Post by Torture on Aug 19, 2006 2:09:32 GMT -5
- You know that sound your television makes when you shut it off. No? Ok. Well, turn everything off in your house except for one tv.. make sure everything is quiet as be. Your television volume should be normal, not too loud, nor too quiet. Concentrate on the television for a good twenty-five seconds. Don't even time yourself, just concentrate for a good chunk of time. Then press the power button. That noise your television makes.. That split-second akward noise. Not like a "Bam" or a "Zip".. more like a.. well I don't even know what to call it, but for now lets just call it "Zig.". The noise your television makes when you turn it off is called Zig.
- Zig.
- A television which was once on, for a whole two seconds, is now off. We pan out. The shitty entertainment center which holds the huge twenty-two inch television set. The coffee table. White shoes with a pair of white socks, and two legs. Two familiar legs. We keep panning out, with the kitchen in the background, and now an upperbody sitting on a familiar couch. A head is now seen with a face.
- It's Torture. A Detroit Tigers hat and a neckalace thathangs down. His tatoos are seen with a silver sports tanktop draping over his chest and stomach area.
Torture: Insane? Are you kidding me right now?
- His feet stomp the floor coming off the coffee table. Torture now sits up on the couch and fixes his hat to form his head.
Torture: Insane? Working eighty hours a week in a cubicle would be insane, but do you want to know what's really insane? A Wrestler who has worked his god damn ass off for three great years. Okay? Three years and sixty-five plus singles matches and over twenty tag matches. Numerous Championships, including Tag Team, Hardcore and a World Championship to his name. A tournament win to his name to boot as well. That Wrestler has done nothing but pass every god for saken test his bosses have thrown at him. Every test, every angle, and every way possible of ever breaking this human being has failed. Parents died at an early age but did he bitch? Hell no.. He went on with life knowing that if he took more than one day mourning over his loss of two important supporters in his life, he'd be wasting his time.
So he moves on to something else. The streets could of had him, Jack. The dark, cold, heartless streets could of had him, but he didn't let it. He fought. He trained, he picked up something constructive. Wrestling. He trained, and just wanted something to do living in some run down apartment almost mirroring this shitty one. He ran.. all the time. He woke up. Ran. Lunch? Ran. In his sleep? Was dreaming of running. He ran, he lifted wieghts, he punched. He kicked. He picked up people and slammed them down in the ring for a god damn paycheck. Then it hit him. This .. this what he's doing.. is his sign.. his call.. his what was an average life.. was now a meaningful experience. He found love. He found a son. Immature relationship? Nope. He was ready for it.. Marriage. That happiness turned to tragedy, and it's all because this man put his "insane" trust into a man who he could have swore up and down on the bible was his friend. He learned it was deeper than that. It wasn't just a "friend", Jack.. it was "friends".. friends.. who were no longer friends. They were enemies. Enemies... caused death.
Here comes the mourning again.. this time it wasn't one day.. two days.. three... it's a week.. hell, it was three weeks. Every second, every minute, every car that passed by, every rain drop that crashed against the window, and every lightning strike that showed it's face, this man was thinking.. thinking of why all of this in his life has happened to him. Good and bad. The tragedies. The rewards. The balance. It's all about balance, Jack, and for some reason.. this man just kept coming.
He comes back to wrestling.. undefeated for two years.. Wins the grandest title of them all.. The World Championship..and instead of celebrating, another man comes down and ruins it. Why? Because people let it happen..
- Torture stops. He then continues.
Torture: So, do you want to know what insane really is? GOING THROUGH HELL AND BACK AND NOT BEING NOTICED! THREE YEARS, JACK! THREE GOD DAMN YEARS I'VE SWEAT, BLED, CRIED, MOURNED, ENJOYED THIS FEDERATION. THIS COMPANY! I PISSED AND SHIT WRESTLING CHAMPIONSHIP FEDERATION!!
- Torture wipes his mouth and tries to catch his breath from the yelling.
Torture: What do I get for it? NOT A GOD DAMN THING! AM I MENTIONED IN THE WCF HISTORY BOOKS? NOPE! IN TEN YEARS, SOMEONE WILL READ THAT AND I WON'T EVEN EXIST! WHAT DO I GET? SNOBBY PIECES OF SHIT LIKE YOU TRYING TO TRAMPLE ALL OVER EVERYTHING I'VE FUCKIN' WORKED FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE! FOR YOU TO JOIN SIDES OF LOGAN AND SETH LERCH WITHOUT EVER KNOWING WHAT IS REALLY GOING ON IS WHAT MAKES YOU AN UNEDUCATED HUMAN BEING! INSANE? NO. A BRAINLESS, TALENTLESS, ONE TIME WONDER..
- Catching his breath once again.
Torture: Trying to come up in the Company that has been on top of the Wrestling World for almost a decade is hard as fuck when you have someone holding you down. Treating you like garbage. Shitty hotels. Hardly any food to eat. Can't train nor practice. No dressing rooms. Appearences in small hick towns. The cash flow which we all know is raking in.. and we don't see a god damn dime of it. Our pay equaled the low IQ society of Pizza Hut and Kentucky Fried Chicken. Insane? Working in those conditions is insane, Jack. You? You're not insane... you're small... a small nobody in this world of Wrestling. Heh. Team of Treachery.. If you think for one milla-second that you guys are going to walk over us this Sunday, at the Pay Per View, the next week and the week after that.. you have another thing coming, Jack. Ace. Logan. Biggs. Beyond. Sexton. Lerch. All of you.. this just isn't another one of those stables.. This is the New Dynasty. These are men who are no longer putting up with shit.
