soul of a soldier is me… Brandi Savage. So, while you dream of being a housewife, and doing things you will never be able to do, like giving birth, or defeating me, I'm over here doing everything I may very well please. I would be lying to you if I said that the Nobility in me doesn't desire to see everyone doing well, but truth is that's an impossible goal to have. It is a waste of a sentiment. That's what the WCF Galaxy would wish for me to do, to seek he who is hungry and feed him unleavened bread, but as long as I'm Savage, people like you will never see that form of sympathy. See, people like you, Samuel, have no place in a world that is run by people like me. You are a dreamer and dramatist, Samuel. A left-handed conjuror of the absurd sense of life, my melancholic little man. And to think, they say that only the condemned are to assume their fate… Well I am a public person, and I hold no secrets from what my intentions are. My intentions for you are to leave your rubix cube rubrica in pieces from the sheer confusion that will overtake your thought process after a well placed Savage Kick. So no guessing, no assuming, just the undeniable guarantee that is your final fight in WCF. So, say goodbye to them when you arrive on Monday. Say goodbye to them all.”
Noble Savage begins to calmly pace around in the ring while gently running her fingernails along the ropes.
SAVAGE:
“Now, Sammy, I've learned to make my elixirs out of the blood of my oppressors, but you leave very little to be desired as far as competition goes, so I don't know for sure that you even qualify to be labeled an oppressor. Yeah lemons to lemonade, so to speak. But you're not a lemon, you're a lump of sugar and I… Well, I am the tsunami that flushed away the entire sugar cane field and melted what was left of you. You do not even exist to me! To exist is to feel, and here to feel is to fight, but for you to feel is to moan and complain after a match does not go your way. You don't think I've had matches that didn't turn out the way I wanted them to? My very first match here in WCF I lost to the man that carried you on his back through the tag division before your husband got jealous. Do you think that felt good? No, but I didn't complain about it like you, I learned from it and moved on. But not you, you dwell in your misery. So, people like you may look at people like me and wonder what the secret it… I'll tell you what the secret is… Sam, the only secret is that there are no secrets. I already respected this sport before using lacing up my boots. I accept the outcome of every match that I am in, whether I win or lose. You on the other hand throw tantrums and alienate the only tag partner that ever helped you win a championship. You need to learn to count your blessings, Sam.”
Noble Savage now circles back to the chair in the middle of the ring. She puts her foot up and stomps on the seat, almost looking like a Captain Morgan rip off.
SAVAGE:
“By the time I am done with you, Sam, you're going to wish that it was Noble facing you. I even have fans that would cripple you if they bothered to try. Even though they wear regular clothes and WCF branded shirts, they've never set foot in a WCF ring. They can all still massacre you and everyone like you. They know each move , each promo, from before the Savage took over and became CHAMPION, but you do not even know who has held this title before me. That in itself should show anyone how little you deserve to be in the same ring as me. Step up to those ring steps and into the house that I built, knowing full well that nothing holds any hope of taming me. If nothing forgives your failure at the War Pay per view, I stomped and marched my way through every competitor and conquered the top three at One as well. Although nobody needs to be reminded, nor does this industry that bites and devours the green. Wait, you did not understand that, I just went over your head. I SAID THIS INDUSTRY DEVOURS THE GREEN! Meaning that people like you, who lack experience, and are in fact green, this business will eat you alive, just in the same way that they swallow dollar bills from the crowds we draw. So, you… Being just a less effective copy of Dune, and playing mangina to even lesser effective copy of yourself… Should know by now that your days are numbered.”
Noble Savage thrusts her foot to the chair, effectively kicking it aside. She stares at the chair and shouts her next words as if yelling at the chair, picturing it being a person.
SAVAGE:
“I've set fire to people like you, Sam! I've destroyed neighborhoods, homes, buildings, Suburbia and its horizons! I've laid waste to mastodontic buildings and made savanas out of meadows! You know me as evil incarnate, as the reason you no longer roam the parks, the mountains, and what do you have left?! You have puddles of asphalt, heart attacks, famine and war! That's what the Savage is capable of. The main villain of the Bible is never said to be Satan, and as a matter of fact they've never named her, but I am here to tell you that it was ME! I am responsible for original sin, I am responsible for Cain slaying Abel, and I am responsible for your desire to jump up and escape, to flee among the anonymous mass
those of who swallow their pride to later collect the social security check and get to claim an adopted child in their taxes, simply to justify not wanting to get paid for wrestling! I am that villain. The villain who fights for the greater good!”
Noble Savage fixes her hair a bit and regains her calm composure. She begins speaking again softly but slowly raises her face to look at the camera as she does.
SAVAGE:
“There is no harder drug for me than a wrestling ring, Sam. But for you it is different. The drugs you do must really take a toll on you because you live in a fantasy world in which you firmly believe you will survive against me, or maybe that you will defeat me in some way. You are laughing, son. You will soon learn that it wasn't a meteor that destroyed the dinosaurs, it was the creation of the Soul of the Savage. And that is me, the undersigned, the one who writes those tweets that anger you so much, the one who revives every night in the depths of your worst nightmares. Your rude awakening, your reality check. The ballast that controls the balance that guides you. Yeah, Sam, that lonely drip of ice cold sweat that you try to hide from Callum when he asks you what's wrong, that is me and you can't handle it. I am the cold philosophy of living a day of reckoning. I am xenophiliac while you are a xenophobe. That is just another difference between us. I live for the differences that balances us. I live for the love that tortures us because loving is the greatest madness, and unless you love with madness, then you do not truly love. And since there is no love without hate then being incapable of love, which is what your autism implies, in case you forgot, that also means you are incapable of hate. But your whole life is a lie, so I get it. You try to gain sympathy from pity by claiming to be autistic, but sooner or later all of that catches yo with you. Nothing lasts, Samuel. Even I would like to be able to stop time like Bonnie Blue does, but I don't see what the point of that would be, since I am the wrinkle in time that forms the crease in which scum like you get lost and forgotten.”
Noble Savage holds the WCF Championship Belt up high and stares sternly into the camera, growling her next words with intensity.
SAVAGE:
“See this strap, Samuel? This strap right here holds a lot more power than any strap you and your husband keep in your bottom drawer. This strap right here is what dictates everything that goes on in your fleeting little world. Your entire universe is nothing more than a marble with which Brandi Savage plays. Every single little thing you do is utterly pointless if this strap is not your ultimate goal. Your delivery is blind, little big man, after so many years of investing just to get here and feel yourself dying at the hands of the first woman to win War. How saddening would it be to that stale act you call a husband to see how his bottom bro gets spanked and shanked by a girl? How does it feel, Samuel, to be wishing and begging, hoping for a fairy tale happy ending, and seeing your main character die during the prologue? And not at War, no, not at Hellimination, either. Not a high profile pay per view, just another Monday night.”
Noble Savage lowers the belt back down and replaces it over her shoulder. She looks at the gold by her face smirks at it.
SAVAGE:
“I know how much you hate promos that are not colorful and don't have little singing children in them, so I am more than convinced my mission of making you mad has been accomplished by now. So, Sammy I look forward to reading your blog entry when you rant about how long and boring this was for you.”
Noble Savage laughs as she shakes her head and walks out of the ring, leaving the light shining on the downed chair in the ring. The camera zooms in to the chair as we fade to black.
