Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2011 2:50:00 GMT -5
As the scene opens you awaken in an all to familiar setting. It's been a long time since you've awoken to total darkness. Darkness that surrounds..touches you..is inhaled down into your lungs. Oh yes, you know this scene all to well. You try to run from it, even try to hide from it, but there is no escaping it. Because once it has you in it's grip there is nothing left for you but to feel the cold embrace of death. But yet you still try to escape, fumbling in the sea of blackness with flailing arms, trying your hardest to find anything around you. And then that's when you hear it. That's when you hear the voice that's always haunted you in your dreams.
Welcome back to the nightmare.
You clasp your hands firmly over top of your ears as you try to block out the haunting sound of his voice, but it still finds a way to penetrate deep into your brain.
It's been much too long since the last time we've had the chance to be together. You probably thought that you had been saved after all this time had passed, but as I've told you before, you are never safe as long as I exist. And unfortunately for you, this nightmare will never end.
His haunting laugh vibrates through your cerebellum as you curl up into the fetal position, still clasping your hands over your ears in a futile attempt to block them out. Suddenly you can feel yourself being dragged across the ground with reckless abandon as you are smacked into several solid objects. You try to scream but come to find that your vocal cords suddenly refuse to cooperate. And then, as quickly as you were snatched up, you are released. Your voice returns as you begin to scream frantically for help.
SILENCE
The single word is spoken with such calmness and yet it is so loud that it nearly deafens you. Your ears ring as a white light appears in the distance. As it draws nearer the intensity with which it shines into your eyes increases until it's at a near blinding level. And then he appears, his face right in front of yours as his eyes stare into yours, almost as if he's looking past them and into your soul.
Screaming won't do you a bit of good when the only person who can hear you is standing right in front of you.
You go to speak and his hand quickly clamps itself over top of your mouth.
Shhh, don't speak, just listen. The time has come for WCF to once again come face to face with their deepest and darkest of fears. It's been far too long since they've felt the darkness around them, and we just can't have them feeling safe once again. So go forth, act as my messenger and tell them all of my impending return. Tell them all Hank, tell them all.
The white light intensifies as the last word from the voice fades out. The camera begins to shake violently until suddenly...
Hank Brown sits up in his bed, sweat pouring down as his face as he looks around his bedroom.
Hank Brown: Dear god...no.
The scene fades out as a visibly shaken Hank Brown picks up a pillow from beside him and clutches it to his chest.
- - - - - - -
The scene opens up inside of the bedroom of Jay Price as he sits propped up against the headboard of his bed, Shannan laying with her head on his chest fast asleep, as he stares ahead at the wall. His phone vibrates on the nightstand next to him, the sound stirring Shannan but not waking her as she rolls onto her other side. Price picks the phone up, reads the message and then places it back onto the stand. Just another text from one of his former This_Is_War partners congratulating him on the destruction of the WCF Arena. A little bit of a smile comes over his face as he thinks about it. He then looks over toward the clock on the wall, sees it's only three in the morning, and the smile fades.
Fucking insomnia.
He tries to think back to the last time he actually got a good nights sleep but his mind draws a blank. He then looks over at Shannan, sleeping soundly.
Yeah that's right, rub it in you lucky bitch
Price pushes the blankets off of him and swings his legs off the bed and onto the cool wooden floors. He stretches his arms above his head, cracks his neck and takes one more look over at Shannan before he stands up and heads for the bathroom door. He flips on the light switch and is temporarily blinded by the bright lights that flash on. Once the spots fade away he walks toward the sink and opens up the medicine cabinet in front of him. A row of plastic orange bottles, each baring his name on the front, greets him like a small squad of soldiers ready for battle. He takes one from each bottle and pops them into his mouth before washing them down with a glass of water from the sink.
Shit, you'd think for how much I paid for these damn pills they'd taste a little bit better.
