AGGRESSION 52: KOTC - High Flyer vs. Stalker
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
Stalker
I stalk, because I care
- Joined
- May 2, 2007
- Messages
- 894
- Points
- 18
- Age
- 40
Re: AGGRESSION 51: KOTC - High Flyer vs. Stalker
Woman: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Hospital room, the woman is delivering a baby. Surrounded by doctors, nurses and her husband holding her hand for dear life.)
Nurse #1: Doctor...
Woman: AHHHH!!!!
Nurse #1: Doctor Patterson! This baby need to come out now her blood pressure is rising too much. She's going to have a heart attack!
Dr. Patterson: Janet... listen to me. Janet you need to push harder right now.. PUSH HARDER!
Janet: I AM PUSHING!!!! Larry... LARRY I NEED....
Larry: Honey, what is it? What do you need?
(Yanking her husband in closer.)
Janet: I NEED YOU TO SHUT UP!
Dr. Patterson: One more push Janet. Come on, I can see his head now you can do this, PUSH FOR ME!
Janet: ARRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!
Dr. Patterson: THERE WE GO!
(The baby comes out successfully, Janet collapses back on to the bed and relinquishes her husband's hand.)
Larry: Thank god.
(Larry looks over as the nurses clean up the baby.)
Dr. Patterson: Janet and Larry. It's a boy!
(The doctor says this smiling, Janet too exhausted to even respond is just staring at her child as he is being tended to by the nurses. Larry has a huge grin over his face.)
Nurse #2: Doctor Patterson... DOCTOR! He's not breathing!!!
Janet & Larry: WHAT?!?
Dr. Patterson: Let me see...
Larry: What's going on with our son!?!?
Dr. Patterson: We need to get him prepped for surgery immediately! Get him into Room 6 NOW!
(The nurses cart off the parent's young son. Larry looks confused, his wife screams at them as they are leaving.)
Janet: WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY SON!!?!?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH JASON!!!!!
(Fade in to Jason Reeves walking down the side of the street, hands dug deep into his pockets. His hair blowing in the wind. Looking down at the pavement he is moving slowly as the cameras catch up to him.)
Stalker: Another day, another loss. Seems to be a trend for me. Something that I need to break before my mind.. before I completely lose my mind. I honestly felt that getting finished with Rocko Daymon would be the start of a rebirth for me. Little did I know that I was wrong. Rebirth don't come at a time of great achievement they come when a man is at his lowest, when a man has nowhere else to turn. I think...
(Stopping for a second he turns to face the camera, the light of the sun going down sends a blaze color across the sky behind him.)
Stalker: Not think, I know. I know that the King of the Cage where my rebirth will begin and where my new goal will be achieved. The first step to that achievement is someone... well he's someone that I know very little about. Either way, High Flyer welcome to my fresh slate. Black Dawn was my wake up call, my alarm clock. I can not continue like this. My will to destroy people's careers WILL NO LONGER be at the expense of my dedication and match ending desire. Rocko Daymon ripped my dreams away from me and I thought retiring him from EPW would satisfy my hunger, but it's not enough.
Stalker: For a long time now, I've had a desire building up in the pit of my stomach. People may want to call it jealousy, but I call it desire. The desire to be Empire Pro's World CHAMPION!
(Jason, takes out a cigarette pack and lights one up. Laughing to himself a bit after he does so.)
Stalker: You all think I must be joking? Right? How can this loser ever aspire to be World Champion?!? Right.. High Flyer? I'm sure after seeing this you will think I am on the latest drug. But I hate to tell you that you will be a victim of that desire. The first victim. You won't be the last though. It's time for a change, it's time for these 'fans' of EPW to see what it would be like to have ME as their World Champion. To live in Stalker's World every time they step foot into an arena to watch a live event. Every time they turn on their televisions for an Aggression. They will experience my pain as I inflict it upon the masses for betraying me. Betraying my way of life, looking down ON ME as being less then everyone else because I REFUSE to abide by 'The rules'.
(Flicking his cigarette off to the side, Jason squares himself in front of the camera.)
Stalker: No one is safe, no one at all and High Flyer will be the first to fall. Welcome to the rebirth. Welcome to my new desire and obsession... becoming....
EPW's...... WORLD.... CHAMPION.
(Fade.)
Woman: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Hospital room, the woman is delivering a baby. Surrounded by doctors, nurses and her husband holding her hand for dear life.)
Nurse #1: Doctor...
Woman: AHHHH!!!!
Nurse #1: Doctor Patterson! This baby need to come out now her blood pressure is rising too much. She's going to have a heart attack!
Dr. Patterson: Janet... listen to me. Janet you need to push harder right now.. PUSH HARDER!
Janet: I AM PUSHING!!!! Larry... LARRY I NEED....
Larry: Honey, what is it? What do you need?
(Yanking her husband in closer.)
Janet: I NEED YOU TO SHUT UP!
Dr. Patterson: One more push Janet. Come on, I can see his head now you can do this, PUSH FOR ME!
Janet: ARRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!
Dr. Patterson: THERE WE GO!
(The baby comes out successfully, Janet collapses back on to the bed and relinquishes her husband's hand.)
Larry: Thank god.
(Larry looks over as the nurses clean up the baby.)
Dr. Patterson: Janet and Larry. It's a boy!
(The doctor says this smiling, Janet too exhausted to even respond is just staring at her child as he is being tended to by the nurses. Larry has a huge grin over his face.)
Nurse #2: Doctor Patterson... DOCTOR! He's not breathing!!!
Janet & Larry: WHAT?!?
Dr. Patterson: Let me see...
Larry: What's going on with our son!?!?
Dr. Patterson: We need to get him prepped for surgery immediately! Get him into Room 6 NOW!
(The nurses cart off the parent's young son. Larry looks confused, his wife screams at them as they are leaving.)
Janet: WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY SON!!?!?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH JASON!!!!!
(Fade in to Jason Reeves walking down the side of the street, hands dug deep into his pockets. His hair blowing in the wind. Looking down at the pavement he is moving slowly as the cameras catch up to him.)
Stalker: Another day, another loss. Seems to be a trend for me. Something that I need to break before my mind.. before I completely lose my mind. I honestly felt that getting finished with Rocko Daymon would be the start of a rebirth for me. Little did I know that I was wrong. Rebirth don't come at a time of great achievement they come when a man is at his lowest, when a man has nowhere else to turn. I think...
(Stopping for a second he turns to face the camera, the light of the sun going down sends a blaze color across the sky behind him.)
Stalker: Not think, I know. I know that the King of the Cage where my rebirth will begin and where my new goal will be achieved. The first step to that achievement is someone... well he's someone that I know very little about. Either way, High Flyer welcome to my fresh slate. Black Dawn was my wake up call, my alarm clock. I can not continue like this. My will to destroy people's careers WILL NO LONGER be at the expense of my dedication and match ending desire. Rocko Daymon ripped my dreams away from me and I thought retiring him from EPW would satisfy my hunger, but it's not enough.
Stalker: For a long time now, I've had a desire building up in the pit of my stomach. People may want to call it jealousy, but I call it desire. The desire to be Empire Pro's World CHAMPION!
(Jason, takes out a cigarette pack and lights one up. Laughing to himself a bit after he does so.)
Stalker: You all think I must be joking? Right? How can this loser ever aspire to be World Champion?!? Right.. High Flyer? I'm sure after seeing this you will think I am on the latest drug. But I hate to tell you that you will be a victim of that desire. The first victim. You won't be the last though. It's time for a change, it's time for these 'fans' of EPW to see what it would be like to have ME as their World Champion. To live in Stalker's World every time they step foot into an arena to watch a live event. Every time they turn on their televisions for an Aggression. They will experience my pain as I inflict it upon the masses for betraying me. Betraying my way of life, looking down ON ME as being less then everyone else because I REFUSE to abide by 'The rules'.
(Flicking his cigarette off to the side, Jason squares himself in front of the camera.)
Stalker: No one is safe, no one at all and High Flyer will be the first to fall. Welcome to the rebirth. Welcome to my new desire and obsession... becoming....
EPW's...... WORLD.... CHAMPION.
(Fade.)
- Joined
- Jan 6, 2005
- Messages
- 1,076
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 40
- Location
- Los Angeles, CA, formerly PA
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Re: AGGRESSION 51: KOTC - High Flyer vs. Stalker
(BLACK VIDEO MATTE.)
VOICE: Alles was du machest, wirdest tot sein.
(FADEIN: The Odessa Training Academy, its secondary location in Los Angeles, California. The newest batch of trainees are running collar and elbow tie up drills, focusing on chain wrestling. If this were a scratch and sniff video, all that one would smell is sweat and tears. If one had the power of a vampire, perhaps you'd also smell the remnants of blood long since cleaned. Tony Davis, blue dreadlocks, Team VIAGRA t-shirt, and cargo shorts commands the students, yelling at one particular sub two hundred pounder for his incorrect form. He quickly shoves him to the side.
The sub-two hundred pounder rubs his hands through his long curly blonde hair, as he winces and breathes heavily. Tony goes to the man he was just working, a near three hundred pound monster of a man with short dark hair, and shows off the proper form. Left arm straight, his right forearm bent and placed on top of his opponents straighten left arm. He breaks the hold, showing his elbow to the smaller student and pointing to its bent state. The two students then lock up again, with Tony smiling as he does.
Outside of the ring, one of the newest EPW stars, High Flyer, is discussing proper diet and training regime with the rest of the students of his class.)
HIGH FLYER: You see, everything you do today, your body will forget tomorrow should you neglect it. This sport isn't like riding a bike. Maybe after years and years of practice, this can become second nature, but right now, you're at a delicate point in your education. You shouldn't be going out to McDonalds and getting six big Macs because they have protein, MARK.
(Flyer smacks a student wearing a hat on his brim. The student readjusts his hat.)
HIGH FLYER: You should be eating grilled chicken, you should be eating a lot of it, and you should be in the gym, two, three hours a day. I don't care if all you're doing is cardio; your body needs to adjust to this sport. Because while every one of those marks and smarks says this is fake, your body tells a different story. And it tells me when you're lazy, when you're taking short cuts, and now is not that time. Take some time on the weights, do what you need. We'll continue our lessons next week at this time. Remember, you're always free to use the gym. Part of your tuition is for that very reason. You're payin' the cash, make the most of it. Alright?
(Various grumbles from the crowded group of wannabe wrestlers. Flyer nods to them, and the group breaks apart, each man going to a specific machine in the gym. Flyer rolls his eyes at one man who decides to leave immediately, grabbing his gym bag and walking out of the gym.)
HIGH FLYER: Ah. Cameras. Yes. I remember this. Y'know, I've spent countless hours training wannabes, countless more delivering promos, wrestling some of the greatest men and women this sport has ever seen, and Stalker doesn't have the common decency to do his homework? (Scoffs) Can't say I blame him. I hate opening books, but the good thing about studying wrestling is that it's ALWAYS about a book that's been made into a movie. It's not hard to hit play on YouTube and catch one of the numerous encounters I've had with some of the greatest superstars EPW has ever seen. Y'know, I'm not one to brag about past accomplishments, because wrestling IS a business of, "What have you done for me lately?" But, when my resume includes victories over people like Shawn Jessica Hart, recently redebuted Lindsey Troy, Cameron Cruise, and the frakin' world heavyweight champion Triple X Sean Stevens, I'd take a gander at what I can do before writing me off as just another victim on your long list of zero. Considering your fresh slate and all.
