Post by theanti on Jan 12, 2009 19:04:28 GMT -5
So this is it. We've honestly seen what everybody fucking has right now. And for some it was way less than expected. Even possibly a little extra for a few select others. Going above and beyond to try and achieve greatness, or for others to achieve the greatness they once had, or in other cases even keep who they truly are, even if it is a shitty gimmick. We're done to the wire on what's left to be said, on who's got something left to prove, and honestly who has the fucking balls to go above and beyond what is really who they are. Some say they have done it, some are frankly too scared to even stick the toes in the water. But those thoughts are just thoughts, and the words everyone has said, are just that, a bunch of bullshit words. It's put up or fucking shut up. And for the hardcore bitches, talk shit, or get hit. It's all the same ...everybody is going to get hit. Whether they think it or not. It's just the malice effect of things.
We see Tweeks sitting in the hallways on a CWF stage crate. He's holding a fishing rod and a shiny little lure on the end of it, it glimmers from the tube lights that hang from the ceiling. He's staring in a trance forward, not at the camera but straight forward beyond that. Is it a metaphor? No he's just looking past that shit ...what are you fucking dumb?! The camera shifts and he's staring at a locker room. No nameplate, no nothing. He smirks with evil intentions, not looking at the camera that has now brought it's attention back to him, but still at the door.
Tweeks/// This is where I would usually start the countdown of the what is to come. This is where I would say this is when I begin the prep time for a massacre at foot. This is where I would stand with a pure smile, thinking of all the things, and spurting them out loud for the world to hear them like a madman on crack. Saying that damn World Championship is as good as mine. That no one in this match deserves the title shot ...and it would be the truth, including myself in that. I would say all these things with every bit of confidence in the world. But it never is confidence, it is just the truth in the air that everyone is too naive to see or read.
He cranks the rod a little bit, making the slight clicking noise and he smiles again.
Tweeks/// But I'm not going to go through that right now. I've gone through it too many times. Instead I am going to just spurt out what's in my head and how ironic and how fucking perfect it is for the time, the place, and the people. All night long, into my dreams, and throughout the day I have had a simple song in my head. A great song for any music lover, or any rock or hardcore listener. Probably best known as the face song for hardcore music at that. By a band from Canada being Comeback Kid. And this chorus, is just echoing through my head, going back and forth, and I haven't heard the song in months. It hit me in all reality today. It is the siren song of this company. The song that could be for everyone. But it mainly should be for this match. And I am thinking, "Wake The Dead" such an inspirational song in its work. Such an amazing song, but fucking such a piece of shit at the same time. It is now tarnished, ripped to shreds, in shambles. Echoing through my head, over and over again. "You said, you said, YOU SAID! THIS TIME WAS GUNNA BE DIFFERENT! WAKE UP THE DEAD!"
He covers his head, almost disarmed, trying to defuse what the fuck is going through his mind!
Tweeks/// Because you all fucking said it would be different. You are fucking amazing one die in the sunlight and the next, BAM YOU FUCKING HIT THE PAVEMENT WITH ONE SWIFT BLOW! Why? Why?! Because you have given up on yourself. You have given into the fucking demands of your mind to become some water down pieces of shit, morphed to the liking of no one but your family. And in most cases in this damn place not even the family can stand your guts. This match is about waking up the dead. About waking up the fucking idiots that had something special and threw it to the dogs, like I already said about Luke throwing all of you to the dog, being me. What's going to change. Is this match a big bit of enlightenment, you could say that. You could say that CJ Tyler, Eryk Ince, and Alonzo Parker have already seen the light. They have been enlightened by their own means, and have gone to what they like. But it's not true. None of it's true, they are so stuck in their own delusions of what they think is real nowadays that this match is everything, or nothing at the same time.
He sends the line of the rod out some to where it's sitting on the ground about 2 feet in front of him and slowly cranks it back in.
Tweeks/// "YOU SAID! this time was gunna be different." And you all have, CJ Tyler has sat here in a wake of being awake. The crust still sticking in his damn eyes, thinking this is his time to shine. This is the damn chance he's been begging for, for how many months? Since day one? Pretty fucking much. A Brotherhood of Chaos? You think of that all by yourself, or did Lance Khaos ram that shit into your head with his dick? That's enlightenment, Razor Rob, who put it best himself, a fucking Clockwork Orange dressing mother fucker? And you CJ Tyler, some fucker who sits at home watching TNA, sees people from months ago like Rellik and Judas McFag who wore gay masks like Slipknot, and thought they were ripping you off. Ripping off your gimmick. You think you, that same fucking kid, yes KID, and some other goofy looking fuck together are going to bring to light the wrong doings of a whole damn company. The wrong doings of yourselves are more overwhelming then this whole damn company. Rob has made it a damn habit of aligning himself with the worst people possible. And what does that say for you then Ceej? That just further proves what? Hell what does that say about you in general? That shoves you in the mitts of Mr.Khaos and I know you don't want that!
