Post by B-Radimus Prime on Nov 20, 2006 20:07:43 GMT -5
xX What I‘ve Never Had Xx
Dozens of young children scurry around a playground laughing, playing and enjoying their lives and the friends that are fortunate enough to be a part of it. Tow girls giggle with one another as they sway back and forth on a slightly rusted Swingset; looking at eachother every now and then to keep the same pace and height as the other. A group of children are rushing in all different directions around a red and blue curly slide from a little boy who is “it“ in their childish game of tag. A couple of young boys race eachother across separate sets of monkey bars. All of them are clearly having fun, but one little boy is missing out. He‘s hunched behind a small bush a few steps away from the park with his arms wrapped around his scrawny legs. His huge dark eyes that are sullen and glazed over with despair stare off in no particular direction. He speaks to himself in a soft, high-pitched voice while slightly rocking back and forth.
”My name is Morgan Warner and I am six years old. This is the playground I come to, to have fun and play with other kids. But do I look like I‘m having fun here? I’m sitting behind an old bush away from the park. Of course I‘m not having fun. Those kids don‘t like me…if they saw me here they‘d throw rocks at me and call me names like they usually do. They would tell me to go back home, or better yet, leave the face of the earth completely. They‘re the people I‘m here to have fun with, kids my age. They’re the friends I‘ll never have to create the fun that will never happen.”
The scene fades to a large dark room with colorful strobe lights flashing in every direction. Silver stars dangle from the ceiling above a huge crowd of teenagers dancing in formal attire. To the left of this dance floor is a long table covered with a silken black cloth that has food an a huge bowl of punch on it. A teenaged blonde boy is pouring his beautiful date a cup of the delicious punch. Young girls stare into the lustful eyes of their boyfriends as their bodies connect for the slow song playing over head. Every young person’s mind and hormones are on high, as they wonder what special or tragic events could transpire later in the evening. Romance is in the air and everyone feels free and truly happy. Happy, except for one boy who lingers in the shadows watching the beautiful girls who‘s hair he spits gum in during classes at school, and the handsome young men who have become the objects of his desire in very awkward dreams lately. The boy has a chaos of dark spikes for hair and his huge brown eyes seem apathetic as he watches the couples before him. Just like the little boy before, he speaks to himself with a lower voice that still holds boyish squeaks.
”My name is Morgan Warner and I am sixteen years old. This is some important school dance that for some reason I attended. I came dateless, obviously, because who wants to show up with the resident fag? Those are all the gorgeous girls I go to school with. They usually sit in classes telling eachother how insanely happy their boyfriends make them by winning them teddy bears at the Fair and telling them how good they look, even if they‘re stomach hangs over their too tight pants or their legs aren‘t as smoothly shaven as they would prefer. The boys on the other hand talk about how increasingly annoying their girl is becoming. Even with all the gifts and bland compliments, the girls still aren‘t giving up what the boys have been after all along. It‘s true their lives lack any romance, but they‘re too completely stupid to know that. I have no one and they love to taunt me with that fact. I‘ve never heard a compassionate compliment from anyone, never felt the loving touch of another, never had any kind of romance in my life whatsoever.”
Again, the scene fades away, this time returning to a television which plays various clips of a raven-haired woman know to the world and WFWF as Meg Warner. There are clips of her attacking a beautiful blonde woman and the gloomy times that lead to her Grandmother‘s death. There are even clips of her discussion with those strange eggs and a different side of the woman as she flirts with, then enters the office of a former WFWF Owner. A deeper voice is heard while these clips continue playing.
”Ah, Meg. She‘s a fighter, a psycho, a slut, and last but not least - a sister. Out of all these ways to describe the beautiful woman, sister is the last word that would come to mind. She battled with many women and men in her day and even won a couple of times - that made her a fighter. She talked to eggs at one point in her life, they helped her feel close to something pretending they were humans - that made her a psycho. As this industry was being destroyed by a couple of ignorant lowlifes, she made sure she got to the top by getting on top of Michael Kyzer - that makes her a slut. A desperate one.
Now, as far as being a sister…that‘s almost debatable. Sure, she and myself share the same birth mother…and probably father, but when has she shown any concern or compassion or guilt for not being there for me? Never. She was too worried about herself and reminding the world of her deplorable actions with a drug addict. She was the sister I never had and the bitch I came to hate.”
As the TV is shown at it‘s entirety, so are the surroundings. Directly beside the TV is the present day Morgan Warner. He wears a tight black shirt with pink lettering which reads “Jack Off Jill“, and baggy black pants with various chains dangling from the pockets. He stands in front of a wrestling ring which lies within an empty arena. He pats the mat with a half smile on his face.
”I am Morgan Warner and this is the Wrestling Ring which I‘ll compete in against Wayne McGurk for the WFWF International Championship. I‘ve had very little success in the ring in my short career in the WFWF. I‘ve had nothing to feel proud of yet, but that will change. I‘m forgetting about all of my losses in the ring and in life and making this, the WFWF International Championship, my first gain…my first positive in life. My first real thing to feel proud of. Wayne McGurk, it‘s your turn to feel the loss when the International title gets Morgalicious.”