(Flyer walks over to the ring and slams the mat.)
HIGH FLYER: HEY! Weight training. Get 'em to it.
(Tony nods to his long time tag partner, and the two men doing collar and elbow tie up drills slide out of the ring and to their respective stations.)
HIGH FLYER: Cause you don't just wake up one day and become a professional. Sure, maybe you wake up and say to yourself, yes, TODAY is the day I put everything else second in my life and devote myself to the craft of wrestling, but it takes months, years of dedication before you see results of ANY kind. So, to think that overnight, even after years of training, of wrestling, that you're suddenly a new person? I call foul on that. Cause I'd like to bring up that old saying of practice makes perfect, and tell you all, that only perfect practice makes perfect.
(Flyer walks over to a nearby table, where red headed lawyer Mary-Lynn Mayweather is going over paperwork. She hands a few pages to Flyer, who frowns.)
HIGH FLYER: You aren't having me sign away my life here, are you?
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Only if your life is lost when you sign a contract to pay for trash pickup.
(Flyer quickly jots his signature down and hands the pages back to MLM. He turns, and continues making his rounds around the gym, watching his students train.)
HIGH FLYER: Like that Jason, he came here with a dream, and yet, he rushes out of here at the first instant, ready to go live a regular normal life. I wouldn't tell it to his face because I'd lose seventy five dollars every week, but the guy obviously doesn't want to be here. He's not putting his heart into it. Maybe, maybe that's how you were Stalker, and I understand not putting your heart into some things. Like Lost. I can't believe I spent so much time watching that fraking show. But this sport? Heart, soul, blood, tears, sweat, all the fans out there have heard what each of us puts into our careers to be, THE. VERY. BEST.
(Flyer pats a student on the back as he does a few butterfly curls.)
HIGH FLYER: Cause as much as the confines of a steel cage scare me, as much as I look back ten years ago and realize that a steel cage forever changed the way I wrestle, is still crippling me to this day, I know that just entering such a structure can shorten a career by years. I'm a prime example. I've been in this business for 17 years. (Frowns) Maybe longer. I dunno, too many chair shots to the head. Thank God we stopped that. But in 2000, back when you were wondering what you wanted to do with your life, I was wrestling in one of the biggest promotions in the world, where I was defending my United States championship against one of my greatest friends in this business. He's not here anymore. Somehow I still am. But as I climbed the steel cage confines that we had agreed to, I wanted to show off, I wanted to fly! Freaking R. Kelly song stuck in my head, I leapt and my foot got caught on those old blue bars. My leg hyper extended, and I heard my knee crack as I hung, upside down, each subtle movement sending searing pain up through my leg, my spine. I fought to do a simple push up. A push up. Can you believe that a push up made me cry? But it did. I lost that match, I lost my title, but worst of all, I lost YEARS. I'm only 34, and I've had three surgeries on my knee. I've spent countless months on the shelf in rehabilitation. Four months after, another four months a year later, eight months a year after that, eight more three years later, and my knee has never been the same. I've never been as fast as I was when I could have billed myself as the fastest wrestler in all of wrestling. But I compensated. I focused on chain wrestling, technical skills, and I learned to use my other leg to propel me for my high flying thrills. But I've never been the same.
(Flyer smiles, turning to the camera and grabbing it at both sides.)
HIGH FLYER: I know my time in this sport is ending. I know I've got few precious moments left. Stalker, relish every moment you get, but realize, and regret your decision to enter this King of the Cage tournament. Because at any moment, you could lose years of your career. Maybe not to me, maybe not because of your opponent, but maybe just because of a mistake YOU make. It happened to me. It can happen to you.
(Flyer lowered his head, his eyes solemn.)
HIGH FLYER: Just regret, because as I see my name in this tournament of death, I regret ever signing up for what could be my last match ever.
(Flyer shrugged, releasing the camera from his grasp.)
HIGH FLYER: But what's done is done. So, let's have some fun while we can, shall we?
(Flyer's smile grows, a Cheshire like grin that rivals the Flying Frenchie's of the FWO. A mile wide, he tosses his head back in a cackle.)
HIGH FLYER: OH I LOVE ME SOME RISK!
(Flyer's tag team partner and co-trainer Tony Davis frowns. He is holding a board game, the one known as Risk.)
TONY DAVIS: But you NEVER play with me!
(Tony tosses the game down and storms away. Flyer's eyes narrow, utterly confused, as we FADE OUT.)
(BLACK VIDEO MATTE.)
VOICE: Alles was du machest, wirdest tot sein.
(FADEIN: The Odessa Training Academy, its secondary location in Los Angeles, California. The newest batch of trainees are running collar and elbow tie up drills, focusing on chain wrestling. If this were a scratch and sniff video, all that one would smell is sweat and tears. If one had the power of a vampire, perhaps you'd also smell the remnants of blood long since cleaned. Tony Davis, blue dreadlocks, Team VIAGRA t-shirt, and cargo shorts commands the students, yelling at one particular sub two hundred pounder for his incorrect form. He quickly shoves him to the side.
The sub-two hundred pounder rubs his hands through his long curly blonde hair, as he winces and breathes heavily. Tony goes to the man he was just working, a near three hundred pound monster of a man with short dark hair, and shows off the proper form. Left arm straight, his right forearm bent and placed on top of his opponents straighten left arm. He breaks the hold, showing his elbow to the smaller student and pointing to its bent state. The two students then lock up again, with Tony smiling as he does.
Outside of the ring, one of the newest EPW stars, High Flyer, is discussing proper diet and training regime with the rest of the students of his class.)
HIGH FLYER: You see, everything you do today, your body will forget tomorrow should you neglect it. This sport isn't like riding a bike. Maybe after years and years of practice, this can become second nature, but right now, you're at a delicate point in your education. You shouldn't be going out to McDonalds and getting six big Macs because they have protein, MARK.
(Flyer smacks a student wearing a hat on his brim. The student readjusts his hat.)
HIGH FLYER: You should be eating grilled chicken, you should be eating a lot of it, and you should be in the gym, two, three hours a day. I don't care if all you're doing is cardio; your body needs to adjust to this sport. Because while every one of those marks and smarks says this is fake, your body tells a different story. And it tells me when you're lazy, when you're taking short cuts, and now is not that time. Take some time on the weights, do what you need. We'll continue our lessons next week at this time. Remember, you're always free to use the gym. Part of your tuition is for that very reason. You're payin' the cash, make the most of it. Alright?
(Various grumbles from the crowded group of wannabe wrestlers. Flyer nods to them, and the group breaks apart, each man going to a specific machine in the gym. Flyer rolls his eyes at one man who decides to leave immediately, grabbing his gym bag and walking out of the gym.)
HIGH FLYER: Ah. Cameras. Yes. I remember this. Y'know, I've spent countless hours training wannabes, countless more delivering promos, wrestling some of the greatest men and women this sport has ever seen, and Stalker doesn't have the common decency to do his homework? (Scoffs) Can't say I blame him. I hate opening books, but the good thing about studying wrestling is that it's ALWAYS about a book that's been made into a movie. It's not hard to hit play on YouTube and catch one of the numerous encounters I've had with some of the greatest superstars EPW has ever seen. Y'know, I'm not one to brag about past accomplishments, because wrestling IS a business of, "What have you done for me lately?" But, when my resume includes victories over people like Shawn Jessica Hart, recently redebuted Lindsey Troy, Cameron Cruise, and the frakin' world heavyweight champion Triple X Sean Stevens, I'd take a gander at what I can do before writing me off as just another victim on your long list of zero. Considering your fresh slate and all.
(Flyer walks over to the ring and slams the mat.)
HIGH FLYER: HEY! Weight training. Get 'em to it.
(Tony nods to his long time tag partner, and the two men doing collar and elbow tie up drills slide out of the ring and to their respective stations.)
HIGH FLYER: Cause you don't just wake up one day and become a professional. Sure, maybe you wake up and say to yourself, yes, TODAY is the day I put everything else second in my life and devote myself to the craft of wrestling, but it takes months, years of dedication before you see results of ANY kind. So, to think that overnight, even after years of training, of wrestling, that you're suddenly a new person? I call foul on that. Cause I'd like to bring up that old saying of practice makes perfect, and tell you all, that only perfect practice makes perfect.
(Flyer walks over to a nearby table, where red headed lawyer Mary-Lynn Mayweather is going over paperwork. She hands a few pages to Flyer, who frowns.)
HIGH FLYER: You aren't having me sign away my life here, are you?
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Only if your life is lost when you sign a contract to pay for trash pickup.
(Flyer quickly jots his signature down and hands the pages back to MLM. He turns, and continues making his rounds around the gym, watching his students train.)
HIGH FLYER: Like that Jason, he came here with a dream, and yet, he rushes out of here at the first instant, ready to go live a regular normal life. I wouldn't tell it to his face because I'd lose seventy five dollars every week, but the guy obviously doesn't want to be here. He's not putting his heart into it. Maybe, maybe that's how you were Stalker, and I understand not putting your heart into some things. Like Lost. I can't believe I spent so much time watching that fraking show. But this sport? Heart, soul, blood, tears, sweat, all the fans out there have heard what each of us puts into our careers to be, THE. VERY. BEST.
(Flyer pats a student on the back as he does a few butterfly curls.)
HIGH FLYER: Cause as much as the confines of a steel cage scare me, as much as I look back ten years ago and realize that a steel cage forever changed the way I wrestle, is still crippling me to this day, I know that just entering such a structure can shorten a career by years. I'm a prime example. I've been in this business for 17 years. (Frowns) Maybe longer. I dunno, too many chair shots to the head. Thank God we stopped that. But in 2000, back when you were wondering what you wanted to do with your life, I was wrestling in one of the biggest promotions in the world, where I was defending my United States championship against one of my greatest friends in this business. He's not here anymore. Somehow I still am. But as I climbed the steel cage confines that we had agreed to, I wanted to show off, I wanted to fly! Freaking R. Kelly song stuck in my head, I leapt and my foot got caught on those old blue bars. My leg hyper extended, and I heard my knee crack as I hung, upside down, each subtle movement sending searing pain up through my leg, my spine. I fought to do a simple push up. A push up. Can you believe that a push up made me cry? But it did. I lost that match, I lost my title, but worst of all, I lost YEARS. I'm only 34, and I've had three surgeries on my knee. I've spent countless months on the shelf in rehabilitation. Four months after, another four months a year later, eight months a year after that, eight more three years later, and my knee has never been the same. I've never been as fast as I was when I could have billed myself as the fastest wrestler in all of wrestling. But I compensated. I focused on chain wrestling, technical skills, and I learned to use my other leg to propel me for my high flying thrills. But I've never been the same.
(Flyer smiles, turning to the camera and grabbing it at both sides.)
HIGH FLYER: I know my time in this sport is ending. I know I've got few precious moments left. Stalker, relish every moment you get, but realize, and regret your decision to enter this King of the Cage tournament. Because at any moment, you could lose years of your career. Maybe not to me, maybe not because of your opponent, but maybe just because of a mistake YOU make. It happened to me. It can happen to you.
(Flyer lowered his head, his eyes solemn.)
HIGH FLYER: Just regret, because as I see my name in this tournament of death, I regret ever signing up for what could be my last match ever.
(Flyer shrugged, releasing the camera from his grasp.)
HIGH FLYER: But what's done is done. So, let's have some fun while we can, shall we?