He then closes up the medicine cabinet and takes a minute to look at his reflection in the mirror. A bit of stubble and a pair of bloodshot eyes has him looking much older than his 24 years, but that's insomnia for you...one big ol' bitch on your looks. He turns on the warm water and splashes a little on his face before wiping it off with a hand towel. He hangs it back up, flips off the lights and quietly walks back into the bedroom. Shannan is up, most likely awakened by the sound of the running water, sleepily rubbing her eyes.
Shannan Lerch: Still can't sleep?
Jay Price: Nope. Why don't you go ahead and get back to sleep, I'm gonna head downstairs and go over some of that paperwork they sent me.
Shannan Lerch: Poor Jay. Poor...poor.....
Shannan's sentence trails off and is replaced by a light snoring as she drifts right back off into dream land. Price can only shake his head in disbelief as he turns and exits the bedroom. He heads down the stairs and into the kitchen where he flips on the lights. He takes a seat at the table and picks up a manila folder that has his name and address written across the front. He had avoided it earlier, knowing what was inside without even having to open it, despite Shannan's pestering to look. He tears open the end and pulls out the stack of forms from inside, each proudly baring the green WCF logo at the top. He reads over them, signs where a signature is needed, and then slides them back into the envelope. He leans back in the chair, arms crossed behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling fan above him.
These times....they sure are changing.
The scene fades out as Price continues to stare up at the fan.
- - - - - - -
The scene fades back in, later on in the same day, with a shot of Hank Brown standing outside of a coffee shop in downtown Philadelphia. He looks down at his watch to check the time and then looks back up in time to see Price rounding the corner headed toward him. The two men shake hands and then walk into the shop. As they wait in line Hank gives the cameraman the signal to start filming.
Hank Brown: It's been a while, how you been?
Jay Price: As good as ever.
Hank Brown: Really? Because you look like shit.
Jay Price: Just a little bit of lost sleep, nothing major. Speaking of which, you look a little worn out yourself. Up late with the ol' fleshlight again?
Hank lets out a sarcastic laugh as he takes his order from the barista. Price grabs his also and the two head for a nearby booth.
Hank Brown: So do I even want to know what the hell was going through your mind when you decided to drive a Humvee through the arena and then take out half of our staff? I mean please, tell me you were drunk or something so that I don't have to believe that you're just that fucked up in the head.
A mother in the booth behind Hank lets out an annoyed grunt and covers up the ears of her son sitting beside her. She then hurriedly pushes him out of the booth and away from the two.
Jay Price: I figured if I was going to show up on Slam I might as well do it in style. And what's more stylish than driving a fucking Humvee through the arena, into the ring and crowd and then dropping that annoying, hot air filled Zach Davis through a table. I mean really, you tell me something more impressive and I'll call you a liar.
Hank Brown: I didn't say it wasn't impressive, but it was incredibly crazy. Not to mention careless, reckless and downright stupid. I mean honestly Jay, you could have hurt somebody.
Jay Price: Aww quit being such a damn spoil sport Hank. Shit, I remember a time when you were actually fun to be around. In fact, I remember a time that me and you went down to Mexico and I bought you a hooker. What was her name? Julio?
Hank Brown: Hey, you said you'd never mention that trip again.
Price grins as Hank downs half of his coffee and then looks around nervously.
Jay Price: Relax Hank, I'm just messing with you. Look, maybe it wasn't the smartest stunt to pull but it got the exact reaction that I was looking for. People were shocked and astonished at first, and then they couldn't stop talking about it. And all of that talk generated a lot of interest in yours truly once again, which in turn ended with a spot back on the WCF roster.
Hank Brown: Couldn't you have just asked for your job back?
Jay Price: Now where's the originality in that?
Hank Brown: Touche. So now what are you going to do about the Logan situation. It seemed like most of what you said on Slam had to do with the battle you two have been fighting, but now it looks like Logan is gone. So what's next?
Jay Price: That's a damn good question Hank, and to be honest I wish I had an answer for you. I planned on coming back and picking things up with Logan where we last left off, but if he's really decided to pack it up and leave for good then who knows. I guess the only thing that I can do is look ahead to whatever the powers at be put in front of me.
