Post by cureforthesickness on Aug 10, 2006 20:26:27 GMT -5
Chained. Caged like an animal. A rapid animal. Capable of tearing apart flesh and destroying bones. I suppose it is suitable, for the fact that those are two of my favorite hobbies. Creating an open wound, tearing the flesh back and watching the crimson pour out. It’s a thrill like no other. It’s a thrill that I live by. It’s a thrill beyond description. I hold in my hands the life of another human. It makes me feel good. Playing God. F~ck parting the red sea, I create one. But this crucifixion business sounds like fun.
A poorly light building is the first thing we see. The walls are coated in a thick layer of dust, apparently having been neglected of cleaning for many months, if not years. In the far background looms a scaffolding, looking very unstable. The scaffolding appears to be very rickety, to such a degree that it appears the smallest of child could push it over. The steel bars of the scaffolding are coated in a thick layer of brown and peeling rust, the wooden flooring of the scaffold sitting awkwardly. The wood appears very rotten from various moistures. Panning further away, we see a huge pile of cardboard. This pile of cardboard used to be boxes, but they are no longer in box form. All of the boxes have been busted down. Some of the boxes have been torn in half or more. The mat of cardboard lays idol. Far in the back of this room that we now know as an abandoned warehouse we see a chain link fence. The fence is a standard diamond style fence, but many of the sections of the fence have been damaged. The entire fence has a layer of rust over it, coating both the fence and the bars that support it. Various bits and pieces of the fence have been broken, the links shattered. It appears this fence has taken some brute and deliberate force. We pan up the fence and we see bits of torn cloth and dried blood. It appears someone has been attempting to climb the fence, but their clothing and body prevented them from making it all the way up. Panning further up the fencing, we see dangling chains. The chains are about five feet apart from each other and dangle extremely loosely as if they have little to no stress on them. Panning upwards further, we see a set of feet. The feet dangle, apparently floating in mid air. The shoes are scuffed heavily, apparently having gone through many days and nights. The leather is worn and stained, several bits of the leather darker than other bits, from various moistures and sweat that have leaked and soiled the leather. Sox are the next thing we see, ruffled and stretched to such a degree that they hang loosely around the frame of the ankles. We now see a pair of baggy black jeans. The ends are frayed and torn from being too long over the frame of the body they rest on. The shirt that lays on this body is a faded black tone, showing minor holes from every day wear and tear. Looking further upwards we see a thick metal chain. The chain’s links are about an inch thick, showing the chain was made to hold up incredible amounts of weight and take on tremendous loads. Looking upwards we see arms out stretched, connected to the ends of the tight chains. The chains are wrapped around the wrists of the out stretched arms, connecting the arms to the damaged metal fence. Panning up, we see why we are here, we see “The King of Gore” Obo. Obo has a glazed over look on his face but seems utterly content hanging from the fence. His bangs come down over his eyes and his face has a particularly gruff look to it, lacking common maintenances like shaving for apparently several days. He begins to speak, his facial features showing a quick change in emotion as the words flow off his tongue.
Obo: F~ck. F~ck all this sh~t. I lay my f~cking body on the line for these hypocrite sons of a bitches and what do they do, they spit on me. The dirty f~ck turn everything I do against me. I can do no right. I am the ultimate, but not in a positive way. It seems everything I do enriches the evil of the world. Every time I step between the ropes, a person comes down with cancer. Every time I do a move off the top rope, a baby dies. Every god damn time I bled, a war starts. Everything is my f~cking fault. I am the evil that festers beneath the skin of society. I am the one who sits at a computer desk and types the venom that appears in current press. I am the one who creates international conflict. I am the one who causes people to hate. I am the one who creates death. It’s all f~cking me. F~ck the critics. They feel the need to verbally crucify me. Verbalization is completely over rated. If these suits felt the need to crucify me so, they should have. They should have beat me half to death with a pipe, drugged me and pulled me to the top of a large hill where they attached me to a large wooden cross with nails through my hands. But these critics are too shady and underhanded to confront me face to face. These critics are too scheming to tell me what they believe is the truth. These “humans” would rather trick me with deceit and malice. I show no pity for these individuals when their darkest day comes. And for some persons, this depressing spiral is coming soon.
Obo’s face turns from an angered and frustrated face to an almost dastardly grin. Something going through this man’s mind has turned his day around, but this enigma reveals nothing with his body language.