(Flyer's smile grows, a Cheshire like grin that rivals the Flying Frenchie's of the FWO. A mile wide, he tosses his head back in a cackle.)
HIGH FLYER: OH I LOVE ME SOME RISK!
(Flyer's tag team partner and co-trainer Tony Davis frowns. He is holding a board game, the one known as Risk.)
TONY DAVIS: But you NEVER play with me!
(Tony tosses the game down and storms away. Flyer's eyes narrow, utterly confused, as we FADE OUT.)
Stalker
I stalk, because I care
- Joined
- May 2, 2007
- Messages
- 894
- Points
- 18
- Age
- 40
Re: AGGRESSION 51: KOTC - High Flyer vs. Stalker
Voice: Jason! JASON!
(Fade in. Young Jason Reeves, clutching his GI Joe. Staring out the window of what seems to be his house. The two calls for his name go unanswered as he stares outside the window with a blank look on his face. Suddenly his father Larry comes storming in the room.)
Larry: Jason, i've been calling you for the past 10 minutes. Get your shoes on we gotta go!
(A few moments pass and Jason turns around walking to his bed and pulling out his shoes from underneath it. He puts them on as his dad calls him one more time. Jason runs out the room quickly leaving his GI Joe on the bed. Camera switches to them getting into the truck. Jason, putting his seat belt on looks over at his father.)
Jason: Where are we going, Dad?
Larry: We've been over this twenty times today, Jason, we are going to see your mom.
Jason: Oh yeah.... that's right.
(They drive off in silence for a while, Larry has a huge grin on his face. Jason on the other hand is just staring out the window.)
Larry: Aren't you excited, son?
Jason: Not really. I mean.. I guess I am.
Larry: Well you should be.
(Father and son sit in silence for a few more minutes, before pulling in a small local hospital. They find a parking spot, get out of their truck and Larry leads Jason in. They walk up to the front counter, which is being manned by an older looking nurse.)
Nurse: Can I help y'all?
Larry: Yes, which room is Janet Reeves in?
Nurse: Oh Yes! She's in room 23 right around the corner there, she'll be excited to see you both i'm sure!
(They walk down the hall and Larry stops Jason short of the door.)
Larry: Let me go in first Jason, make sure she's up.
Jason: Okay.
(Larry walks in and Jason takes a seat outside, two doctors walk by casually talking to one another. Jason looks at the ground, his leggings swinging off the seat back and forth.)
Larry: Son! Come in and visit your mother.
(Jason hops up and walks into the hospital room, looking at his father who is crouched over his mother. He moves out of the way to reveal his mother holding a baby girl.)
Janet: Jason.. come closer and meet your sister.
(Fade in, Jason Reeves sitting at a diner, hovering a plate of food. His hair is draped in front of his face as he scarfs up his meal fast. The waiter walks by puts the check on the table and walks off quickly, not wanting to interrupt him from his meal. Jason continues to eat quickly, after a few more seconds he finishes up his last bite and takes a long drink of soda.)
Stalker: What was I thinking about doing with my life back in 2000? Well let's see, I believe that was about the time that IWF had just went bankrupt, my brief return to SCW did not go anywhere and I was left wifeless, no job, no money and on the streets. Yeah I think that about sums up the year 2000 for me. You know i'm sorry that you 'hurt' your knee and that you feel like you have lost ten years off your career. Wait a minute...
(Slapping himself in the face, it catches the waiter walking by off guard. He stops for a second looking at Jason who simply sneers at him and he continues walking.)
Stalker: I'm not sorry... I can't believe I just said those words. What the hell is wrong with me.
(Jason looks down at the table, disgusted with himself, shaking his head in disappointment.)
Stalker: I hope, Flyer, I hope you will be the one to help me figure that out. That is why we are at a clean slate right now. Perhaps it can be one for you as well? Or maybe you would like this to be your last match? We shall see won't we? Either way, although you thought you were cute about poking fun at my misfortune in EPW, you forgot to overlook one thing. My list is not a list of zero. It is a list of two. One item will change with every Aggression that's forth coming, the other however will remain the same until I reach the finals. That item on the list... well I think we all know what item that is. I honestly think it's a good thing too, my placement in this tournament. I won't even get a chance at sniffing the world title until the very end. So Number 1 on my priority list right now, is you Flyer.
(Standing up Jason throws some bills on the table from his pocket and starts walking off, he bumps into the waiter who spills the table he was carrying and it doesn't even flinch Jason. He steps out of the diner into the hot, sticky air of downtown Houston and casually takes a walk down the street lighting up a smoke as he goes.)
Stalker: So how's the training thing going for you man? I must admit I really didn't bother to look up much about you, and your wins don't really impress me. I could tell you more about my wins if you'd like but I think it would bore you to death. I think you found a good spot for yourself, though Flyer, and I don't think you should take it for granted. If you are honestly worried about stepping into the cage..... and honestly you should be..... then don't. I mean it's really simple as that, no one is going to look down upon you for not wanting to put your life at risk yet again! Haven't you done it enough already? And what the hell.. you are coming up against, ME? Of all people you drew me, I swear I don't think that luck has shined down upon you in this tournament buddy. Where as me.. well.. knowing an old injury to exploit, knowing that you are already in fear of the cage. That gives me a lot. Knowing that I could wrap your knee around the ropes of the cage and repeatedly drive it into the cage wall... ooohhh man!
(Shaking a little bit Jason steadies himself on a stop sign, looking at the camera he grins really big.)
Stalker: Knowing that type of weakness just gives me goosebumps all over. Ahhhh.. your poor little knee, how's it going to feel when I smash my FIST into it fifty times there, FLYER?!? Is it gonna feel good buddy?!
(Letting out a loud crazy laugh he catches the eye of a few citizens, who stop to stare at him. Two of them, a young man and woman come running up to him.)
Young Man: Hey.. Hey.. you're Stalker aren't you?
(Jason looks at him with a frown on his face.)
Young Man: Awesome it is you! Haha, babe can you believe it?!? I watched this guy back about what 10-15 years ago? Wow it's been a long time since then. I always rooted for the bad guys man. I loved your hardcore matches you rocked! Hey.. my girlfriend and I are actually just visiting some friends down here, we have a camera with us.. do you mind taking a picture?
Stalker: Whatever... just don't touch me.
Young Man: Sure sure.. so you still wrestling?
(Jason just stares at him. The young man sensing the fact he doesn't want to be disturbed hands the camera to his girlfriend and stands next to Jason.)
Young Man: This is so AWESOME. Hey Riley take two just to make sure you get a goo.....
Stalker: WHAT'D YOU JUST SAY?!?
Young Man: Wha.... What?
Stalker: DON'T FOLLOW ME!
(Pushing the camera out of the way, Jason storms off and the camera fades to black.)
Janet: Jason... aren't you going to come say hi to your little sister?
Larry: Yeah, son. Don't be shy she's the new addition to our family!
(Grinning really wide Larry walks over and leads Jason by the hand to his mother. Jason looks down at the baby, who makes a slight cry that makes a smile cross Jason's face.)
Jason: Ma... May I hold her?
(Janet looks up to Larry who shakes his head yes and then back down at Jason and smiles at him.)
Janet: Of course sweetheart.
(Janet passes over her daughter to her son who is extra gentle, and caring when he grabs her. His grin never fades as he looks down at his baby sister.)
Jason: What's her name, Mom?
Janet: Her name is Riley, Jason. Riley Ann Reeves.
Voice: Jason! JASON!
(Fade in. Young Jason Reeves, clutching his GI Joe. Staring out the window of what seems to be his house. The two calls for his name go unanswered as he stares outside the window with a blank look on his face. Suddenly his father Larry comes storming in the room.)
Larry: Jason, i've been calling you for the past 10 minutes. Get your shoes on we gotta go!
(A few moments pass and Jason turns around walking to his bed and pulling out his shoes from underneath it. He puts them on as his dad calls him one more time. Jason runs out the room quickly leaving his GI Joe on the bed. Camera switches to them getting into the truck. Jason, putting his seat belt on looks over at his father.)
Jason: Where are we going, Dad?
Larry: We've been over this twenty times today, Jason, we are going to see your mom.
Jason: Oh yeah.... that's right.
(They drive off in silence for a while, Larry has a huge grin on his face. Jason on the other hand is just staring out the window.)
Larry: Aren't you excited, son?
Jason: Not really. I mean.. I guess I am.
Larry: Well you should be.
(Father and son sit in silence for a few more minutes, before pulling in a small local hospital. They find a parking spot, get out of their truck and Larry leads Jason in. They walk up to the front counter, which is being manned by an older looking nurse.)
Nurse: Can I help y'all?
Larry: Yes, which room is Janet Reeves in?
Nurse: Oh Yes! She's in room 23 right around the corner there, she'll be excited to see you both i'm sure!
(They walk down the hall and Larry stops Jason short of the door.)
Larry: Let me go in first Jason, make sure she's up.
Jason: Okay.
(Larry walks in and Jason takes a seat outside, two doctors walk by casually talking to one another. Jason looks at the ground, his leggings swinging off the seat back and forth.)
Larry: Son! Come in and visit your mother.
(Jason hops up and walks into the hospital room, looking at his father who is crouched over his mother. He moves out of the way to reveal his mother holding a baby girl.)
Janet: Jason.. come closer and meet your sister.
(Fade in, Jason Reeves sitting at a diner, hovering a plate of food. His hair is draped in front of his face as he scarfs up his meal fast. The waiter walks by puts the check on the table and walks off quickly, not wanting to interrupt him from his meal. Jason continues to eat quickly, after a few more seconds he finishes up his last bite and takes a long drink of soda.)
Stalker: What was I thinking about doing with my life back in 2000? Well let's see, I believe that was about the time that IWF had just went bankrupt, my brief return to SCW did not go anywhere and I was left wifeless, no job, no money and on the streets. Yeah I think that about sums up the year 2000 for me. You know i'm sorry that you 'hurt' your knee and that you feel like you have lost ten years off your career. Wait a minute...
(Slapping himself in the face, it catches the waiter walking by off guard. He stops for a second looking at Jason who simply sneers at him and he continues walking.)
Stalker: I'm not sorry... I can't believe I just said those words. What the hell is wrong with me.
(Jason looks down at the table, disgusted with himself, shaking his head in disappointment.)
Stalker: I hope, Flyer, I hope you will be the one to help me figure that out. That is why we are at a clean slate right now. Perhaps it can be one for you as well? Or maybe you would like this to be your last match? We shall see won't we? Either way, although you thought you were cute about poking fun at my misfortune in EPW, you forgot to overlook one thing. My list is not a list of zero. It is a list of two. One item will change with every Aggression that's forth coming, the other however will remain the same until I reach the finals. That item on the list... well I think we all know what item that is. I honestly think it's a good thing too, my placement in this tournament. I won't even get a chance at sniffing the world title until the very end. So Number 1 on my priority list right now, is you Flyer.
(Standing up Jason throws some bills on the table from his pocket and starts walking off, he bumps into the waiter who spills the table he was carrying and it doesn't even flinch Jason. He steps out of the diner into the hot, sticky air of downtown Houston and casually takes a walk down the street lighting up a smoke as he goes.)