He covers his fucking face Home Alone style, making a damn mocking face.
Tweeks/// I don't even need to go on about you. I don't even need to go on about every damn promise you have ever made, ever declared, every brought to the surface from the center of the Earth, has been nothing but a fucking load of shit. Brotherhood of Khaos, Khaos, Khaos!Is just a scapegoat for you Mr.Tyler and something that will shine you away from that limelight you fucking want, away from that World title you know you wont win tonight. It's just something that will sidetrack you away from the disappointment that will fill your head and your heart after that final bell rings at the end of the night. Because whether or not you upset your 'friend' in that ring, or Alonzo Parker. The second that bell rings and you see my hand raised, you will feel dead inside and there will no more chances for you to wake up.
He launches the line down further almost at the door in front of him. Cranks it back to where the lure sits pretty at the tip.
Tweeks/// "Break the silence, WAKE THE DEAD! Running through these streets alone. I'll kick and scream, lets break this hold. Cause I swear, that this wont render useless. I promise you, we've come this far. And I'm not stopping, I'm not stopping now! ENOUGH HIDING IN SHADOWS! Wake up, send out this message, It's clear" And it's way too fucking clear! Everything is making sense. Why? Why oh why?! Because nobody is listening. Eryk Ince has this always sense of thinking he knows what the hell is going on. Knowing what is in line for him and what is really this fucking opportunity. He doesn't see what this is though. He doesn't understand that this could be and should be his last chance, his last chance to do something, make something, understand that this is fucking it and should make it feel like this is it. I don't feel that sense of urgency, I just feel that sense that Eryk still thinks he knows what is going on. Do you still think I am not talking about your Mr.Ince? Oh that's right you didn't hear anything I heard before because you are trapped in that little mind that you can only fill with nicotine and false hopes. But this is fucking it Eryk. This is the chance you and everybody else has demanded for how long. Maybe the little bitchfest to Torrey Lynn made a difference, maybe she did whisper into Luke's ear to get you in this shit. But kid, honestly show me something other then you are here. Show me that you fucking want this more then what you have. You've came out spit some shit out and went back to your car and drove home. You might as well not put anymore gas in the car. Because you want gold and I demand glory. I demand fucking blood, sweat, and a bag of chips! Just because I am not sitting here gushing over the World title doesn't mean I don't respect the title it is. Doesn't mean I wont sit here and honor that shit like a bitch. Just because I am not practically sucking it's dick like everybody else, doesn't mean I don't deserve it. Doesn't mean I shouldn't have the chance to have it around my waste. It just means that I know where I stand as a person, a human being, and most importantly here ...a wrestler. You all see this as your big chance. I've had plenty of big chances, big opportunities, and this is not one of them. This is just the proving grounds of what legends are made of. And believe me that isn't referring to CJ Tyler being the second triple crown champion in CWF history. Not referring to Eryk Ince finding what he needs to become a first time CWF World Champ. AND I AM SURE AS HELLLL! Not referring to Alonzo Parker defying the odds and beating three people in three different matches to retain his gold. This match is what CWF was made for no matter what Torrey Lynn, CJ Tyler, Eryk Ince, Alonzo Parker, or any gangster wannabe faggot has to say. Because whether they fucking see what I mean or not. This is destruction at it's finest. Because these words don't mean a damn thing, these little thoughts and concerns shouldn't plague the common folk. But they should rip through the weak. And this whole match, idea, and plot. Is nothing but a fishing net, and only the strong are going to slip through the cracks.
He smiles and casts the last throw of the line. The lure smacks the door and hits the ground. He reels it in with a smile tossing the rod onto the crate getting in the face of the camera.
Tweeks/// And this net is catching all the big fish it fucking wants. Sink or swim? The Champ is about to get his floaties popped, and the other are about to find out the dog paddle doesn't work the best. We're living in a DROWNING SOCIETY!
He smiles and tosses something on the floor in front of the door. He walks off singing to himself.
Tweeks/// "YOU SAID, YOU SAID, YOU SAID! THIS TIME WAS GUNNA BE DIFFERENT! WAKE UP THE DEAD! YOU SAID, YOU SAID, YOU SAID! THIS TIME WAS GUNNA BE DIFFERENT! WAKE UP THE DEAD! COMING ALIVE ...SOMETHING stirs inside..."
His voice trails off into the distance as the camera looks down at the object Tweeks tossed on the ground. It's Alonzo Parker's nameplate sitting on the floor with a black line through it. Suddenly the door opens up and we see Parker holding that title over his shoulder tight looking confused as to what's going on outside his locker room. Camera person? Fishing rod? Crazy guy singing down the hallways? He looks down sees his nameplate on the floor and picks it up. He looks down the hallway Tweeks already gone, he adjusts the belt on his shoulder ...looking to be holding onto it a little bit tighter. He looks at the camera and shoves it back.