Obo: The virgin sacrifice comes soon. Why.. Why would someone try to confront their fears? Why would someone willingly step into a steel hell with me, when they have previously revealed that they are too afraid of the same structure. It does not make sense. Calvin Lee. After seeing what I did to Tha CBT last month in the steel cage, why would you want to enter a cage with me? Why would you want to enter my playground? Perhaps you are trying to play some sort of mind game with me, but by getting into my head, you only create a short coming for yourself. My mind is a dangerous thing, something that I myself do not even know the true power of my mind. But Calvin Lee, you seem to be running on a similar track that I am. By requesting a steel cage match, you showed a comparable characteristic that I have been showing for far too long. You showed the need to self destruct. You showed the need to destroy yourself and all that you could possibly accomplish. You showed raw emotion and let it consume you to such a degree that your mind became mush. This is where you and I are different Calvin. This is where your feeble mind cannot compare to mine. I know my limits, yet I push them. You seem to not understand your own limits. You seem to not quite get what your body is capable of. I believe there is a word for what you think of yourself compared to what you really are. Overrated. You overrate yourself and lead yourself to a fatal finish. And this, Calvin, lies your problem. This is the route of your self destruction. But you are too late to stop the bomb from exploding. The timer has already come to 0:00 and the fuse has expired. The bomb is set to explode. Are you ready for the explosion you have created?
Obo’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he seems to go deep into thought. He seems to be fighting a war inside of his head, attempting to drown the demons but the demons will not stay down. The demons want to take over and he seems all too ready to let them.
Obo: Some do not take a slow path to the top. Some do not choose to take the slow and gradual road, earning everything that is given to them. Some instead choose to take the quickest road to the top of the pyramid, some took the quick route to the top. This man is Wayne McGurk. He propelled himself to my level by pawning his whore wife off on Drakz and Kyzer for a quick happy and some doggy style. His f~cking crackwhore wife bent over and grabbed her ankles and Wayne got a title shot. Wayne, I remember not long ago, when I was winning championships, you were still in the opening match. In a pointless match. In a match that meant nothing at all on the card. All of a sudden, because you are “aligned” with the owner, you get a title shot? I think the only thing aligned here is your wife’s c~nt with Kyzer’s balls. F~ck you Wayne McGurk. You’re gonna die mother f~cker. You’ve skyrocketed to the top of the mountain, now prepare to get knocked the f~ck back down. You aren’t at my level. You are below me. You have shown your true side. You have shown that your soul is invaluable to you, and by the time I am done with you, your body will be of the same value. Prepare your will and tell your loved ones your final goodbyes, because after you step into that steel cage, your life as you know it will end.
The lights in the building begin to flicker. The camera pans high upwards to see a series of fluorescent light tube fixtures, and one is swaying. With a quick pop, the entire room goes black. We hear a crash as the lighting fixture crashes to the solid cement floor, followed by a demented cackle from Obo.
(fade out)
A poorly light building is the first thing we see. The walls are coated in a thick layer of dust, apparently having been neglected of cleaning for many months, if not years. In the far background looms a scaffolding, looking very unstable. The scaffolding appears to be very rickety, to such a degree that it appears the smallest of child could push it over. The steel bars of the scaffolding are coated in a thick layer of brown and peeling rust, the wooden flooring of the scaffold sitting awkwardly. The wood appears very rotten from various moistures. Panning further away, we see a huge pile of cardboard. This pile of cardboard used to be boxes, but they are no longer in box form. All of the boxes have been busted down. Some of the boxes have been torn in half or more. The mat of cardboard lays idol. Far in the back of this room that we now know as an abandoned warehouse we see a chain link fence. The fence is a standard diamond style fence, but many of the sections of the fence have been damaged. The entire fence has a layer of rust over it, coating both the fence and the bars that support it. Various bits and pieces of the fence have been broken, the links shattered. It appears this fence has taken some brute and deliberate force. We pan up the fence and we see bits of torn cloth and dried blood. It appears someone has been attempting to climb the fence, but their clothing and body prevented them from making it all the way up. Panning further up the fencing, we see dangling chains. The chains are about five feet apart from each other and dangle extremely loosely as if they have little to no stress on them. Panning upwards further, we see a set of feet. The feet dangle, apparently floating in mid air. The shoes are scuffed heavily, apparently having gone through many days and nights. The leather is worn and stained, several bits of the leather darker than other bits, from various moistures and sweat that have leaked and soiled the leather. Sox are the next thing we see, ruffled and stretched to such a degree that they hang loosely around the frame of the ankles. We now see a pair of baggy black jeans. The ends are frayed and torn from being too long over the frame of the body they rest on. The shirt that lays on this body is a faded black tone, showing minor holes from every day wear and tear. Looking further upwards we see a thick metal chain. The chain’s links are about an inch thick, showing the chain was made to hold up incredible amounts of weight and take on tremendous loads. Looking upwards we see arms out stretched, connected to the ends of the tight chains. The chains are wrapped around the wrists of the out stretched arms, connecting the arms to the damaged metal fence. Panning up, we see why we are here, we see “The King of Gore” Obo. Obo has a glazed over look on his face but seems utterly content hanging from the fence. His bangs come down over his eyes and his face has a particularly gruff look to it, lacking common maintenances like shaving for apparently several days. He begins to speak, his facial features showing a quick change in emotion as the words flow off his tongue.