Stalker: So how's the training thing going for you man? I must admit I really didn't bother to look up much about you, and your wins don't really impress me. I could tell you more about my wins if you'd like but I think it would bore you to death. I think you found a good spot for yourself, though Flyer, and I don't think you should take it for granted. If you are honestly worried about stepping into the cage..... and honestly you should be..... then don't. I mean it's really simple as that, no one is going to look down upon you for not wanting to put your life at risk yet again! Haven't you done it enough already? And what the hell.. you are coming up against, ME? Of all people you drew me, I swear I don't think that luck has shined down upon you in this tournament buddy. Where as me.. well.. knowing an old injury to exploit, knowing that you are already in fear of the cage. That gives me a lot. Knowing that I could wrap your knee around the ropes of the cage and repeatedly drive it into the cage wall... ooohhh man!
(Shaking a little bit Jason steadies himself on a stop sign, looking at the camera he grins really big.)
Stalker: Knowing that type of weakness just gives me goosebumps all over. Ahhhh.. your poor little knee, how's it going to feel when I smash my FIST into it fifty times there, FLYER?!? Is it gonna feel good buddy?!
(Letting out a loud crazy laugh he catches the eye of a few citizens, who stop to stare at him. Two of them, a young man and woman come running up to him.)
Young Man: Hey.. Hey.. you're Stalker aren't you?
(Jason looks at him with a frown on his face.)
Young Man: Awesome it is you! Haha, babe can you believe it?!? I watched this guy back about what 10-15 years ago? Wow it's been a long time since then. I always rooted for the bad guys man. I loved your hardcore matches you rocked! Hey.. my girlfriend and I are actually just visiting some friends down here, we have a camera with us.. do you mind taking a picture?
Stalker: Whatever... just don't touch me.
Young Man: Sure sure.. so you still wrestling?
(Jason just stares at him. The young man sensing the fact he doesn't want to be disturbed hands the camera to his girlfriend and stands next to Jason.)
Young Man: This is so AWESOME. Hey Riley take two just to make sure you get a goo.....
Stalker: WHAT'D YOU JUST SAY?!?
Young Man: Wha.... What?
Stalker: DON'T FOLLOW ME!
(Pushing the camera out of the way, Jason storms off and the camera fades to black.)
Janet: Jason... aren't you going to come say hi to your little sister?
Larry: Yeah, son. Don't be shy she's the new addition to our family!
(Grinning really wide Larry walks over and leads Jason by the hand to his mother. Jason looks down at the baby, who makes a slight cry that makes a smile cross Jason's face.)
Jason: Ma... May I hold her?
(Janet looks up to Larry who shakes his head yes and then back down at Jason and smiles at him.)
Janet: Of course sweetheart.
(Janet passes over her daughter to her son who is extra gentle, and caring when he grabs her. His grin never fades as he looks down at his baby sister.)
Jason: What's her name, Mom?
Janet: Her name is Riley, Jason. Riley Ann Reeves.
Stalker
I stalk, because I care
- Joined
- May 2, 2007
- Messages
- 894
- Points
- 18
- Age
- 40
Re: AGGRESSION 51: KOTC - High Flyer vs. Stalker
Riley: So are we going to play catch today, Jason?
(Fade in. Jason hunched over a desk in his room with a walkman blaring in his ears. He's writing something on some papers and has a book open in front of him. Riley, holding a baseball in one hand tosses it up in the air and catches it in the glove in her other.)
Riley: Jason!
(Turning around Jason looks at her and looks clueless at her and takes off his headset.)
Jason: What do you want, Riley?
Riley: You promised we would play catch today.
Jason: Well I got homework due tommorrow.
Riley: Oh come on Jason you're a senior, I thought senior's got to mess around all year.
(Turning back around Jason shakes his head.)
Jason: Not if they want to go anywhere good.
Riley: Fine whatever... i'll be outside.
Jason: Stay in the front yard. I don't need you getting in trouble while i'm supposed to be watching you.
Riley: Blah blah...
(She says that as she walks out of Jason's room.)
(Fade in to Jason Reeves, camera catching up with him, what seems to be hours later after the incident with the fans on the street. He's smoking a cigarette, his hand slightly shaking, and he is leaning up against a wall in a barely lit alley way. With the sun going down the camera can barely make out that's it's him except for the long hair draped over his eyes.)
Stalker: That's far enough.
(The camera man stops in his tracks and refocuses the lenses on Jason.)
Stalker: Now where was I about this High Flyer? Oh yeah that's right, he has a bum knee. Well I honestly hope in the world of EPW that is must be pretty torn up for you to complain as much as you have about it already. I guess three surgeries would do that to you though.
(Tossing his smoke on the ground and stomping it out, Jason shakes his head.)
Stalker: King of the Cage. What a tournament. Certainly will not be for the weak of heart, certainly not for our match. You know.. i've been a world champion, a tag champion, television, hardcore... blah blah you name the championship, i've probably held it at one point or another. However, I have never been called the King of anything and right now Empire Pro's reigning King of the Cage is none other then........ Trip.
(Disgust fills Jason's mouth as he spits at the ground violently. Turning around quickly he follows that up with a swift punch into the brick wall. The slight smack sound of his hand hitting the bricks doesn't seem to phase him one bit as he slouchs on the ground looking up into the camera.)
Stalker: That conversation will be for another time. As of now the only thing I care about is walking out of that cage against High Flyer as the winner of our match. Whatever it takes, I will do it. EVEN if I make it so that it's the last match i'll EVER be able to wrestle, I will do it. I am tired of what has been happening to my career. Tired of being looked down upon as a simple pyschopath who's only goal was to destroy Rocko, which I did. That is not my only goal, not anymore. It's time for me to move on and to do that I must.... MUST start winning. Fresh slate, clean start, another chance, call it whatever you want, it's my mission to secure that EMPIRE PRO World championship belt around my waist. To do that I need to take out one wrestler at a time. You, High Flyer, are just my first. Bleh... it's been a long day i'm done camera boy turn it off.
Camera Boy: Alright.
(Pointing the camera down he turns it off but the sound still comes through.)
Camera Boy: Hey Jason... why'd you flip out on those fans? When you heard the name Riley? Or what..?
Stalker: How about you worry about your past and i'll worry about mine.
Camera Boy: Whatever.
(Sound fades.)
(Fade in. Jason sitting at his desk writing his paper. His walkman is now turned off and resting on the desk next to his books. He's tapping his foot while thinking about what to write next when he hears a loud horn followed by a thump and a muffled noise. Getting up instantly he rushes out of his bedroom, down the hallway he flies and opens the front door. A look of pure horror crosses his face as he looks outside. He stands their motionless as people yelling and crying are heard near him. His eyes start to water up. Fade.)
Riley: So are we going to play catch today, Jason?
(Fade in. Jason hunched over a desk in his room with a walkman blaring in his ears. He's writing something on some papers and has a book open in front of him. Riley, holding a baseball in one hand tosses it up in the air and catches it in the glove in her other.)
Riley: Jason!
(Turning around Jason looks at her and looks clueless at her and takes off his headset.)
Jason: What do you want, Riley?
Riley: You promised we would play catch today.
Jason: Well I got homework due tommorrow.
Riley: Oh come on Jason you're a senior, I thought senior's got to mess around all year.
(Turning back around Jason shakes his head.)
Jason: Not if they want to go anywhere good.
Riley: Fine whatever... i'll be outside.
Jason: Stay in the front yard. I don't need you getting in trouble while i'm supposed to be watching you.
Riley: Blah blah...
(She says that as she walks out of Jason's room.)
(Fade in to Jason Reeves, camera catching up with him, what seems to be hours later after the incident with the fans on the street. He's smoking a cigarette, his hand slightly shaking, and he is leaning up against a wall in a barely lit alley way. With the sun going down the camera can barely make out that's it's him except for the long hair draped over his eyes.)
Stalker: That's far enough.
(The camera man stops in his tracks and refocuses the lenses on Jason.)
Stalker: Now where was I about this High Flyer? Oh yeah that's right, he has a bum knee. Well I honestly hope in the world of EPW that is must be pretty torn up for you to complain as much as you have about it already. I guess three surgeries would do that to you though.
(Tossing his smoke on the ground and stomping it out, Jason shakes his head.)
Stalker: King of the Cage. What a tournament. Certainly will not be for the weak of heart, certainly not for our match. You know.. i've been a world champion, a tag champion, television, hardcore... blah blah you name the championship, i've probably held it at one point or another. However, I have never been called the King of anything and right now Empire Pro's reigning King of the Cage is none other then........ Trip.
(Disgust fills Jason's mouth as he spits at the ground violently. Turning around quickly he follows that up with a swift punch into the brick wall. The slight smack sound of his hand hitting the bricks doesn't seem to phase him one bit as he slouchs on the ground looking up into the camera.)
Stalker: That conversation will be for another time. As of now the only thing I care about is walking out of that cage against High Flyer as the winner of our match. Whatever it takes, I will do it. EVEN if I make it so that it's the last match i'll EVER be able to wrestle, I will do it. I am tired of what has been happening to my career. Tired of being looked down upon as a simple pyschopath who's only goal was to destroy Rocko, which I did. That is not my only goal, not anymore. It's time for me to move on and to do that I must.... MUST start winning. Fresh slate, clean start, another chance, call it whatever you want, it's my mission to secure that EMPIRE PRO World championship belt around my waist. To do that I need to take out one wrestler at a time. You, High Flyer, are just my first. Bleh... it's been a long day i'm done camera boy turn it off.
Camera Boy: Alright.
(Pointing the camera down he turns it off but the sound still comes through.)
Camera Boy: Hey Jason... why'd you flip out on those fans? When you heard the name Riley? Or what..?
Stalker: How about you worry about your past and i'll worry about mine.
Camera Boy: Whatever.
(Sound fades.)
(Fade in. Jason sitting at his desk writing his paper. His walkman is now turned off and resting on the desk next to his books. He's tapping his foot while thinking about what to write next when he hears a loud horn followed by a thump and a muffled noise. Getting up instantly he rushes out of his bedroom, down the hallway he flies and opens the front door. A look of pure horror crosses his face as he looks outside. He stands their motionless as people yelling and crying are heard near him. His eyes start to water up. Fade.)
- Joined
- Jan 6, 2005
- Messages
- 1,076
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 40
- Location
- Los Angeles, CA, formerly PA
- Website
- www.genlmnop.com
Re: AGGRESSION 51: KOTC - High Flyer vs. Stalker
(FADEIN : High Flyer and independent wrestling starlet and protégé of Flyer’s, Mary-Lynn Mayweather, sit at what looks to be a news desk, each wearing their finest Sunday apparel. Which is odd for the man known as your Friendly Neighborhood Lunatic, considering his green hued hair and all. Mary-Lynn however, is taking this extremely professional.)
MLM: Hello everyone, and we have break-
HIGH FLYER: Shut up for a while Mary. Let the grown ups talk.
(Mary-Lynn’s nose upturns in resentment, as she shrugs her shoulders and tosses the script she held over her shoulders.)
HIGH FLYER: I gotta ask Stalker, have you ever heard of that saying, if you haven’t got anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all? Well, it also applies if you have nothing NEW to say either. I mean, lord, way to repeat yourself. Blah blah blah fresh slate, I’m winning, Cage matches, Flyer has a bum knee, blahbity blah blah blah.
MLM: But you say repetition is the key to comedy. It’s also the key the getting a point across. The American people have an attention span these days of-
HIGH FLYER: And another thing! Stalker, my man. You do your name sake very little justice. The only thing you’ve proven to me is that you listen to my promos. I haven’t seen you in the corner of my eye as I walk down the street to buy groceries. I’ve not seen you hiding outside of my living room window while I watch marathon after marathon of the greatest show in television history. I bet you don’t even know about my uncanny devotion to Buffy and the undying loyalty I have to Whedonism. I bet you don’t even know what size shoe I have! For a stalker, you’re certainly the ****tiest one I’ve ever had!