Alonzo Parker/// Get the hell outta here! You want 'The Spotlight', you get him tonight!
Prepare for it to be stolen right from under your feet, and let it seep right through your fingers. Spotlight dimmed and burnt out.
TBCB No One
We see Tweeks sitting in the hallways on a CWF stage crate. He's holding a fishing rod and a shiny little lure on the end of it, it glimmers from the tube lights that hang from the ceiling. He's staring in a trance forward, not at the camera but straight forward beyond that. Is it a metaphor? No he's just looking past that shit ...what are you fucking dumb?! The camera shifts and he's staring at a locker room. No nameplate, no nothing. He smirks with evil intentions, not looking at the camera that has now brought it's attention back to him, but still at the door.
Tweeks/// This is where I would usually start the countdown of the what is to come. This is where I would say this is when I begin the prep time for a massacre at foot. This is where I would stand with a pure smile, thinking of all the things, and spurting them out loud for the world to hear them like a madman on crack. Saying that damn World Championship is as good as mine. That no one in this match deserves the title shot ...and it would be the truth, including myself in that. I would say all these things with every bit of confidence in the world. But it never is confidence, it is just the truth in the air that everyone is too naive to see or read.
He cranks the rod a little bit, making the slight clicking noise and he smiles again.
Tweeks/// But I'm not going to go through that right now. I've gone through it too many times. Instead I am going to just spurt out what's in my head and how ironic and how fucking perfect it is for the time, the place, and the people. All night long, into my dreams, and throughout the day I have had a simple song in my head. A great song for any music lover, or any rock or hardcore listener. Probably best known as the face song for hardcore music at that. By a band from Canada being Comeback Kid. And this chorus, is just echoing through my head, going back and forth, and I haven't heard the song in months. It hit me in all reality today. It is the siren song of this company. The song that could be for everyone. But it mainly should be for this match. And I am thinking, "Wake The Dead" such an inspirational song in its work. Such an amazing song, but fucking such a piece of shit at the same time. It is now tarnished, ripped to shreds, in shambles. Echoing through my head, over and over again. "You said, you said, YOU SAID! THIS TIME WAS GUNNA BE DIFFERENT! WAKE UP THE DEAD!"
He covers his head, almost disarmed, trying to defuse what the fuck is going through his mind!
Tweeks/// Because you all fucking said it would be different. You are fucking amazing one die in the sunlight and the next, BAM YOU FUCKING HIT THE PAVEMENT WITH ONE SWIFT BLOW! Why? Why?! Because you have given up on yourself. You have given into the fucking demands of your mind to become some water down pieces of shit, morphed to the liking of no one but your family. And in most cases in this damn place not even the family can stand your guts. This match is about waking up the dead. About waking up the fucking idiots that had something special and threw it to the dogs, like I already said about Luke throwing all of you to the dog, being me. What's going to change. Is this match a big bit of enlightenment, you could say that. You could say that CJ Tyler, Eryk Ince, and Alonzo Parker have already seen the light. They have been enlightened by their own means, and have gone to what they like. But it's not true. None of it's true, they are so stuck in their own delusions of what they think is real nowadays that this match is everything, or nothing at the same time.
He sends the line of the rod out some to where it's sitting on the ground about 2 feet in front of him and slowly cranks it back in.
Tweeks/// "YOU SAID! this time was gunna be different." And you all have, CJ Tyler has sat here in a wake of being awake. The crust still sticking in his damn eyes, thinking this is his time to shine. This is the damn chance he's been begging for, for how many months? Since day one? Pretty fucking much. A Brotherhood of Chaos? You think of that all by yourself, or did Lance Khaos ram that shit into your head with his dick? That's enlightenment, Razor Rob, who put it best himself, a fucking Clockwork Orange dressing mother fucker? And you CJ Tyler, some fucker who sits at home watching TNA, sees people from months ago like Rellik and Judas McFag who wore gay masks like Slipknot, and thought they were ripping you off. Ripping off your gimmick. You think you, that same fucking kid, yes KID, and some other goofy looking fuck together are going to bring to light the wrong doings of a whole damn company. The wrong doings of yourselves are more overwhelming then this whole damn company. Rob has made it a damn habit of aligning himself with the worst people possible. And what does that say for you then Ceej? That just further proves what? Hell what does that say about you in general? That shoves you in the mitts of Mr.Khaos and I know you don't want that!
He covers his fucking face Home Alone style, making a damn mocking face.
