Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2007 22:51:54 GMT -5
OOC - I wasn't where to post this, because I didn't see a try out thread. This isn't a permanent gimmick, but if people read it, could you tell me what you think? If people like it, and if free time allows, I'll look into using the gimmick in WFWF if allowed by those in charge.
The scene opens. The room is that of a normal living room, most likely of a person of well above average income. The fire roars in the background within the brick fire place, and the middle of the room, complete with bear skin rug, is a glass table. Seated at the table is a glass chair. Upon the chair sits a man. Well-combed, black hair and a short beard this man sports, along with a crimson red robe. He stares into the camera a moment, displaying seemingly no motion, simply smoking a pipe. As the smoke clears, the man places his pipe down and pauses.
Now, he speaks.
"It was a great 19th century political economist, revolutionary, and philosopher, Karl Marx was his name..."the father of communism," some call him, in his book Capital, that stated an item's value was only equal to the labor put into it. Gold is expensive, because much physical labor goes into attaining it. If there was an easier way to attain it, it simply wouldn't be worth as much.
I'm a man of much wealth. Not a simple man. In my fifty years, I've accumulated more money than most men see in their lifetimes.
I'm not like most wealthy men. I didn't work hard and invest in the best of stocks. I didn't work my way up the political ladder, gaining people's acceptance.
All I had to do, was put my eye on the prize...to put my eye on what I wanted, and to take away it's value. To minimize the labor put into it, make it's value seemingly non-existent, then...
Then...
Take it.
From that point, I'd breathe life back into what I had killed and taken. From there, I'd revive it. My mind...the ideas circulating...there can not be equaled. I'd take these ideas, these concepts in my mind, and I'd make this...thing, I had taken, and I'd make it worth more than it had ever been worth before. The labor that went into it was now more exhausting than it ever had been previously. It was now worth more than it ever imaginably could have been, and NOW...
NOW...
It was mine."
The man takes another smoke of his pipe, continuing to stare into the camera. His emotions don't change...the man is not happy, not angry, he's just...stating the truth. This is his truth. And that's all that matters to him.
"As I sit at home, and watch the beauty of the performance art of professional wrestling, I think to myself...
How can I take this? How can I make professional wrestling my newest acquisition?
It's simple...
Minimize...delete...the labor put into professional wrestling."
Suddenly the man grabs a nearby remote from under his glass table and turns around, revealing a large television screen behind him. Within a press of a button, the television screen illuminates.
The scene is not unlike any usual Wrestling Figs Wrestling Federation scene. There is a ring, two titans duking it out for in ring supremacy.
Except, this promotion is just a little different.
The wrestlers do not scream in pain. The bumps don't hurt them. It's almost like the performers are dancing, not battling.
"This promotion...they call it, Extreme Professional Wrestling. EPW.
During the years I aspired to take control of the professional wrestling business, I consulted with as many scientists as I could. I wanted to develop the supreme pain killer.
The pill that deletes pain.
The labor put into professional wrestling, without the presence of pain, is non-existent.
I killed the labor put into EPW. I destroyed its value. It means nothing.
My plan?
I plan to take control of the professional wrestling. I plan to unleash this medicine...the supreme pain killer. I will delete the labor put into professional wrestling. I will delete its value.
Wrestling Figures Wrestling Forum, upon my contract signing, I agreed to do things the "old school" way. I've been trained to wrestle...the kind with pain. The kind with labor. The kind of value.
But WFWF, I assure you. After I've gained enough followers, after I've achieved enough success, I will unleash my medicine.
Soon, the labor put into WFWF will be non existent. Its value? Much of the same.
Pofessional wrestling will be mine.
May the prophecy be fulfilled."
As the scene fades, the man takes another smoke.
May the prophecy be fulfilled.
Gregory Schmidt
The scene opens. The room is that of a normal living room, most likely of a person of well above average income. The fire roars in the background within the brick fire place, and the middle of the room, complete with bear skin rug, is a glass table. Seated at the table is a glass chair. Upon the chair sits a man. Well-combed, black hair and a short beard this man sports, along with a crimson red robe. He stares into the camera a moment, displaying seemingly no motion, simply smoking a pipe. As the smoke clears, the man places his pipe down and pauses.
Now, he speaks.
"It was a great 19th century political economist, revolutionary, and philosopher, Karl Marx was his name..."the father of communism," some call him, in his book Capital, that stated an item's value was only equal to the labor put into it. Gold is expensive, because much physical labor goes into attaining it. If there was an easier way to attain it, it simply wouldn't be worth as much.
I'm a man of much wealth. Not a simple man. In my fifty years, I've accumulated more money than most men see in their lifetimes.
I'm not like most wealthy men. I didn't work hard and invest in the best of stocks. I didn't work my way up the political ladder, gaining people's acceptance.
All I had to do, was put my eye on the prize...to put my eye on what I wanted, and to take away it's value. To minimize the labor put into it, make it's value seemingly non-existent, then...
Then...
Take it.
From that point, I'd breathe life back into what I had killed and taken. From there, I'd revive it. My mind...the ideas circulating...there can not be equaled. I'd take these ideas, these concepts in my mind, and I'd make this...thing, I had taken, and I'd make it worth more than it had ever been worth before. The labor that went into it was now more exhausting than it ever had been previously. It was now worth more than it ever imaginably could have been, and NOW...
NOW...
It was mine."
The man takes another smoke of his pipe, continuing to stare into the camera. His emotions don't change...the man is not happy, not angry, he's just...stating the truth. This is his truth. And that's all that matters to him.
"As I sit at home, and watch the beauty of the performance art of professional wrestling, I think to myself...
How can I take this? How can I make professional wrestling my newest acquisition?
It's simple...
Minimize...delete...the labor put into professional wrestling."
Suddenly the man grabs a nearby remote from under his glass table and turns around, revealing a large television screen behind him. Within a press of a button, the television screen illuminates.
The scene is not unlike any usual Wrestling Figs Wrestling Federation scene. There is a ring, two titans duking it out for in ring supremacy.
Except, this promotion is just a little different.
The wrestlers do not scream in pain. The bumps don't hurt them. It's almost like the performers are dancing, not battling.
"This promotion...they call it, Extreme Professional Wrestling. EPW.
During the years I aspired to take control of the professional wrestling business, I consulted with as many scientists as I could. I wanted to develop the supreme pain killer.
The pill that deletes pain.
The labor put into professional wrestling, without the presence of pain, is non-existent.
I killed the labor put into EPW. I destroyed its value. It means nothing.
My plan?
I plan to take control of the professional wrestling. I plan to unleash this medicine...the supreme pain killer. I will delete the labor put into professional wrestling. I will delete its value.
Wrestling Figures Wrestling Forum, upon my contract signing, I agreed to do things the "old school" way. I've been trained to wrestle...the kind with pain. The kind with labor. The kind of value.
But WFWF, I assure you. After I've gained enough followers, after I've achieved enough success, I will unleash my medicine.
Soon, the labor put into WFWF will be non existent. Its value? Much of the same.
Pofessional wrestling will be mine.
May the prophecy be fulfilled."
As the scene fades, the man takes another smoke.
May the prophecy be fulfilled.
