Post by Kurt Burton: Script Doctor! on Jan 10, 2007 19:58:59 GMT -5
The wind howls around the corners of a Victorian home. The backyard of this home is bordering a forest, where all the leaves of every tree has fallen to the ground. The leaves lay on the ground, a wet mush of decaying brown. Through this forest, a man walks. His hair a pale white, he wears a long brown trenchcoat that blends in seamlessly to the background. His face is illuminated only by the soft glow of his cigarette. The smoke rises around him, and you would think him to be invisible. But above him, in the second story of this Victorian home, another man, dressed in a long leather trenchcoat, with green hair stares down. He hugs the edge of the window, peering out from behind a worn out purple curtain.
The room itself is contradictory to the house. On the walls hangs posters for Slayer, and Megadeth, and Disturbed. In the center of the room, in a frame, sits a poster for the band Xtreme Karnage, a tour poster from the Ozfest booking that sadly, never happened. To the side of it, sitting in Shadowbox frames, are Replica title belts. The CSWA World Title, the CSWA Tag, the NWF Hardcore, the WFWF Orgy title, and the PWS Mayhem title.
The furnishings of the room are sparse to say the least. Only the decorative posters have been placed on the wall. An empty bookcase stands on the opposite side of the window, and a few unopened boxes lay on the floor.
The door to the room swings open. Kurt turns, to see Kat, carrying a small cardboard box. She immediately kicks the door shut behind her.
Kat: Aren’t you glad to be out of that crappy little apartment in the ghetto. God, with my great investment skills, and Thunder’s genorisity in covering the Revolution’s traveling expenses, you can actually have a life.
Kurt steps forward, and places his hand on Kat’s shoulder.
Kurt: Kat, I don’t want to scare you, but he’s back.
Kat: Who?
Kurt does not reply, but instead points out the window. Kat moves to the window, and lays eyes upon a familiar face. Her reaction is not of fear or terror, but rather confusion.
Kat: That guy again? You think he would have learned his lesson, after his last ass beating.
Kurt: Well, he’ll learn his lesson this time.
Kat: Kurt, don’t fight my stalker… again. You’ve kicked his ass how many times?
Kurt: Countless.
Kat: And broken how many of his bones?
Kurt: At least five.
Kat: And he just keeps coming back. I mean, he must be the dumbest stalker ever. Plus, he’s never given any sign of violence. Let’s just call the cops.
Kurt’s face turns white.
Kurt: The cop’s… with all this bahama mama I just bought sitting in this house. Girl, you have lost your damn mind!
Kat turns away. Kurt moves to put his arm around her.
Kurt: Look, it’s alright, relax. See, I’m not going to do anything dangerous. But I have a friend that has been dying to meet this f***.
Kurt opens his coat, pointing to the lead pipe sitting in his inside pocket. Kat opens her mouth to protest.
Kurt: Not a word baby, go ahead… Hit the shower, and I’ll be back soon enough.
He shoos her out of the room. He looks back to the window. He stares down at the man, who is still looking towards the first floor window, completely ignorant of Kurt.
Kurt: You know Calvin, it’s nothing personal. What I’m about to do to you on Felo De Se, it’s natural, and unstoppable, just like what I’m about to do to that man out there. See, you both want the same thing… Greatness. Kat is greatness personified. Beautiful, smart, athletic, and an incredibly caring person, she is the total package. And that man, he wants her, he covets her. Much like you covet me, and want my ability. You want my success, just like he wants her, and don’t deny it Calvin. You’ve done nothing, since you got here, long before me, other than join with two men, and anointed them with your seed. Me however, my debut, I won that…
Kurt points to the Orgy Replica.
Kurt: And on only my third PPV, was granted the opportunity of going for the world title. You, worked your tail to the bone, never reaching my level of success. I drew one of the toughest SOB’s ever in the history of this fed… while you, you drew Obo the homo. Sad, isn’t it. You got your ass kicked by a pathetic loser, much like yourself, while I went toe to toe with a fellow wrestling god. But I digress. See, my friend has a date, and he’s late.
Kurt reaches into his pocket and produces the pipe.
The room itself is contradictory to the house. On the walls hangs posters for Slayer, and Megadeth, and Disturbed. In the center of the room, in a frame, sits a poster for the band Xtreme Karnage, a tour poster from the Ozfest booking that sadly, never happened. To the side of it, sitting in Shadowbox frames, are Replica title belts. The CSWA World Title, the CSWA Tag, the NWF Hardcore, the WFWF Orgy title, and the PWS Mayhem title.
The furnishings of the room are sparse to say the least. Only the decorative posters have been placed on the wall. An empty bookcase stands on the opposite side of the window, and a few unopened boxes lay on the floor.
The door to the room swings open. Kurt turns, to see Kat, carrying a small cardboard box. She immediately kicks the door shut behind her.
Kat: Aren’t you glad to be out of that crappy little apartment in the ghetto. God, with my great investment skills, and Thunder’s genorisity in covering the Revolution’s traveling expenses, you can actually have a life.
Kurt steps forward, and places his hand on Kat’s shoulder.
Kurt: Kat, I don’t want to scare you, but he’s back.
Kat: Who?
Kurt does not reply, but instead points out the window. Kat moves to the window, and lays eyes upon a familiar face. Her reaction is not of fear or terror, but rather confusion.
Kat: That guy again? You think he would have learned his lesson, after his last ass beating.
Kurt: Well, he’ll learn his lesson this time.
Kat: Kurt, don’t fight my stalker… again. You’ve kicked his ass how many times?
Kurt: Countless.
Kat: And broken how many of his bones?
Kurt: At least five.
Kat: And he just keeps coming back. I mean, he must be the dumbest stalker ever. Plus, he’s never given any sign of violence. Let’s just call the cops.
Kurt’s face turns white.
Kurt: The cop’s… with all this bahama mama I just bought sitting in this house. Girl, you have lost your damn mind!
Kat turns away. Kurt moves to put his arm around her.
Kurt: Look, it’s alright, relax. See, I’m not going to do anything dangerous. But I have a friend that has been dying to meet this f***.
Kurt opens his coat, pointing to the lead pipe sitting in his inside pocket. Kat opens her mouth to protest.
Kurt: Not a word baby, go ahead… Hit the shower, and I’ll be back soon enough.
He shoos her out of the room. He looks back to the window. He stares down at the man, who is still looking towards the first floor window, completely ignorant of Kurt.
Kurt: You know Calvin, it’s nothing personal. What I’m about to do to you on Felo De Se, it’s natural, and unstoppable, just like what I’m about to do to that man out there. See, you both want the same thing… Greatness. Kat is greatness personified. Beautiful, smart, athletic, and an incredibly caring person, she is the total package. And that man, he wants her, he covets her. Much like you covet me, and want my ability. You want my success, just like he wants her, and don’t deny it Calvin. You’ve done nothing, since you got here, long before me, other than join with two men, and anointed them with your seed. Me however, my debut, I won that…
Kurt points to the Orgy Replica.
Kurt: And on only my third PPV, was granted the opportunity of going for the world title. You, worked your tail to the bone, never reaching my level of success. I drew one of the toughest SOB’s ever in the history of this fed… while you, you drew Obo the homo. Sad, isn’t it. You got your ass kicked by a pathetic loser, much like yourself, while I went toe to toe with a fellow wrestling god. But I digress. See, my friend has a date, and he’s late.
Kurt reaches into his pocket and produces the pipe.