MLM: He’s-
HIGH FLYER: I mean, you’re no Mark David Chapman. He had the balls to DO something about his cause. John Hinckley KNEW killing Reagan would draw the eye of Jodie Foster cause she hated Reagonomics, and we all know 19 year old actresses never change their opinion about anything. And seriously, if you think you’re gonna kill me at king of the Cage like Robert John Bardo did his stalkee, I gotta wonder what grass you’re smoking. No, seriously. I’m out and my guy’s a douche. I gotta go watch him recite poetry for three hours a week to get me some when I’m not living in California. Seriously, have you ever listened to a talentless hack spout off verbal nonsense to the point that you want to lobot-oh wait. Nevermind. Unless not even you listen to yourself speak.
(Mary-Lynn goes to speak, but Flyer again cuts her off.)
HIGH FLYER: Which brings us to our next segment, stolen from our good friends at a fourth place network. Wouldn’t be so bad if there were more than four major networks. And the CW doesn’t count.
MLM: They did air Buffy.
HIGH FLYER: Hey! You want off TV for good or what?
(SFX: A tune from SNL places.
GFX: “REALLY!? With Lynn & Flyer!”)
HIGH FLYER: First off, if you’re starting with a clean slate, you can’t count your wins alongside of it. That’s like making Caddyshack 3 and saying 2 never happened. I mean, really? Really?
MLM: And Stalker, who plays catch with their sister in their senior year of High School? The only game of catch I played with my brothers was who caught the blame. I mean, really? Really?
HIGH FLYER: Oh, and Stalk, what IS with all those home movies we keep seeing? If I wanted to see your mom’s vagina, I’d give her a ring, give her my address and let her swipe my credit card between her butt cheeks. Really. REALLY!
(Flyer turns to smile at MLM, who is not accomidating)
HIGH FLYER: I would too.
MLM: I can’t say this.
HIGH FLYER: No. REALLY, you can. You will, or I’ll fire you. Out of a cannon. Into the sun.
MLM: *Groans* And Stalk, when you were born, your mom and dad knew immediately the right question to ask. “What’s wrong with our son.” They knew you were screwed up from the moment you entered this world, and you still don’t realize that? I mean, really?
HIGH FLYER: Really?! You let your sister get hit by a car? And you weren’t even addicted to pills or alcohol or seeing weird Jesus guys talking to you in your day dreams like Denis Leary? You were just a neglectful brother? I mean, REALLY? Really? I don’t like to attack family because I’m such a ****ty father, I didn’t know I had a daughter for two years, but at least she’s still alive. REALLY!
(Mary-Lynn frowns, and gets up from her seat.)
MLM: I’m sorry. I’m not doing this anymore. Fire me. Whatever.
HIGH FLYER: C’mon! It doesn’t work with one person! What are you doing!
MLM: You know, you can be a complete dick sometimes.
(Mary-Lynn storms off screen.)
HIGH FLYER: I know I’m allowed to be a dick. That’s the human condition! MARY!
(Flyer rolls his eyes, and gives chase off screen. After a few moments of static emptiness, green dreadlocked haired Tony Davis walks on screen. He has a microphone, and taps it once.)
TONY DAVIS: YO! DJ! DROP A BEAT!
(Nothing happens.)
TONY DAVIS: Oh right. It’s just me now.
(TONY rushes off screen. After a few moments, a beat that could only have come from the early 90’s, Vanilla Ice/ Brian Austin Green inspired begins to play. However, the picture FADES OUT, as does the sound.)
TONY DAVIS(softening with every word): NO! I have an awesome rap! Two Tone Tony's tough in a fight…
(COMPLETE BLACKNESS.)
(FADEIN : High Flyer and independent wrestling starlet and protégé of Flyer’s, Mary-Lynn Mayweather, sit at what looks to be a news desk, each wearing their finest Sunday apparel. Which is odd for the man known as your Friendly Neighborhood Lunatic, considering his green hued hair and all. Mary-Lynn however, is taking this extremely professional.)
MLM: Hello everyone, and we have break-
HIGH FLYER: Shut up for a while Mary. Let the grown ups talk.
(Mary-Lynn’s nose upturns in resentment, as she shrugs her shoulders and tosses the script she held over her shoulders.)
HIGH FLYER: I gotta ask Stalker, have you ever heard of that saying, if you haven’t got anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all? Well, it also applies if you have nothing NEW to say either. I mean, lord, way to repeat yourself. Blah blah blah fresh slate, I’m winning, Cage matches, Flyer has a bum knee, blahbity blah blah blah.
MLM: But you say repetition is the key to comedy. It’s also the key the getting a point across. The American people have an attention span these days of-
HIGH FLYER: And another thing! Stalker, my man. You do your name sake very little justice. The only thing you’ve proven to me is that you listen to my promos. I haven’t seen you in the corner of my eye as I walk down the street to buy groceries. I’ve not seen you hiding outside of my living room window while I watch marathon after marathon of the greatest show in television history. I bet you don’t even know about my uncanny devotion to Buffy and the undying loyalty I have to Whedonism. I bet you don’t even know what size shoe I have! For a stalker, you’re certainly the ****tiest one I’ve ever had!
MLM: He’s-
HIGH FLYER: I mean, you’re no Mark David Chapman. He had the balls to DO something about his cause. John Hinckley KNEW killing Reagan would draw the eye of Jodie Foster cause she hated Reagonomics, and we all know 19 year old actresses never change their opinion about anything. And seriously, if you think you’re gonna kill me at king of the Cage like Robert John Bardo did his stalkee, I gotta wonder what grass you’re smoking. No, seriously. I’m out and my guy’s a douche. I gotta go watch him recite poetry for three hours a week to get me some when I’m not living in California. Seriously, have you ever listened to a talentless hack spout off verbal nonsense to the point that you want to lobot-oh wait. Nevermind. Unless not even you listen to yourself speak.
(Mary-Lynn goes to speak, but Flyer again cuts her off.)
HIGH FLYER: Which brings us to our next segment, stolen from our good friends at a fourth place network. Wouldn’t be so bad if there were more than four major networks. And the CW doesn’t count.
MLM: They did air Buffy.
HIGH FLYER: Hey! You want off TV for good or what?
(SFX: A tune from SNL places.
GFX: “REALLY!? With Lynn & Flyer!”)
HIGH FLYER: First off, if you’re starting with a clean slate, you can’t count your wins alongside of it. That’s like making Caddyshack 3 and saying 2 never happened. I mean, really? Really?
MLM: And Stalker, who plays catch with their sister in their senior year of High School? The only game of catch I played with my brothers was who caught the blame. I mean, really? Really?
HIGH FLYER: Oh, and Stalk, what IS with all those home movies we keep seeing? If I wanted to see your mom’s vagina, I’d give her a ring, give her my address and let her swipe my credit card between her butt cheeks. Really. REALLY!
(Flyer turns to smile at MLM, who is not accomidating)
HIGH FLYER: I would too.
MLM: I can’t say this.
HIGH FLYER: No. REALLY, you can. You will, or I’ll fire you. Out of a cannon. Into the sun.
MLM: *Groans* And Stalk, when you were born, your mom and dad knew immediately the right question to ask. “What’s wrong with our son.” They knew you were screwed up from the moment you entered this world, and you still don’t realize that? I mean, really?
HIGH FLYER: Really?! You let your sister get hit by a car? And you weren’t even addicted to pills or alcohol or seeing weird Jesus guys talking to you in your day dreams like Denis Leary? You were just a neglectful brother? I mean, REALLY? Really? I don’t like to attack family because I’m such a ****ty father, I didn’t know I had a daughter for two years, but at least she’s still alive. REALLY!
(Mary-Lynn frowns, and gets up from her seat.)
MLM: I’m sorry. I’m not doing this anymore. Fire me. Whatever.
HIGH FLYER: C’mon! It doesn’t work with one person! What are you doing!
MLM: You know, you can be a complete dick sometimes.
(Mary-Lynn storms off screen.)
HIGH FLYER: I know I’m allowed to be a dick. That’s the human condition! MARY!
(Flyer rolls his eyes, and gives chase off screen. After a few moments of static emptiness, green dreadlocked haired Tony Davis walks on screen. He has a microphone, and taps it once.)
TONY DAVIS: YO! DJ! DROP A BEAT!
(Nothing happens.)
TONY DAVIS: Oh right. It’s just me now.
(TONY rushes off screen. After a few moments, a beat that could only have come from the early 90’s, Vanilla Ice/ Brian Austin Green inspired begins to play. However, the picture FADES OUT, as does the sound.)
TONY DAVIS(softening with every word): NO! I have an awesome rap! Two Tone Tony's tough in a fight…
(COMPLETE BLACKNESS.)
Stalker
I stalk, because I care
- Joined
- May 2, 2007
- Messages
- 894
- Points
- 18
- Age
- 40
Re: AGGRESSION 51: KOTC - High Flyer vs. Stalker
Voice: Jason.... you have a visitor.
(Fade in to Jason Reeves, a young teenage version of Jason Reeves. He's sitting in the corner of a small all white room. He's wearing pajamas and is staring out a window from the corner of his room. It's raining heavily outside and Jason makes no response to the Nurse letting him know he has a visitor.)
Nurse: Can you hear me, dear? Your mother is here to visit you. The doctor has given her permission to visit you in your room, so i'll be showing her in unless you have an objection.
(Standing there for a few moments she waits for a response from him but nothing comes out of his mouth. Shaking her head and looking towards the ground she exits the room. Focusing back in on Jason, he stares outside the window watching the rain drops hit the glass. A few more moments pass and his mother, Janet, enters the room.)
Janet: Hey baby. How are you?
(Janet gets no response and she approaches him with a sad look on her face.)
Janet: Jason, it's really good to see you. Your father and I have missed you very much. I... We were wondering if you would be interested in coming home? The doctors say that would be okay as long as we kept a close eye on you. We would really like you home Jason.
(Still no response from Jason even as Janet walks to him and stands next to him. Pushing back his hair as he stares out the window.)
Janet: Honey... I know we've gone through this before but no one blames you for what happened.
(With a fury Jason pushes his mother off of him and his eyes fill with rage as he moves across the room stalking her.)
Jason: YOU KNOW WHAT MOTHER!??!? YOU MAY NOT BLAME ME FOR WHAT HAPPENED.... YOU MAY NOT THINK IT'S MY FAULT FOR RILEY'S ACCIDENT! BUT I DO! I DOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Two orderlies bust through the door and they see Jason in his enraged state and they quickly move in to calm him down and hold him against the wall as his mother leaves the room with tears flowing down her eyes.)
Jason: DON'T COME BACK HERE AGAIN MOM! NEVER COME TO SEE ME AGAIN!!!!
(Fade in. Jason Reeves entering what looks to be his home. It's pouring rain outside, which is normal for Seattle, Washington. He throws his duffel bag on the floor and walks over to the fridge, opening it and grabbing a beer. He opens it, takes a long swig and moves over to what looks to be his answering machine.)
Answering Machine: Three new messages. Message one, "Yo! Jason it's Delroy, man long time no..." Message deleted, next message. Message two, "Hey, Boss. It's Terry. Listen I ran into a bit of money trouble and was..." Message deleted, next message. Message three, "Jason...