Hank Brown: Well what they've put in front of you this week is a pair of newcomers that picked up some impressive wins last week. Add to that the fact that the winner of your match goes on to be part of the main event at Ultimate Showdown and you've got something interesting to look forward to.
Jay Price: Oh Hank, how I truly envy your optimism. I wish I could look at this match and see something interesting, but when I look at it all I see is one big disappointment for the fans when they have to watch as the man they hate oh so dearly has his arm raised in victory.
Price mockingly raises his arm in the air to give Hank the visual.
Jay Price: Because you can throw any label you wish on this match, be it Winners Bracket and Price...or A Pair Of Jobbers Bracket and Price...or, my own personnel favorite, Yet Another Pair Of Sheep Set For Slaughter And Price...but no matter the label the fact is that end result will always be the same. I mean yes, I've been out of the ring for over two months and these two are coming fresh off victories. But for the love of god Hank, we're talking about me, Jay Fucking Price, against another random set of tits for the guys in the audience to fawn over and some Texan who likes to call himself "Magnificent". Well I don't know about you Hank, but last I heard only two things come from Texas: Steers and Queers. And I've never once heard of a steer that can talk.
Hank clears his throat as he looks over toward the couple sitting at a nearby table. They both shoot Hank a dirty look and then resume their conversation.
Hank Brown: Jay I really don't think you can say que...
Jay Price: Shut it Brown. You know better than anyone I will say whatever the fuck I want. And unlike Morris, I will drop your ass if you get in my face and try to tell me what I can and cannot say.
The serious look on Price's face is enough to cause Hank to move on with the interview.
Hank Brown: Well as I'm sure that you have heard the comments that Russell made toward you, would you care to respond?
Jay Price: It was...cute. I'll give him kudos for using the word mongoloid, defiantly never remember being called that one before. But as for everything else, I really don't know if a response is necessary. I mean anything I could say about the guy would pale in comparison to the embarrassment he's already brought about himself with what can only be described as a speech you'd expect your drunk, senile grandfather to make. But if you insist on a sound byte for the interview...
Price sighs and takes a sip of his coffee before continuing.
Jay Price: I think it's absolutely hilarious that someone who claims to have been with a silver spoon between his lips speaks with the same coherence as a middle school student who's mind has been melted away by the effects of over texting and way too much time on the internet. And what's more, using juvenile humor as means for trying to insult me? No, Russle is merely doing my job for me and insulting himself. And as for planning on wrecking my comeback, Russle would probably benefit more from planning on how he's going to get his next paycheck after I remind the WCF brass what real talent actually looks like.
Hank Brown: And what are your thoughts on Aubrey Summers?
Jay Price: Well she's got one hell of a set of ti..
Hank Brown: I meant your thoughts on her recent in-ring performances Jay.
Jay Price: I won't lie to you Hank, I've been surprisingly impressed with Ms. Summers. Taking out five guys in one match, including Steve Thunder and Mr. FPV, not too shabby at all. But that's the in-ring stuff. Her behavior outside of the ring though is a different story.
Hank Brown: Care to elaborate.
Jay Price: No good can come from associating with a man that was sprung from Logan's seed.
Hank Brown: I take it you're referring to the relationship between Aubrey and your neph..
Jay reaches across the table and knocks Hank's coffee onto his lap. Hank jumps up from his chair and begins frantically brushing the hot liquid from his crotch.
Jay Price: Never again call that thing my nephew. It's bad enough that I have to deal with the fact that Logan is my brother...
Price shudders at the mere thought.
Jay Price: ...but I will never recognize that spawn of Logan as a member of my family. As for Aubrey and her relationship with Speede, I don't see it and I pity her poor family when they finally meet him, but if that's the type of people she chooses to associate herself with then so be it.
Price pauses as the cell phone in his pocket rings. He pulls it out and answers as Hank continues to wipe the coffee off of his pants. He sits back down just as Price is finishing up his call.
