Post by cureforthesickness on Jul 21, 2006 11:01:31 GMT -5
A shaky camera in front of a brick wall. This is the first scene we see when we come into the shot. The lighting in the area is quite poor. The wall has an ugly dimness on it, while still having a glare from the slight bit of light. We look at the brick wall for a long while, getting an amazing look at the plain brick wall. The upper bricks of the wall are cracked and warn, a thick layer of dust resting inside each of the crevasses of the bricks. On the lower levels of the wall is various marker vandalism from local teenagers. Everything from the fling of the month is the love for my life to this person smells, everyone finds the need to express their opinion on the world on this wall with a Sharpie. Like a plague, the writing flocks to this wall and gathers up into a huge bunch. Looking still at the ground level of the wall, our vision is now clouded by a pair of scuffed shoes. The shoes seem like they were never extremely expensive to start with, but have gone through a hellacious beating. The ends of the shoes are very bashed up, featuring various levels of scratches and scuffs. Panning up slightly we see the lace track of the shoes, rusted and stained from months of wear and tear. The holders for each lace has rust around it and is bent inwards, seemingly stretched by the shoe lace being far too tight. The tongues of the shoes, where padding for the bridge of the foot should lie, is just straight fabric. The padding has long warn away from the shoes and the fabric tongue of the shoe hangs loosely. Panning upwards we see a pair of dull white socks. They are stained with various degrees of blood and mud, the elastic of the socks is very stretched, causing the socks to fit loosely around the ankles of our figure. Panning upwards further we see the ends of a pair of cut off jeans, strings hanging in no particular fashion down below the knee. Panning even further upwards we see the rest of the jean shorts, stained with various chemicals and other debris. We scan even further up the figure to see a faded black t-shirt featuring the logo of WFWF Survival of the Fittest. Scanning further upwards we see the face of Obo. Bandaged up from his war on Odium, Obo looks very unamused by everything that is going on around him. His expression is one that is painted on, showing no emotion at all. He begins to speak with the usual roughness of his voice.
Obo: WFWF fans. It is I, the true savior of this downward spiral of a company. The Anti-Christ and the King of Gore, Obo. Bringing you a message of disorder and unruliness. Bringing you a message of anarchy and dysfunction. Standing here in front of this wall, broken down and degraded. It makes me think. It makes me think about what the f~ck is going on. A couple of stoned f~cks are running the joint, or smoking it, or something like that. Renaming all the titles to things of their liking. Orgy titles, Intergalactic Spaceman title, Ham Shank title.. Letting the superstars rename their titles to whatever they please. It makes me wonder why the f~ck I haven’t jumped off this sinking ship yet. It makes me wonder why I haven’t tossed down this worthless and pointless piece of sh~t championship, spit on it, grind my f~cking shoe over it, and spitting in the face of those two stoned f~cks Kyzer and Drakz. Why the f~ck am I being put into this bizarre situations? First, I’m paired with a slut who f~cked her way across the country and ended up on the bad side of the sh~t faced owners over a goldfish or something. But now, now I am paired with some intellectually- disabled giant who’s so f~cking ugly he hides his face with a mask. The so called legend Zmaster. F~ck Zmaster. You’re nothing more than an over rated sack of sh~t and if you get in my way on Odium, I’ll knock you on your big fat f~cking ass just as quick as I will my opponents. You’re an obstacle in my opinion. You’re on the same level as Tha CBT. A worthless piece of sh~t who breaths my air. CBT, I thought I taught you a lesson already, when I ripped you limb from limb in that barbed wire cage. I thought you’d be smart enough not to come back after the f~cking Anti-Christ after I left you a messy pool of crimson inside of that cage. But CBT, like a plauge, you always seem to find your way back to me. This week, you find your way back to me in the form of a tag team match. You pathetic worthless piece of sh~t. You’ll be lucky if I don’t f~cking kill you. You don’t f~ck with me bitch, or you will f~cking die.
At this little musing, Obo lets out a laugh. It is not a laugh of joy though, but a laugh of pure evil. A laugh you’d see in a horror movie, just before the murderer went on a killing spree. The laugh you’d see in an insane asylum. The visably unstable Obo has a glow in his eyes. He seems to be almost possessed. His body twitches slightly, his arm banging against the solid brick wall that stands behind him.