Obo: F~ck. F~ck all this sh~t. I lay my f~cking body on the line for these hypocrite sons of a bitches and what do they do, they spit on me. The dirty f~ck turn everything I do against me. I can do no right. I am the ultimate, but not in a positive way. It seems everything I do enriches the evil of the world. Every time I step between the ropes, a person comes down with cancer. Every time I do a move off the top rope, a baby dies. Every god damn time I bled, a war starts. Everything is my f~cking fault. I am the evil that festers beneath the skin of society. I am the one who sits at a computer desk and types the venom that appears in current press. I am the one who creates international conflict. I am the one who causes people to hate. I am the one who creates death. It’s all f~cking me. F~ck the critics. They feel the need to verbally crucify me. Verbalization is completely over rated. If these suits felt the need to crucify me so, they should have. They should have beat me half to death with a pipe, drugged me and pulled me to the top of a large hill where they attached me to a large wooden cross with nails through my hands. But these critics are too shady and underhanded to confront me face to face. These critics are too scheming to tell me what they believe is the truth. These “humans” would rather trick me with deceit and malice. I show no pity for these individuals when their darkest day comes. And for some persons, this depressing spiral is coming soon.
Obo’s face turns from an angered and frustrated face to an almost dastardly grin. Something going through this man’s mind has turned his day around, but this enigma reveals nothing with his body language.
Obo: The virgin sacrifice comes soon. Why.. Why would someone try to confront their fears? Why would someone willingly step into a steel hell with me, when they have previously revealed that they are too afraid of the same structure. It does not make sense. Calvin Lee. After seeing what I did to Tha CBT last month in the steel cage, why would you want to enter a cage with me? Why would you want to enter my playground? Perhaps you are trying to play some sort of mind game with me, but by getting into my head, you only create a short coming for yourself. My mind is a dangerous thing, something that I myself do not even know the true power of my mind. But Calvin Lee, you seem to be running on a similar track that I am. By requesting a steel cage match, you showed a comparable characteristic that I have been showing for far too long. You showed the need to self destruct. You showed the need to destroy yourself and all that you could possibly accomplish. You showed raw emotion and let it consume you to such a degree that your mind became mush. This is where you and I are different Calvin. This is where your feeble mind cannot compare to mine. I know my limits, yet I push them. You seem to not understand your own limits. You seem to not quite get what your body is capable of. I believe there is a word for what you think of yourself compared to what you really are. Overrated. You overrate yourself and lead yourself to a fatal finish. And this, Calvin, lies your problem. This is the route of your self destruction. But you are too late to stop the bomb from exploding. The timer has already come to 0:00 and the fuse has expired. The bomb is set to explode. Are you ready for the explosion you have created?
Obo’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he seems to go deep into thought. He seems to be fighting a war inside of his head, attempting to drown the demons but the demons will not stay down. The demons want to take over and he seems all too ready to let them.
Obo: Some do not take a slow path to the top. Some do not choose to take the slow and gradual road, earning everything that is given to them. Some instead choose to take the quickest road to the top of the pyramid, some took the quick route to the top. This man is Wayne McGurk. He propelled himself to my level by pawning his whore wife off on Drakz and Kyzer for a quick happy and some doggy style. His f~cking crackwhore wife bent over and grabbed her ankles and Wayne got a title shot. Wayne, I remember not long ago, when I was winning championships, you were still in the opening match. In a pointless match. In a match that meant nothing at all on the card. All of a sudden, because you are “aligned” with the owner, you get a title shot? I think the only thing aligned here is your wife’s c~nt with Kyzer’s balls. F~ck you Wayne McGurk. You’re gonna die mother f~cker. You’ve skyrocketed to the top of the mountain, now prepare to get knocked the f~ck back down. You aren’t at my level. You are below me. You have shown your true side. You have shown that your soul is invaluable to you, and by the time I am done with you, your body will be of the same value. Prepare your will and tell your loved ones your final goodbyes, because after you step into that steel cage, your life as you know it will end.
The lights in the building begin to flicker. The camera pans high upwards to see a series of fluorescent light tube fixtures, and one is swaying. With a quick pop, the entire room goes black. We hear a crash as the lighting fixture crashes to the solid cement floor, followed by a demented cackle from Obo.
(fade out)
er. 