It's a shame, Jack. A damn shame. To think, I thought the youth of this world would actually get better. It seems it's just drifting away.
- Torture shakes his head in disgust. The scene slowly fades out.
- Zig.
- A television which was once on, for a whole two seconds, is now off. We pan out. The shitty entertainment center which holds the huge twenty-two inch television set. The coffee table. White shoes with a pair of white socks, and two legs. Two familiar legs. We keep panning out, with the kitchen in the background, and now an upperbody sitting on a familiar couch. A head is now seen with a face.
- It's Torture. A Detroit Tigers hat and a neckalace thathangs down. His tatoos are seen with a silver sports tanktop draping over his chest and stomach area.
Torture: Insane? Are you kidding me right now?
- His feet stomp the floor coming off the coffee table. Torture now sits up on the couch and fixes his hat to form his head.
Torture: Insane? Working eighty hours a week in a cubicle would be insane, but do you want to know what's really insane? A Wrestler who has worked his god damn ass off for three great years. Okay? Three years and sixty-five plus singles matches and over twenty tag matches. Numerous Championships, including Tag Team, Hardcore and a World Championship to his name. A tournament win to his name to boot as well. That Wrestler has done nothing but pass every god for saken test his bosses have thrown at him. Every test, every angle, and every way possible of ever breaking this human being has failed. Parents died at an early age but did he bitch? Hell no.. He went on with life knowing that if he took more than one day mourning over his loss of two important supporters in his life, he'd be wasting his time.
So he moves on to something else. The streets could of had him, Jack. The dark, cold, heartless streets could of had him, but he didn't let it. He fought. He trained, he picked up something constructive. Wrestling. He trained, and just wanted something to do living in some run down apartment almost mirroring this shitty one. He ran.. all the time. He woke up. Ran. Lunch? Ran. In his sleep? Was dreaming of running. He ran, he lifted wieghts, he punched. He kicked. He picked up people and slammed them down in the ring for a god damn paycheck. Then it hit him. This .. this what he's doing.. is his sign.. his call.. his what was an average life.. was now a meaningful experience. He found love. He found a son. Immature relationship? Nope. He was ready for it.. Marriage. That happiness turned to tragedy, and it's all because this man put his "insane" trust into a man who he could have swore up and down on the bible was his friend. He learned it was deeper than that. It wasn't just a "friend", Jack.. it was "friends".. friends.. who were no longer friends. They were enemies. Enemies... caused death.
Here comes the mourning again.. this time it wasn't one day.. two days.. three... it's a week.. hell, it was three weeks. Every second, every minute, every car that passed by, every rain drop that crashed against the window, and every lightning strike that showed it's face, this man was thinking.. thinking of why all of this in his life has happened to him. Good and bad. The tragedies. The rewards. The balance. It's all about balance, Jack, and for some reason.. this man just kept coming.
He comes back to wrestling.. undefeated for two years.. Wins the grandest title of them all.. The World Championship..and instead of celebrating, another man comes down and ruins it. Why? Because people let it happen..
- Torture stops. He then continues.
Torture: So, do you want to know what insane really is? GOING THROUGH HELL AND BACK AND NOT BEING NOTICED! THREE YEARS, JACK! THREE GOD DAMN YEARS I'VE SWEAT, BLED, CRIED, MOURNED, ENJOYED THIS FEDERATION. THIS COMPANY! I PISSED AND SHIT WRESTLING CHAMPIONSHIP FEDERATION!!
- Torture wipes his mouth and tries to catch his breath from the yelling.
Torture: What do I get for it? NOT A GOD DAMN THING! AM I MENTIONED IN THE WCF HISTORY BOOKS? NOPE! IN TEN YEARS, SOMEONE WILL READ THAT AND I WON'T EVEN EXIST! WHAT DO I GET? SNOBBY PIECES OF SHIT LIKE YOU TRYING TO TRAMPLE ALL OVER EVERYTHING I'VE FUCKIN' WORKED FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE! FOR YOU TO JOIN SIDES OF LOGAN AND SETH LERCH WITHOUT EVER KNOWING WHAT IS REALLY GOING ON IS WHAT MAKES YOU AN UNEDUCATED HUMAN BEING! INSANE? NO. A BRAINLESS, TALENTLESS, ONE TIME WONDER..
- Catching his breath once again.
Torture: Trying to come up in the Company that has been on top of the Wrestling World for almost a decade is hard as fuck when you have someone holding you down. Treating you like garbage. Shitty hotels. Hardly any food to eat. Can't train nor practice. No dressing rooms. Appearences in small hick towns. The cash flow which we all know is raking in.. and we don't see a god damn dime of it. Our pay equaled the low IQ society of Pizza Hut and Kentucky Fried Chicken. Insane? Working in those conditions is insane, Jack. You? You're not insane... you're small... a small nobody in this world of Wrestling. Heh. Team of Treachery.. If you think for one milla-second that you guys are going to walk over us this Sunday, at the Pay Per View, the next week and the week after that.. you have another thing coming, Jack. Ace. Logan. Biggs. Beyond. Sexton. Lerch. All of you.. this just isn't another one of those stables.. This is the New Dynasty. These are men who are no longer putting up with shit.
It's a shame, Jack. A damn shame. To think, I thought the youth of this world would actually get better. It seems it's just drifting away.
- Torture shakes his head in disgust. The scene slowly fades out.