Jay Price: All right, we have to wrap this up now because I've got shit to do before my flight. So unless you've got anymore questions...
Hank checks his note cards and then shakes his head no.
Jay Price:...well then as always it's been fun.
Price gets up and walks off as the scene fades out.
Welcome back to the nightmare.
You clasp your hands firmly over top of your ears as you try to block out the haunting sound of his voice, but it still finds a way to penetrate deep into your brain.
It's been much too long since the last time we've had the chance to be together. You probably thought that you had been saved after all this time had passed, but as I've told you before, you are never safe as long as I exist. And unfortunately for you, this nightmare will never end.
His haunting laugh vibrates through your cerebellum as you curl up into the fetal position, still clasping your hands over your ears in a futile attempt to block them out. Suddenly you can feel yourself being dragged across the ground with reckless abandon as you are smacked into several solid objects. You try to scream but come to find that your vocal cords suddenly refuse to cooperate. And then, as quickly as you were snatched up, you are released. Your voice returns as you begin to scream frantically for help.
SILENCE
The single word is spoken with such calmness and yet it is so loud that it nearly deafens you. Your ears ring as a white light appears in the distance. As it draws nearer the intensity with which it shines into your eyes increases until it's at a near blinding level. And then he appears, his face right in front of yours as his eyes stare into yours, almost as if he's looking past them and into your soul.
Screaming won't do you a bit of good when the only person who can hear you is standing right in front of you.
You go to speak and his hand quickly clamps itself over top of your mouth.
Shhh, don't speak, just listen. The time has come for WCF to once again come face to face with their deepest and darkest of fears. It's been far too long since they've felt the darkness around them, and we just can't have them feeling safe once again. So go forth, act as my messenger and tell them all of my impending return. Tell them all Hank, tell them all.
The white light intensifies as the last word from the voice fades out. The camera begins to shake violently until suddenly...
Hank Brown sits up in his bed, sweat pouring down as his face as he looks around his bedroom.
Hank Brown: Dear god...no.
The scene fades out as a visibly shaken Hank Brown picks up a pillow from beside him and clutches it to his chest.
- - - - - - -
The scene opens up inside of the bedroom of Jay Price as he sits propped up against the headboard of his bed, Shannan laying with her head on his chest fast asleep, as he stares ahead at the wall. His phone vibrates on the nightstand next to him, the sound stirring Shannan but not waking her as she rolls onto her other side. Price picks the phone up, reads the message and then places it back onto the stand. Just another text from one of his former This_Is_War partners congratulating him on the destruction of the WCF Arena. A little bit of a smile comes over his face as he thinks about it. He then looks over toward the clock on the wall, sees it's only three in the morning, and the smile fades.
Fucking insomnia.
He tries to think back to the last time he actually got a good nights sleep but his mind draws a blank. He then looks over at Shannan, sleeping soundly.
Yeah that's right, rub it in you lucky bitch
Price pushes the blankets off of him and swings his legs off the bed and onto the cool wooden floors. He stretches his arms above his head, cracks his neck and takes one more look over at Shannan before he stands up and heads for the bathroom door. He flips on the light switch and is temporarily blinded by the bright lights that flash on. Once the spots fade away he walks toward the sink and opens up the medicine cabinet in front of him. A row of plastic orange bottles, each baring his name on the front, greets him like a small squad of soldiers ready for battle. He takes one from each bottle and pops them into his mouth before washing them down with a glass of water from the sink.
Shit, you'd think for how much I paid for these damn pills they'd taste a little bit better.
He then closes up the medicine cabinet and takes a minute to look at his reflection in the mirror. A bit of stubble and a pair of bloodshot eyes has him looking much older than his 24 years, but that's insomnia for you...one big ol' bitch on your looks. He turns on the warm water and splashes a little on his face before wiping it off with a hand towel. He hangs it back up, flips off the lights and quietly walks back into the bedroom. Shannan is up, most likely awakened by the sound of the running water, sleepily rubbing her eyes.