(The woman's voice almost makes, Jason drop his beer straight from his hand.)
Answering Machine: "Jason... it's Riley. We... uh... we need to talk. Please..... I miss you." End of messages. Message Saved.
(Jason with a look of disbelief on his face moves over to his couch and plops down on it turning on his television to the latest High Flyer promo. In silence he watches the first few moments then laughs out loud.)
Stalker: Blabbity blah blah, huh? ****ing joke.
(He gulps down the rest of his beer and places the bottle on the coffee table as he watches the rest of the promo. He sits in silence as he listens and watches. The screen fills with darkness and Jason lets out a loud groan before speaking.)
Stalker: **** you Flyer. Honestly, would you like me to follow you into the dark alleys that you visit? You know the ones that you need to go down with your boy from poetry club to score some dope? Is that what you would really like? Or how about I watch you from your bedroom window while you have Mary Lynn bent over? Is that what you would like from me? My alias has been Stalker for going on almost 15 years now. You think I remember why or how it even came about? After all the booze, hits to the head, hospital visits, black outs and everything else that i've had happen to me you honestly think I would care or remember how I came up with my wrestling name? Call me Jason if you want, call me your ***** if you want, I don't ****ing care Flyer. What I do care about though is what you say I keep repeating, yeah you have a bum knee, yeah you are stepping into a cage match with me, YEAH I am going to kill you. What the **** do you think I am going to do? What else is there to say? Should I sit there on some ghetto ass public channel and make a news show to make fun of you? Where I can say, Really?!? At the end of every sentence. I mean Really come on now. Really?
(Getting up from his couch, Jason heads back to the kitchen and grabs another beer. He opens it up and tosses the cap in the garbage before walking back in front of the camera.)
Stalker: You wanna know what was wrong with me when I was born? Really? Want to know? Do you really? ReaLLY! God sakes I can't even stop myself from saying that damn word. You don't need to know **** about my birth, or what was wrong with me when I was a baby. You piece of god damn trash, I would much rather repeat myself then let the **** flow from my mouth like it does yours. Is this what EPW has resorted to these days? It's no longer about outwitting your enemy, it's about who can come up with the better cut downs? Screw that. All that matters is what happens in that ring. All that matters is when you step into the cage with me, with your bum knee, i'm going to exploit it, i'm going to destroy it and in the process i'm going to end your career. You should've never opened your mouth, NEVER. I was going to let you slide for everything that was said previously until you mentioned... her. Mary Lynn walked out on your ass after making her spew the garbage that you came up with. I am not surprised, it's a funny thing the way you are acting is making me out to look like the good guy!
(Jason, laughing hysterically, finishes off his beer and sets the bottle on the coffee table before making a few steps closer to the camera.)
Stalker: If I were you, Flyer, I would cut my losses now and run for the ****ing hills because you just opened a can of ****ing worms so big that no one and I mean no one will be able to save you. I don't ****ing care if Dan Ryan the owner himself walked to the middle of that ring and tried to stop me from ripping your leg apart I WOULD GET FIRED to end you. I... DO... NOT.. CARE! You opened your mouth with the wrong damn words coming out and at Aggression, you will be sorry for ever thinking you could mess with.... MY WORLD!!!!
(Camera cuts to static.)
Voice: Jason.... you have a visitor.
(Fade in to Jason Reeves, a young teenage version of Jason Reeves. He's sitting in the corner of a small all white room. He's wearing pajamas and is staring out a window from the corner of his room. It's raining heavily outside and Jason makes no response to the Nurse letting him know he has a visitor.)
Nurse: Can you hear me, dear? Your mother is here to visit you. The doctor has given her permission to visit you in your room, so i'll be showing her in unless you have an objection.
(Standing there for a few moments she waits for a response from him but nothing comes out of his mouth. Shaking her head and looking towards the ground she exits the room. Focusing back in on Jason, he stares outside the window watching the rain drops hit the glass. A few more moments pass and his mother, Janet, enters the room.)
Janet: Hey baby. How are you?
(Janet gets no response and she approaches him with a sad look on her face.)
Janet: Jason, it's really good to see you. Your father and I have missed you very much. I... We were wondering if you would be interested in coming home? The doctors say that would be okay as long as we kept a close eye on you. We would really like you home Jason.
(Still no response from Jason even as Janet walks to him and stands next to him. Pushing back his hair as he stares out the window.)
Janet: Honey... I know we've gone through this before but no one blames you for what happened.
(With a fury Jason pushes his mother off of him and his eyes fill with rage as he moves across the room stalking her.)
Jason: YOU KNOW WHAT MOTHER!??!? YOU MAY NOT BLAME ME FOR WHAT HAPPENED.... YOU MAY NOT THINK IT'S MY FAULT FOR RILEY'S ACCIDENT! BUT I DO! I DOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Two orderlies bust through the door and they see Jason in his enraged state and they quickly move in to calm him down and hold him against the wall as his mother leaves the room with tears flowing down her eyes.)
Jason: DON'T COME BACK HERE AGAIN MOM! NEVER COME TO SEE ME AGAIN!!!!
(Fade in. Jason Reeves entering what looks to be his home. It's pouring rain outside, which is normal for Seattle, Washington. He throws his duffel bag on the floor and walks over to the fridge, opening it and grabbing a beer. He opens it, takes a long swig and moves over to what looks to be his answering machine.)
Answering Machine: Three new messages. Message one, "Yo! Jason it's Delroy, man long time no..." Message deleted, next message. Message two, "Hey, Boss. It's Terry. Listen I ran into a bit of money trouble and was..." Message deleted, next message. Message three, "Jason...
(The woman's voice almost makes, Jason drop his beer straight from his hand.)
Answering Machine: "Jason... it's Riley. We... uh... we need to talk. Please..... I miss you." End of messages. Message Saved.
(Jason with a look of disbelief on his face moves over to his couch and plops down on it turning on his television to the latest High Flyer promo. In silence he watches the first few moments then laughs out loud.)
Stalker: Blabbity blah blah, huh? ****ing joke.
(He gulps down the rest of his beer and places the bottle on the coffee table as he watches the rest of the promo. He sits in silence as he listens and watches. The screen fills with darkness and Jason lets out a loud groan before speaking.)
Stalker: **** you Flyer. Honestly, would you like me to follow you into the dark alleys that you visit? You know the ones that you need to go down with your boy from poetry club to score some dope? Is that what you would really like? Or how about I watch you from your bedroom window while you have Mary Lynn bent over? Is that what you would like from me? My alias has been Stalker for going on almost 15 years now. You think I remember why or how it even came about? After all the booze, hits to the head, hospital visits, black outs and everything else that i've had happen to me you honestly think I would care or remember how I came up with my wrestling name? Call me Jason if you want, call me your ***** if you want, I don't ****ing care Flyer. What I do care about though is what you say I keep repeating, yeah you have a bum knee, yeah you are stepping into a cage match with me, YEAH I am going to kill you. What the **** do you think I am going to do? What else is there to say? Should I sit there on some ghetto ass public channel and make a news show to make fun of you? Where I can say, Really?!? At the end of every sentence. I mean Really come on now. Really?
(Getting up from his couch, Jason heads back to the kitchen and grabs another beer. He opens it up and tosses the cap in the garbage before walking back in front of the camera.)
Stalker: You wanna know what was wrong with me when I was born? Really? Want to know? Do you really? ReaLLY! God sakes I can't even stop myself from saying that damn word. You don't need to know **** about my birth, or what was wrong with me when I was a baby. You piece of god damn trash, I would much rather repeat myself then let the **** flow from my mouth like it does yours. Is this what EPW has resorted to these days? It's no longer about outwitting your enemy, it's about who can come up with the better cut downs? Screw that. All that matters is what happens in that ring. All that matters is when you step into the cage with me, with your bum knee, i'm going to exploit it, i'm going to destroy it and in the process i'm going to end your career. You should've never opened your mouth, NEVER. I was going to let you slide for everything that was said previously until you mentioned... her. Mary Lynn walked out on your ass after making her spew the garbage that you came up with. I am not surprised, it's a funny thing the way you are acting is making me out to look like the good guy!
(Jason, laughing hysterically, finishes off his beer and sets the bottle on the coffee table before making a few steps closer to the camera.)
Stalker: If I were you, Flyer, I would cut my losses now and run for the ****ing hills because you just opened a can of ****ing worms so big that no one and I mean no one will be able to save you. I don't ****ing care if Dan Ryan the owner himself walked to the middle of that ring and tried to stop me from ripping your leg apart I WOULD GET FIRED to end you. I... DO... NOT.. CARE! You opened your mouth with the wrong damn words coming out and at Aggression, you will be sorry for ever thinking you could mess with.... MY WORLD!!!!
(Camera cuts to static.)
- Joined
- Jan 6, 2005
- Messages
- 1,076
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 40
- Location
- Los Angeles, CA, formerly PA
- Website
- www.genlmnop.com
HIGH FLYER(VO): For a man who’s been in this business as long as Stalker, you’d think he’d be less easily manipulate-able.
(FADEIN: Back in the Odessa Training Academy, Tony Davis and Mary-Lynn Mayweather are having what would amount to a match between two students, the larger and smaller from earlier in the week. Tony Davis is working over the smaller man with catch as catch can wrestling skills, reversing a hammerlock into one of his own. On the outside, High Flyer turns his attention away from the action in the ring going on in the background to the cameras, firmly pointed at him direct center.)
HIGH FLYER: Although… Now THAT, is the FURY, and the passion I was looking for. WOO boy. I can't wait till Aggression. Because there's something you don't know about me Bean Stalk. Ya see, I LOVEZ ME SOME ANARCHY. CHAOS, VENGEANCE, it's what makes the world go round, and round, and round. I don’t just know arm bars and figure four leg locks and springboard plancha’s. I know enough about this business to deal with the psychology of not just a match, but of a person’s mind. Believe me, I know what it’s like to be on the other side of the fence. To be furious with anger to the point of self detriment. To be willing to give everything you have in order to defeat your foe. And I know that a man fueled by vengeance is a man fueled by stupidity.
(Flyer smiles, a large, Cheshire cat like smile he’s long since been known for. He rubs his hands through his long green hair and takes in a deep breath.)
HIGH FLYER: Five years ago, I gave up the love of my life for a chance to defeat Craig Miles. You know Craig, the guy who chain smokes not just cigarettes in my view. A man who pushed me beyond the logical point of human emotion to one of pure hatred and vitriol. A man who made me say, no, Sorry Kate, sorry my wife, the mother of my children, but I would rather try to kill myself to defeat this Newport loving bastard than spend another moment with you. And y’know what happened? I jumped off the video tron and crashed through a table, completely missing my intended target. Craig pinned me that night, and I never thought I’d get another chance to avenge my loss. It was only after months of self reflection, loneliness, and a large plot that deceived the entire fan base of the organization that I was able to gain the upper hand. When I stripped myself of the fury and the anger I had, I was finally able to accomplish what I desired… his defeat, and the World Heavyweight Championship.
I spent years defending that belt, YEARS. And y’know what? While I lost my wife, I lost the ability to see the birth of my second child, I gained knowledge of this sport I never had. Knowledge I hope to pass onto you. That with great furious anger, comes nothing but regret and loss. Cause a hot blooded man full o' testosterone and a goal to kill, will not defeat his opponent. Might as well be an impotent mutilated armless homeless man begging for a brawl. You might get a bit of bloodletting, but you’re never going to be the same afterward.