With view pulls away from Morgan before the scene completely fades to black.
Dozens of young children scurry around a playground laughing, playing and enjoying their lives and the friends that are fortunate enough to be a part of it. Tow girls giggle with one another as they sway back and forth on a slightly rusted Swingset; looking at eachother every now and then to keep the same pace and height as the other. A group of children are rushing in all different directions around a red and blue curly slide from a little boy who is “it“ in their childish game of tag. A couple of young boys race eachother across separate sets of monkey bars. All of them are clearly having fun, but one little boy is missing out. He‘s hunched behind a small bush a few steps away from the park with his arms wrapped around his scrawny legs. His huge dark eyes that are sullen and glazed over with despair stare off in no particular direction. He speaks to himself in a soft, high-pitched voice while slightly rocking back and forth.
”My name is Morgan Warner and I am six years old. This is the playground I come to, to have fun and play with other kids. But do I look like I‘m having fun here? I’m sitting behind an old bush away from the park. Of course I‘m not having fun. Those kids don‘t like me…if they saw me here they‘d throw rocks at me and call me names like they usually do. They would tell me to go back home, or better yet, leave the face of the earth completely. They‘re the people I‘m here to have fun with, kids my age. They’re the friends I‘ll never have to create the fun that will never happen.”
The scene fades to a large dark room with colorful strobe lights flashing in every direction. Silver stars dangle from the ceiling above a huge crowd of teenagers dancing in formal attire. To the left of this dance floor is a long table covered with a silken black cloth that has food an a huge bowl of punch on it. A teenaged blonde boy is pouring his beautiful date a cup of the delicious punch. Young girls stare into the lustful eyes of their boyfriends as their bodies connect for the slow song playing over head. Every young person’s mind and hormones are on high, as they wonder what special or tragic events could transpire later in the evening. Romance is in the air and everyone feels free and truly happy. Happy, except for one boy who lingers in the shadows watching the beautiful girls who‘s hair he spits gum in during classes at school, and the handsome young men who have become the objects of his desire in very awkward dreams lately. The boy has a chaos of dark spikes for hair and his huge brown eyes seem apathetic as he watches the couples before him. Just like the little boy before, he speaks to himself with a lower voice that still holds boyish squeaks.
”My name is Morgan Warner and I am sixteen years old. This is some important school dance that for some reason I attended. I came dateless, obviously, because who wants to show up with the resident fag? Those are all the gorgeous girls I go to school with. They usually sit in classes telling eachother how insanely happy their boyfriends make them by winning them teddy bears at the Fair and telling them how good they look, even if they‘re stomach hangs over their too tight pants or their legs aren‘t as smoothly shaven as they would prefer. The boys on the other hand talk about how increasingly annoying their girl is becoming. Even with all the gifts and bland compliments, the girls still aren‘t giving up what the boys have been after all along. It‘s true their lives lack any romance, but they‘re too completely stupid to know that. I have no one and they love to taunt me with that fact. I‘ve never heard a compassionate compliment from anyone, never felt the loving touch of another, never had any kind of romance in my life whatsoever.”
Again, the scene fades away, this time returning to a television which plays various clips of a raven-haired woman know to the world and WFWF as Meg Warner. There are clips of her attacking a beautiful blonde woman and the gloomy times that lead to her Grandmother‘s death. There are even clips of her discussion with those strange eggs and a different side of the woman as she flirts with, then enters the office of a former WFWF Owner. A deeper voice is heard while these clips continue playing.
”Ah, Meg. She‘s a fighter, a psycho, a slut, and last but not least - a sister. Out of all these ways to describe the beautiful woman, sister is the last word that would come to mind. She battled with many women and men in her day and even won a couple of times - that made her a fighter. She talked to eggs at one point in her life, they helped her feel close to something pretending they were humans - that made her a psycho. As this industry was being destroyed by a couple of ignorant lowlifes, she made sure she got to the top by getting on top of Michael Kyzer - that makes her a slut. A desperate one.
Now, as far as being a sister…that‘s almost debatable. Sure, she and myself share the same birth mother…and probably father, but when has she shown any concern or compassion or guilt for not being there for me? Never. She was too worried about herself and reminding the world of her deplorable actions with a drug addict. She was the sister I never had and the bitch I came to hate.”
As the TV is shown at it‘s entirety, so are the surroundings. Directly beside the TV is the present day Morgan Warner. He wears a tight black shirt with pink lettering which reads “Jack Off Jill“, and baggy black pants with various chains dangling from the pockets. He stands in front of a wrestling ring which lies within an empty arena. He pats the mat with a half smile on his face.
”I am Morgan Warner and this is the Wrestling Ring which I‘ll compete in against Wayne McGurk for the WFWF International Championship. I‘ve had very little success in the ring in my short career in the WFWF. I‘ve had nothing to feel proud of yet, but that will change. I‘m forgetting about all of my losses in the ring and in life and making this, the WFWF International Championship, my first gain…my first positive in life. My first real thing to feel proud of. Wayne McGurk, it‘s your turn to feel the loss when the International title gets Morgalicious.”
With view pulls away from Morgan before the scene completely fades to black.