Shannan Lerch: Still can't sleep?
Jay Price: Nope. Why don't you go ahead and get back to sleep, I'm gonna head downstairs and go over some of that paperwork they sent me.
Shannan Lerch: Poor Jay. Poor...poor.....
Shannan's sentence trails off and is replaced by a light snoring as she drifts right back off into dream land. Price can only shake his head in disbelief as he turns and exits the bedroom. He heads down the stairs and into the kitchen where he flips on the lights. He takes a seat at the table and picks up a manila folder that has his name and address written across the front. He had avoided it earlier, knowing what was inside without even having to open it, despite Shannan's pestering to look. He tears open the end and pulls out the stack of forms from inside, each proudly baring the green WCF logo at the top. He reads over them, signs where a signature is needed, and then slides them back into the envelope. He leans back in the chair, arms crossed behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling fan above him.
These times....they sure are changing.
The scene fades out as Price continues to stare up at the fan.
- - - - - - -
The scene fades back in, later on in the same day, with a shot of Hank Brown standing outside of a coffee shop in downtown Philadelphia. He looks down at his watch to check the time and then looks back up in time to see Price rounding the corner headed toward him. The two men shake hands and then walk into the shop. As they wait in line Hank gives the cameraman the signal to start filming.
Hank Brown: It's been a while, how you been?
Jay Price: As good as ever.
Hank Brown: Really? Because you look like shit.
Jay Price: Just a little bit of lost sleep, nothing major. Speaking of which, you look a little worn out yourself. Up late with the ol' fleshlight again?
Hank lets out a sarcastic laugh as he takes his order from the barista. Price grabs his also and the two head for a nearby booth.
Hank Brown: So do I even want to know what the hell was going through your mind when you decided to drive a Humvee through the arena and then take out half of our staff? I mean please, tell me you were drunk or something so that I don't have to believe that you're just that fucked up in the head.
A mother in the booth behind Hank lets out an annoyed grunt and covers up the ears of her son sitting beside her. She then hurriedly pushes him out of the booth and away from the two.
Jay Price: I figured if I was going to show up on Slam I might as well do it in style. And what's more stylish than driving a fucking Humvee through the arena, into the ring and crowd and then dropping that annoying, hot air filled Zach Davis through a table. I mean really, you tell me something more impressive and I'll call you a liar.
Hank Brown: I didn't say it wasn't impressive, but it was incredibly crazy. Not to mention careless, reckless and downright stupid. I mean honestly Jay, you could have hurt somebody.
Jay Price: Aww quit being such a damn spoil sport Hank. Shit, I remember a time when you were actually fun to be around. In fact, I remember a time that me and you went down to Mexico and I bought you a hooker. What was her name? Julio?
Hank Brown: Hey, you said you'd never mention that trip again.
Price grins as Hank downs half of his coffee and then looks around nervously.
Jay Price: Relax Hank, I'm just messing with you. Look, maybe it wasn't the smartest stunt to pull but it got the exact reaction that I was looking for. People were shocked and astonished at first, and then they couldn't stop talking about it. And all of that talk generated a lot of interest in yours truly once again, which in turn ended with a spot back on the WCF roster.
Hank Brown: Couldn't you have just asked for your job back?
Jay Price: Now where's the originality in that?
Hank Brown: Touche. So now what are you going to do about the Logan situation. It seemed like most of what you said on Slam had to do with the battle you two have been fighting, but now it looks like Logan is gone. So what's next?
Jay Price: That's a damn good question Hank, and to be honest I wish I had an answer for you. I planned on coming back and picking things up with Logan where we last left off, but if he's really decided to pack it up and leave for good then who knows. I guess the only thing that I can do is look ahead to whatever the powers at be put in front of me.
Hank Brown: Well what they've put in front of you this week is a pair of newcomers that picked up some impressive wins last week. Add to that the fact that the winner of your match goes on to be part of the main event at Ultimate Showdown and you've got something interesting to look forward to.