(Flyer pulls out a cigarette from his back pocket and lit the tip. Mary-Lynn jumps off the apron and walks over to Flyer, slapping the cigarette out of your hand.)
HIGH FLYER: Hey!
MLM: I thought you quit.
HIGH FLYER: And I thought you were getting better. You’re letting Tony get double teamed!
MLM: You know we’re just running drills Jack.
HIGH FLYER: Yeah yeah.
(Flyer bends over and picks up his cigarette off the floor. He takes a drag, and sighs.)
HIGH FLYER: Eh, you’re right. Tastes like **** these days anyway.
(Flyer tosses it back to the floor.)
HIGH FLYER: Y’know, Stalk thinks I’m porkin’ ya.
MLM: As if.
HIGH FLYER: That’d be like porking my sister. Y’know, the one that’s still alive.
TONY DAVIS: YEAH!
(Tony shouts from a headlock, now at the mercy of the larger student in the ring.)
TONY DAVIS: That’s my job!
(Flyer winces, as Mary-Lynn climbs back on the apron.)
HIGH FLYER: Look, take my words personally. Do it. I want you to be out of your element. I want you to want revenge, not victory. Cause well, it’s either going to make you make a mistake, or, well, it’s gonna cause quite a bit of anarky. And like I said, like the Joker says, I love me some chaos. Organized, disorganized, it’s all the same. Cause the only reason I’m here is to have fun. Sure, EPW World Heavyweight Championship, I’d love to call you my own, but I don’t need it. I’ve had my career. I’ve had my accomplishments. One more isn’t going to make all that great deal of a difference. But another match where I bleed crimson? Another match where my opponent tries to tear me apart at the fever pitch of the fans? Another match where I can do whatever I want and STILL be the face because this man is taking a few WORDS too far? And another match where people come out to see us brawl, not because of a title, not because we’re apart of a tournament, but because they really see us ripping each other’s arms off and beating the other with them, well, that’s just money in the bank. And not that silly ladder match that’s basically a briefcase on a pole with a ladder. No, it’s called ratings. It’s called heat. And it’s called bringing in new fans, fans that have never seen you Stalker, never seen me in that ring, and never seen EPW. Because with every new fan, my legacy, yours, and the federation we’re apart of, grows.
So go ahead. Tear off my leg at the knee. Try to cripple me. I know eventually, at some moment, in the heat of anger, you’re going to make a mistake, and I’m going to capitalize on it. I spent my career capitalizing on the mistakes of others, and you’re no different. Whether that mistake is under estimating me, thinking I’d play by the rules, or falling victim to your own vengeful bloodlust, we all make mistakes. I’m just the type of person who found out a way to make those mistakes work to my advantage.
By the way. After this match. Let’s get a beer. I can tell you how to get under people’s skin. You can tell me about your sister. Then afterwards, maybe we can… nah, what am I thinking? You’re crazy and prone to fits of anger.
(Flyer frowns. The camera zooms in on just his face.)
HIGH FLYER: Sounds like me five years ago. Maybe we have more in common than I thought. Y’know, with the deep psychological problems, the fractured familia state growing up, and the tendency for<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cford%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:RelyOnVML/> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cford%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cford%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w
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{page:Section1;} -->*</style> gross acts of intense violence. Let the blood letting begin, eh?
(FADEOUT.)
(FADEIN: Back in the Odessa Training Academy, Tony Davis and Mary-Lynn Mayweather are having what would amount to a match between two students, the larger and smaller from earlier in the week. Tony Davis is working over the smaller man with catch as catch can wrestling skills, reversing a hammerlock into one of his own. On the outside, High Flyer turns his attention away from the action in the ring going on in the background to the cameras, firmly pointed at him direct center.)
HIGH FLYER: Although… Now THAT, is the FURY, and the passion I was looking for. WOO boy. I can't wait till Aggression. Because there's something you don't know about me Bean Stalk. Ya see, I LOVEZ ME SOME ANARCHY. CHAOS, VENGEANCE, it's what makes the world go round, and round, and round. I don’t just know arm bars and figure four leg locks and springboard plancha’s. I know enough about this business to deal with the psychology of not just a match, but of a person’s mind. Believe me, I know what it’s like to be on the other side of the fence. To be furious with anger to the point of self detriment. To be willing to give everything you have in order to defeat your foe. And I know that a man fueled by vengeance is a man fueled by stupidity.
(Flyer smiles, a large, Cheshire cat like smile he’s long since been known for. He rubs his hands through his long green hair and takes in a deep breath.)
HIGH FLYER: Five years ago, I gave up the love of my life for a chance to defeat Craig Miles. You know Craig, the guy who chain smokes not just cigarettes in my view. A man who pushed me beyond the logical point of human emotion to one of pure hatred and vitriol. A man who made me say, no, Sorry Kate, sorry my wife, the mother of my children, but I would rather try to kill myself to defeat this Newport loving bastard than spend another moment with you. And y’know what happened? I jumped off the video tron and crashed through a table, completely missing my intended target. Craig pinned me that night, and I never thought I’d get another chance to avenge my loss. It was only after months of self reflection, loneliness, and a large plot that deceived the entire fan base of the organization that I was able to gain the upper hand. When I stripped myself of the fury and the anger I had, I was finally able to accomplish what I desired… his defeat, and the World Heavyweight Championship.
I spent years defending that belt, YEARS. And y’know what? While I lost my wife, I lost the ability to see the birth of my second child, I gained knowledge of this sport I never had. Knowledge I hope to pass onto you. That with great furious anger, comes nothing but regret and loss. Cause a hot blooded man full o' testosterone and a goal to kill, will not defeat his opponent. Might as well be an impotent mutilated armless homeless man begging for a brawl. You might get a bit of bloodletting, but you’re never going to be the same afterward.
(Flyer pulls out a cigarette from his back pocket and lit the tip. Mary-Lynn jumps off the apron and walks over to Flyer, slapping the cigarette out of your hand.)
HIGH FLYER: Hey!
MLM: I thought you quit.
HIGH FLYER: And I thought you were getting better. You’re letting Tony get double teamed!
MLM: You know we’re just running drills Jack.
HIGH FLYER: Yeah yeah.
(Flyer bends over and picks up his cigarette off the floor. He takes a drag, and sighs.)
HIGH FLYER: Eh, you’re right. Tastes like **** these days anyway.
(Flyer tosses it back to the floor.)
HIGH FLYER: Y’know, Stalk thinks I’m porkin’ ya.
MLM: As if.
HIGH FLYER: That’d be like porking my sister. Y’know, the one that’s still alive.
TONY DAVIS: YEAH!
(Tony shouts from a headlock, now at the mercy of the larger student in the ring.)
TONY DAVIS: That’s my job!
(Flyer winces, as Mary-Lynn climbs back on the apron.)
HIGH FLYER: Look, take my words personally. Do it. I want you to be out of your element. I want you to want revenge, not victory. Cause well, it’s either going to make you make a mistake, or, well, it’s gonna cause quite a bit of anarky. And like I said, like the Joker says, I love me some chaos. Organized, disorganized, it’s all the same. Cause the only reason I’m here is to have fun. Sure, EPW World Heavyweight Championship, I’d love to call you my own, but I don’t need it. I’ve had my career. I’ve had my accomplishments. One more isn’t going to make all that great deal of a difference. But another match where I bleed crimson? Another match where my opponent tries to tear me apart at the fever pitch of the fans? Another match where I can do whatever I want and STILL be the face because this man is taking a few WORDS too far? And another match where people come out to see us brawl, not because of a title, not because we’re apart of a tournament, but because they really see us ripping each other’s arms off and beating the other with them, well, that’s just money in the bank. And not that silly ladder match that’s basically a briefcase on a pole with a ladder. No, it’s called ratings. It’s called heat. And it’s called bringing in new fans, fans that have never seen you Stalker, never seen me in that ring, and never seen EPW. Because with every new fan, my legacy, yours, and the federation we’re apart of, grows.
So go ahead. Tear off my leg at the knee. Try to cripple me. I know eventually, at some moment, in the heat of anger, you’re going to make a mistake, and I’m going to capitalize on it. I spent my career capitalizing on the mistakes of others, and you’re no different. Whether that mistake is under estimating me, thinking I’d play by the rules, or falling victim to your own vengeful bloodlust, we all make mistakes. I’m just the type of person who found out a way to make those mistakes work to my advantage.
By the way. After this match. Let’s get a beer. I can tell you how to get under people’s skin. You can tell me about your sister. Then afterwards, maybe we can… nah, what am I thinking? You’re crazy and prone to fits of anger.
(Flyer frowns. The camera zooms in on just his face.)
HIGH FLYER: Sounds like me five years ago. Maybe we have more in common than I thought. Y’know, with the deep psychological problems, the fractured familia state growing up, and the tendency for<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cford%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:RelyOnVML/> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cford%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cford%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w
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{page:Section1;} -->*</style> gross acts of intense violence. Let the blood letting begin, eh?(FADEOUT.)
Stalker
I stalk, because I care
- Joined
- May 2, 2007
- Messages
- 894
- Points
- 18
- Age
- 40
(We fade in. Jason Reeves, looking to be about in his early 20s. He's standing over a table, filling out a form in what looks to be an old wrestling training center. Two men sitting behind the table look at him impatiently.)
Man #1: You almost done, kid?
Man #2: Yeah we have a ton of people waiting to sign up as well, just fill out the emergency contact info already.
(Jason looks behind him and then back at his paper and quickly scribbles something down on it. He hands it over to them and one of the men hands him a necklace with a number on it. Tossing it around his neck he starts to walk to the back of the line for the auditions.)
Man #2: Hey.. Hey Jason. Is this a hospital you put down for your contact info?
Jason: Yup.
(The man shakes his head and Jason keeps walking, he leans against the wall behind the line of what looks to be about twenty to thirty people. A brunette is standing in front of him, she looks to be the only female in the line and is looking very nervous she turns to Jason and smiles at him.)
Woman: So.. no family worth contacting, eh?
Jason: Nope.
Woman: Ah well, I kind of feel the same way except I always got along with my grandmother. She actually encouraged me to come here, said it would expand my horizons. I knew there wouldn't be many women here but being the only one so far, sheesh. I just hope Superior Championship Wrestling isn't bias towards female wrestlers.
Jason: Well if they are, they could always use you as a valet.
Woman: Ha ha, very funny. Sorry if my talking is bothering you, I just tend to talk alot when I get nervous, you know? Oh i'm such a twit, I didn't even introduce myself, my name's Riley. What's yours?
(She extends her hand and Jason looking half shocked from hearing that her name is Riley goes to shake her hand as we fade.)
Voice: One, two, three, here I come with the WICKED.
(Fading in to a loud bar outside of Seattle Washington. Cold is playing in the background and Jason Reeves is sipping from a beer at the bar counter. He nods the cameras over and throws his hand up ordering another beer.)
Stalker: I decided to take you up on your offer a little early, Flyer. Only thing is we won't be talking about my sister tonight. Or maybe we will. Who knows anymore right? I'm just a silly old Bean Stalk.
(The bartender places the beer in front of him and Jason finishes off the one he was on and hands it to him.)