Tweeks/// I don't even need to go on about you. I don't even need to go on about every damn promise you have ever made, ever declared, every brought to the surface from the center of the Earth, has been nothing but a fucking load of shit. Brotherhood of Khaos, Khaos, Khaos!Is just a scapegoat for you Mr.Tyler and something that will shine you away from that limelight you fucking want, away from that World title you know you wont win tonight. It's just something that will sidetrack you away from the disappointment that will fill your head and your heart after that final bell rings at the end of the night. Because whether or not you upset your 'friend' in that ring, or Alonzo Parker. The second that bell rings and you see my hand raised, you will feel dead inside and there will no more chances for you to wake up.
He launches the line down further almost at the door in front of him. Cranks it back to where the lure sits pretty at the tip.
Tweeks/// "Break the silence, WAKE THE DEAD! Running through these streets alone. I'll kick and scream, lets break this hold. Cause I swear, that this wont render useless. I promise you, we've come this far. And I'm not stopping, I'm not stopping now! ENOUGH HIDING IN SHADOWS! Wake up, send out this message, It's clear" And it's way too fucking clear! Everything is making sense. Why? Why oh why?! Because nobody is listening. Eryk Ince has this always sense of thinking he knows what the hell is going on. Knowing what is in line for him and what is really this fucking opportunity. He doesn't see what this is though. He doesn't understand that this could be and should be his last chance, his last chance to do something, make something, understand that this is fucking it and should make it feel like this is it. I don't feel that sense of urgency, I just feel that sense that Eryk still thinks he knows what is going on. Do you still think I am not talking about your Mr.Ince? Oh that's right you didn't hear anything I heard before because you are trapped in that little mind that you can only fill with nicotine and false hopes. But this is fucking it Eryk. This is the chance you and everybody else has demanded for how long. Maybe the little bitchfest to Torrey Lynn made a difference, maybe she did whisper into Luke's ear to get you in this shit. But kid, honestly show me something other then you are here. Show me that you fucking want this more then what you have. You've came out spit some shit out and went back to your car and drove home. You might as well not put anymore gas in the car. Because you want gold and I demand glory. I demand fucking blood, sweat, and a bag of chips! Just because I am not sitting here gushing over the World title doesn't mean I don't respect the title it is. Doesn't mean I wont sit here and honor that shit like a bitch. Just because I am not practically sucking it's dick like everybody else, doesn't mean I don't deserve it. Doesn't mean I shouldn't have the chance to have it around my waste. It just means that I know where I stand as a person, a human being, and most importantly here ...a wrestler. You all see this as your big chance. I've had plenty of big chances, big opportunities, and this is not one of them. This is just the proving grounds of what legends are made of. And believe me that isn't referring to CJ Tyler being the second triple crown champion in CWF history. Not referring to Eryk Ince finding what he needs to become a first time CWF World Champ. AND I AM SURE AS HELLLL! Not referring to Alonzo Parker defying the odds and beating three people in three different matches to retain his gold. This match is what CWF was made for no matter what Torrey Lynn, CJ Tyler, Eryk Ince, Alonzo Parker, or any gangster wannabe faggot has to say. Because whether they fucking see what I mean or not. This is destruction at it's finest. Because these words don't mean a damn thing, these little thoughts and concerns shouldn't plague the common folk. But they should rip through the weak. And this whole match, idea, and plot. Is nothing but a fishing net, and only the strong are going to slip through the cracks.
He smiles and casts the last throw of the line. The lure smacks the door and hits the ground. He reels it in with a smile tossing the rod onto the crate getting in the face of the camera.
Tweeks/// And this net is catching all the big fish it fucking wants. Sink or swim? The Champ is about to get his floaties popped, and the other are about to find out the dog paddle doesn't work the best. We're living in a DROWNING SOCIETY!
He smiles and tosses something on the floor in front of the door. He walks off singing to himself.
Tweeks/// "YOU SAID, YOU SAID, YOU SAID! THIS TIME WAS GUNNA BE DIFFERENT! WAKE UP THE DEAD! YOU SAID, YOU SAID, YOU SAID! THIS TIME WAS GUNNA BE DIFFERENT! WAKE UP THE DEAD! COMING ALIVE ...SOMETHING stirs inside..."
His voice trails off into the distance as the camera looks down at the object Tweeks tossed on the ground. It's Alonzo Parker's nameplate sitting on the floor with a black line through it. Suddenly the door opens up and we see Parker holding that title over his shoulder tight looking confused as to what's going on outside his locker room. Camera person? Fishing rod? Crazy guy singing down the hallways? He looks down sees his nameplate on the floor and picks it up. He looks down the hallway Tweeks already gone, he adjusts the belt on his shoulder ...looking to be holding onto it a little bit tighter. He looks at the camera and shoves it back.
Alonzo Parker/// Get the hell outta here! You want 'The Spotlight', you get him tonight!
Prepare for it to be stolen right from under your feet, and let it seep right through your fingers. Spotlight dimmed and burnt out.
TBCB No One