Jay Price: Oh Hank, how I truly envy your optimism. I wish I could look at this match and see something interesting, but when I look at it all I see is one big disappointment for the fans when they have to watch as the man they hate oh so dearly has his arm raised in victory.
Price mockingly raises his arm in the air to give Hank the visual.
Jay Price: Because you can throw any label you wish on this match, be it Winners Bracket and Price...or A Pair Of Jobbers Bracket and Price...or, my own personnel favorite, Yet Another Pair Of Sheep Set For Slaughter And Price...but no matter the label the fact is that end result will always be the same. I mean yes, I've been out of the ring for over two months and these two are coming fresh off victories. But for the love of god Hank, we're talking about me, Jay Fucking Price, against another random set of tits for the guys in the audience to fawn over and some Texan who likes to call himself "Magnificent". Well I don't know about you Hank, but last I heard only two things come from Texas: Steers and Queers. And I've never once heard of a steer that can talk.
Hank clears his throat as he looks over toward the couple sitting at a nearby table. They both shoot Hank a dirty look and then resume their conversation.
Hank Brown: Jay I really don't think you can say que...
Jay Price: Shut it Brown. You know better than anyone I will say whatever the fuck I want. And unlike Morris, I will drop your ass if you get in my face and try to tell me what I can and cannot say.
The serious look on Price's face is enough to cause Hank to move on with the interview.
Hank Brown: Well as I'm sure that you have heard the comments that Russell made toward you, would you care to respond?
Jay Price: It was...cute. I'll give him kudos for using the word mongoloid, defiantly never remember being called that one before. But as for everything else, I really don't know if a response is necessary. I mean anything I could say about the guy would pale in comparison to the embarrassment he's already brought about himself with what can only be described as a speech you'd expect your drunk, senile grandfather to make. But if you insist on a sound byte for the interview...
Price sighs and takes a sip of his coffee before continuing.
Jay Price: I think it's absolutely hilarious that someone who claims to have been with a silver spoon between his lips speaks with the same coherence as a middle school student who's mind has been melted away by the effects of over texting and way too much time on the internet. And what's more, using juvenile humor as means for trying to insult me? No, Russle is merely doing my job for me and insulting himself. And as for planning on wrecking my comeback, Russle would probably benefit more from planning on how he's going to get his next paycheck after I remind the WCF brass what real talent actually looks like.
Hank Brown: And what are your thoughts on Aubrey Summers?
Jay Price: Well she's got one hell of a set of ti..
Hank Brown: I meant your thoughts on her recent in-ring performances Jay.
Jay Price: I won't lie to you Hank, I've been surprisingly impressed with Ms. Summers. Taking out five guys in one match, including Steve Thunder and Mr. FPV, not too shabby at all. But that's the in-ring stuff. Her behavior outside of the ring though is a different story.
Hank Brown: Care to elaborate.
Jay Price: No good can come from associating with a man that was sprung from Logan's seed.
Hank Brown: I take it you're referring to the relationship between Aubrey and your neph..
Jay reaches across the table and knocks Hank's coffee onto his lap. Hank jumps up from his chair and begins frantically brushing the hot liquid from his crotch.
Jay Price: Never again call that thing my nephew. It's bad enough that I have to deal with the fact that Logan is my brother...
Price shudders at the mere thought.
Jay Price: ...but I will never recognize that spawn of Logan as a member of my family. As for Aubrey and her relationship with Speede, I don't see it and I pity her poor family when they finally meet him, but if that's the type of people she chooses to associate herself with then so be it.
Price pauses as the cell phone in his pocket rings. He pulls it out and answers as Hank continues to wipe the coffee off of his pants. He sits back down just as Price is finishing up his call.
Jay Price: All right, we have to wrap this up now because I've got shit to do before my flight. So unless you've got anymore questions...
Hank checks his note cards and then shakes his head no.
Jay Price:...well then as always it's been fun.
Price gets up and walks off as the scene fades out.