Stalker: The good old feeling of getting drunk in public, how I have missed thee so much. It's hard for me to resist the urges anymore, I feel like I need to drink all the time to deal with the **** that gets jumbled up in my head. The losses, the family issues, the pure hatred and anger I have towards people like YOU. People like everyone in EPW but a select few. The ones who don't understand why I go into fits of rage and start speaking ass backwards about everything. I mean **** if matches were won by a cut down contest I am sure you would have this in the bag already. But they aren't, these matches are decided in the ring, and this ring happens to be in a cage. Where ANYTHING can happen. You like the anarchy, chaos and vengeance? Maybe i'll just have to show exactly what those three words are truly about. Maybe i'll bring a garbage can full of weapons, some lighter fluid, hell maybe i'll even slide a table or two into the cage before we begin. Does that sound as tasty to you, Flyer, as it does to me? Hell if you like Anarchy and Chaos that much, it should be mouth watering. You are also right about the vengeance, it is quite a double edged sword. I have lost many of matches, where my opponent has gotten under my skin so much, that I wanted nothing more then to rip them apart piece by piece and end them.... for good. It has at times also been quite a blessing. I ripped Rocko Daymon's belt RIGHT off of his waist the next show after he won it. I fought him, ALL over the ARENA, and what happened in the end? We fell two and a half stories, I messed up my leg, back, arm. You name it, I messed it up. Daymon however, completely broke his arm and was forced to drop his belt. That vengeance, THAT GRASP of it is what I plan to use against you. That little tiny bit of good that comes from it, that is what I will use directly against you. I won't lose my focus, I won't make a stupid mistake and I will not let you leave that cage as the victor of our match.
(Finishing off yet another beer, Jason throws his hand up for another. His cell rings and he picks it up as the bartender hands him another.)
Stalker: What?..... I told you I am not interested in talking right now..... IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HER...... Leave me alone.
(Jason puts the phone down after hanging it up and it rings again. He picks it up looks at it for a second and then tosses it against the mirrored glass, breaking the phone and making spider webs on the glass.)
Bartender: What the hell man?!
(Slamming a wad of cash on the table, Jason looks at the bartender who just shakes his head as he grabs the money.)
Stalker: Keep the beers coming. It's a shame, Flyer, it really is. I honestly didn't know how much alike we really were. You gave up the love of your life to beat a man? You turned your back on your woman to 'stalk' another wrestler until you finally got the chance to beat him. You lost your kids, your life, your love.... just to beat that one man? That's some dedication I must tell you. However, that means we are nothing alike. My love, my LIFE was lost when my wife left me when I couldn't provide anymore for her. I couldn't provide anything more for her because I was hurt, frustrated and screwed out of my last chance for success in SCW. Screwed by none other then the man I destroyed Rocko Daymon. It's funny how you think i'll make some silly mistake like completely missing my target, like you did years ago. I'm not Craig Miles, I won't underestimate you. That's how you finally got him back right? He didn't see you coming? Well guess what I see you coming full speed, and i'm coming full speed right back at you. We are like two ****ing freight trains on a collision course with each other with no road block in sight. RIGHT? REALLY?
(Laughing at his funny, Jason finishes off yet another beer and goes to open another one. The bartender gives him a dirty look and Jason reaches into his pocket and tosses him the keys.)
Stalker: Happy now?
(The bartender laughs and shakes his head yes as he places the keys on the hook behind the counter.)
Stalker: It's a good thing they do that. I probably would've died a long time ago. Or at the very least had something happen to me, much like what happened to Fusenshoff. I mean but honestly, if you have never seen a man with enough pure hatred in his heart to light a room on fire with his mind, beat a man with that anger? Then you obviously don't listen very well to the peers around you. Fusenshoff for example. Almost a year of torturing him drove him to the point of pure hatred of me and where as we never had a match to finally finish our differences, he put me on the ground that one fateful night and walked away the victor. Has he been the same since? Of course not, but THAT is what I wanted to show him. I wanted to show him, what it's like to be US. To have nothing, to have the fans look down at you. To know what it feels like, to lose everything that you love and will have ever loved time and... time again....
(Jason's eyes start to water up as he wipes his face with a napkin quickly. He gulps down the rest of the beer and goes for yet another.)
Stalker: Anyways. It's good to know Mary Lynn is open for business. I might want to take advantage of that. Since obviously you have your hands filled with Tony, if you know what i'm saying.
(The bartender bursts out laughing and Jason gives him an icy look and he quickly takes the hint and walks away.)
Stalker: It's getting closer and closer and I simply can not wait. Our match will be the highlight of the night, Flyer. Because I will tear your leg off at the knee, I will make you bleed crimson and I will do all of that in my sole effort to reestablish my career to win ANOTHER heavyweight championship and you are just the first to be in my way. Welcome to my world. Hope you enjoy your stay.
(The bartender brings over another two bottles as Jason finishes the one he was on. The camera slowly fades to black.)
Man #1: You almost done, kid?
Man #2: Yeah we have a ton of people waiting to sign up as well, just fill out the emergency contact info already.
(Jason looks behind him and then back at his paper and quickly scribbles something down on it. He hands it over to them and one of the men hands him a necklace with a number on it. Tossing it around his neck he starts to walk to the back of the line for the auditions.)
Man #2: Hey.. Hey Jason. Is this a hospital you put down for your contact info?
Jason: Yup.
(The man shakes his head and Jason keeps walking, he leans against the wall behind the line of what looks to be about twenty to thirty people. A brunette is standing in front of him, she looks to be the only female in the line and is looking very nervous she turns to Jason and smiles at him.)
Woman: So.. no family worth contacting, eh?
Jason: Nope.
Woman: Ah well, I kind of feel the same way except I always got along with my grandmother. She actually encouraged me to come here, said it would expand my horizons. I knew there wouldn't be many women here but being the only one so far, sheesh. I just hope Superior Championship Wrestling isn't bias towards female wrestlers.
Jason: Well if they are, they could always use you as a valet.
Woman: Ha ha, very funny. Sorry if my talking is bothering you, I just tend to talk alot when I get nervous, you know? Oh i'm such a twit, I didn't even introduce myself, my name's Riley. What's yours?
(She extends her hand and Jason looking half shocked from hearing that her name is Riley goes to shake her hand as we fade.)
Voice: One, two, three, here I come with the WICKED.
(Fading in to a loud bar outside of Seattle Washington. Cold is playing in the background and Jason Reeves is sipping from a beer at the bar counter. He nods the cameras over and throws his hand up ordering another beer.)
Stalker: I decided to take you up on your offer a little early, Flyer. Only thing is we won't be talking about my sister tonight. Or maybe we will. Who knows anymore right? I'm just a silly old Bean Stalk.
(The bartender places the beer in front of him and Jason finishes off the one he was on and hands it to him.)
Stalker: The good old feeling of getting drunk in public, how I have missed thee so much. It's hard for me to resist the urges anymore, I feel like I need to drink all the time to deal with the **** that gets jumbled up in my head. The losses, the family issues, the pure hatred and anger I have towards people like YOU. People like everyone in EPW but a select few. The ones who don't understand why I go into fits of rage and start speaking ass backwards about everything. I mean **** if matches were won by a cut down contest I am sure you would have this in the bag already. But they aren't, these matches are decided in the ring, and this ring happens to be in a cage. Where ANYTHING can happen. You like the anarchy, chaos and vengeance? Maybe i'll just have to show exactly what those three words are truly about. Maybe i'll bring a garbage can full of weapons, some lighter fluid, hell maybe i'll even slide a table or two into the cage before we begin. Does that sound as tasty to you, Flyer, as it does to me? Hell if you like Anarchy and Chaos that much, it should be mouth watering. You are also right about the vengeance, it is quite a double edged sword. I have lost many of matches, where my opponent has gotten under my skin so much, that I wanted nothing more then to rip them apart piece by piece and end them.... for good. It has at times also been quite a blessing. I ripped Rocko Daymon's belt RIGHT off of his waist the next show after he won it. I fought him, ALL over the ARENA, and what happened in the end? We fell two and a half stories, I messed up my leg, back, arm. You name it, I messed it up. Daymon however, completely broke his arm and was forced to drop his belt. That vengeance, THAT GRASP of it is what I plan to use against you. That little tiny bit of good that comes from it, that is what I will use directly against you. I won't lose my focus, I won't make a stupid mistake and I will not let you leave that cage as the victor of our match.
(Finishing off yet another beer, Jason throws his hand up for another. His cell rings and he picks it up as the bartender hands him another.)
Stalker: What?..... I told you I am not interested in talking right now..... IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HER...... Leave me alone.
(Jason puts the phone down after hanging it up and it rings again. He picks it up looks at it for a second and then tosses it against the mirrored glass, breaking the phone and making spider webs on the glass.)
Bartender: What the hell man?!
(Slamming a wad of cash on the table, Jason looks at the bartender who just shakes his head as he grabs the money.)
Stalker: Keep the beers coming. It's a shame, Flyer, it really is. I honestly didn't know how much alike we really were. You gave up the love of your life to beat a man? You turned your back on your woman to 'stalk' another wrestler until you finally got the chance to beat him. You lost your kids, your life, your love.... just to beat that one man? That's some dedication I must tell you. However, that means we are nothing alike. My love, my LIFE was lost when my wife left me when I couldn't provide anymore for her. I couldn't provide anything more for her because I was hurt, frustrated and screwed out of my last chance for success in SCW. Screwed by none other then the man I destroyed Rocko Daymon. It's funny how you think i'll make some silly mistake like completely missing my target, like you did years ago. I'm not Craig Miles, I won't underestimate you. That's how you finally got him back right? He didn't see you coming? Well guess what I see you coming full speed, and i'm coming full speed right back at you. We are like two ****ing freight trains on a collision course with each other with no road block in sight. RIGHT? REALLY?
(Laughing at his funny, Jason finishes off yet another beer and goes to open another one. The bartender gives him a dirty look and Jason reaches into his pocket and tosses him the keys.)
Stalker: Happy now?
(The bartender laughs and shakes his head yes as he places the keys on the hook behind the counter.)
Stalker: It's a good thing they do that. I probably would've died a long time ago. Or at the very least had something happen to me, much like what happened to Fusenshoff. I mean but honestly, if you have never seen a man with enough pure hatred in his heart to light a room on fire with his mind, beat a man with that anger? Then you obviously don't listen very well to the peers around you. Fusenshoff for example. Almost a year of torturing him drove him to the point of pure hatred of me and where as we never had a match to finally finish our differences, he put me on the ground that one fateful night and walked away the victor. Has he been the same since? Of course not, but THAT is what I wanted to show him. I wanted to show him, what it's like to be US. To have nothing, to have the fans look down at you. To know what it feels like, to lose everything that you love and will have ever loved time and... time again....
(Jason's eyes start to water up as he wipes his face with a napkin quickly. He gulps down the rest of the beer and goes for yet another.)
Stalker: Anyways. It's good to know Mary Lynn is open for business. I might want to take advantage of that. Since obviously you have your hands filled with Tony, if you know what i'm saying.
(The bartender bursts out laughing and Jason gives him an icy look and he quickly takes the hint and walks away.)
Stalker: It's getting closer and closer and I simply can not wait. Our match will be the highlight of the night, Flyer. Because I will tear your leg off at the knee, I will make you bleed crimson and I will do all of that in my sole effort to reestablish my career to win ANOTHER heavyweight championship and you are just the first to be in my way. Welcome to my world. Hope you enjoy your stay.
(The bartender brings over another two bottles as Jason finishes the one he was on. The camera slowly fades to black.)