Obo: In a land of bitches, whores, and c~nts, there is one bigger than all others. His name is Calvin Lee, a claimed member of the Anointed, but he is but a mere mortal who wishes immortality. Calvin Lee, you are a pathetic, worthless piece of sh~t. Every time you and I have been scheduled to face off, you mysteriously get “injured”. I call bullsh~t Calvin. You fear me. You fear what I can do. You fear the power the rests inside of these hands. You fear what you do not understand. Calvin, like the virgin you are, I will make you bleed. I will destroy your body in the same way I have reeked havoc on your mind. I will end your mortality. You are but a mere stepping stone for me. A notch in the belt. Calvin Lee, you need to get on the phone to whoever the f~ck is in charge of your little group, call in all the back up your can get, because Calvin, the end of days is coming and you will be the first the One Man Apocalypse destroys.
Obo lets out another one of his scary laughs as we lose the shot
Obo: WFWF fans. It is I, the true savior of this downward spiral of a company. The Anti-Christ and the King of Gore, Obo. Bringing you a message of disorder and unruliness. Bringing you a message of anarchy and dysfunction. Standing here in front of this wall, broken down and degraded. It makes me think. It makes me think about what the f~ck is going on. A couple of stoned f~cks are running the joint, or smoking it, or something like that. Renaming all the titles to things of their liking. Orgy titles, Intergalactic Spaceman title, Ham Shank title.. Letting the superstars rename their titles to whatever they please. It makes me wonder why the f~ck I haven’t jumped off this sinking ship yet. It makes me wonder why I haven’t tossed down this worthless and pointless piece of sh~t championship, spit on it, grind my f~cking shoe over it, and spitting in the face of those two stoned f~cks Kyzer and Drakz. Why the f~ck am I being put into this bizarre situations? First, I’m paired with a slut who f~cked her way across the country and ended up on the bad side of the sh~t faced owners over a goldfish or something. But now, now I am paired with some intellectually- disabled giant who’s so f~cking ugly he hides his face with a mask. The so called legend Zmaster. F~ck Zmaster. You’re nothing more than an over rated sack of sh~t and if you get in my way on Odium, I’ll knock you on your big fat f~cking ass just as quick as I will my opponents. You’re an obstacle in my opinion. You’re on the same level as Tha CBT. A worthless piece of sh~t who breaths my air. CBT, I thought I taught you a lesson already, when I ripped you limb from limb in that barbed wire cage. I thought you’d be smart enough not to come back after the f~cking Anti-Christ after I left you a messy pool of crimson inside of that cage. But CBT, like a plauge, you always seem to find your way back to me. This week, you find your way back to me in the form of a tag team match. You pathetic worthless piece of sh~t. You’ll be lucky if I don’t f~cking kill you. You don’t f~ck with me bitch, or you will f~cking die.
At this little musing, Obo lets out a laugh. It is not a laugh of joy though, but a laugh of pure evil. A laugh you’d see in a horror movie, just before the murderer went on a killing spree. The laugh you’d see in an insane asylum. The visably unstable Obo has a glow in his eyes. He seems to be almost possessed. His body twitches slightly, his arm banging against the solid brick wall that stands behind him.
Obo: In a land of bitches, whores, and c~nts, there is one bigger than all others. His name is Calvin Lee, a claimed member of the Anointed, but he is but a mere mortal who wishes immortality. Calvin Lee, you are a pathetic, worthless piece of sh~t. Every time you and I have been scheduled to face off, you mysteriously get “injured”. I call bullsh~t Calvin. You fear me. You fear what I can do. You fear the power the rests inside of these hands. You fear what you do not understand. Calvin, like the virgin you are, I will make you bleed. I will destroy your body in the same way I have reeked havoc on your mind. I will end your mortality. You are but a mere stepping stone for me. A notch in the belt. Calvin Lee, you need to get on the phone to whoever the f~ck is in charge of your little group, call in all the back up your can get, because Calvin, the end of days is coming and you will be the first the One Man Apocalypse destroys.
Obo lets out another one of his scary laughs as we lose the shot
