AGGRESSION 54: KOTC Rd. 3 - High Flyer vs. Anarky
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
JLevinson
Diva Tree
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 707
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- Age
- 43
(FADEIN to an empty locker room long after everyone has left. All the lockers are cleared out and the lights are dim. Anarky is walking slowly beside the lockers, running his hands across them, lost in thought. Dried blood still covers parts of his face.)
ANARKY: “One week, you find yourself up against a monster with everything to prove, the kind of man who can throw you up against a cage wall and laugh with gusto as your body collapses to the ground, broken and mangled. Confident with youth and success, with devastating power… a man would be lucky to escape the cage.
“Another week, he may find himself against one of the only wrestlers in the world with a longer, more decorated history than himself.
“ High Flyer… I’m not going to pretend to understand you or care about what kind of man you are. I don’t really give a flying f*ck about the history you bring to this sport. Or what you hope to accomplish in your time left. I know damn well the desperation it can make a man feel.”
(He stops and looks at an old locker and runs his fingers along it. The camera pans to his back and we can see him slowly running his fingers along an old, scratched up anarchy symbol. He seems lost in thought for a second.)
ANARKY: “There comes a time in a man’s life when he can only look back at all the wreckage and mayhem he has caused… and all of the misery he has sown… and wondered what it was all for.
“Every vengeful moment taught us nothing… my opponents as ignorant as ever… for all I hoped to teach, for all I thought I’d known, I have nothing to show for it.
“Even now.. I am surrounded by children. Children who believe they are gods. Who think they are bigger than the sport they serve. Who believe they are greater even than Empire Pro.
“I can’t claim to know what kind of man you are, High Flyer. Side show freak or risk-taking maniac. It matters not.
“I have come to find that there is something else that still drives me… something beyond the violence… something beyond the vengeance.
"I won’t lie… there have been times when I have relished in the anguish… when I have bathed in their blood and known that I was something monstrous…
“But even in this… even at my worst, I never pretended to be something I was not. I never claimed to be better than this sport. I never sold Anarky as a brand. I never claimed to be anything but a f*cked up guy tryin’ to make a livin’ doin’ what he does best.
“And for the last 14 years, I’ve had to listen to snot-nosed punks try to label me, box me, try to dismiss me, try to dismiss everything… every half-wit, every primadonna, every selfish little pr*ck who thinks they’re ABOVE Empire Pro.
“It don’t matter what you did, High Flyer.. it don’t matter how things were in fWo or Prime or anywhere else, and it don’t matter what I did in CSWA or WFW or NGEN or anywhere else… that sh*t is the past…
“Empire Pro is the epitome of professional wrestling. Even our low-level champs could tear the heads off of some of the so-called ‘greatest’ in other leagues… I say this not as some flag-bearer, but as a man who has witnessed a golden age… a man who has seen the ascent of talent, of devotion…
“And even as all this has happened, we have lost our way… we have lost our souls.
“We imagined ourselves bigger than the sports. We imagined ourselves bigger than the titles. We tore each other down with our words, we dismissed everything our opponents did, we pretended never to be impressed, never to show respect, never even to treat anybody as human…
“I’ve grown sick and tired of it all. The posturing, the slandering… but most of all, High Flyer, it’s the ascent of the self, the ego, the glory of the name.. it sickens me…
“Empire Pro deserves more than that… it deserves more than First, who has turned this entire f*cking league into a testament of his own journey… once again, we are stuck with a man who views himself as more than what he represents…
“And wherever there is a man who thinks he is a god… wherever there is a wrestler who believes he has risen above, that he is a King…
“… I will be there to find him… to drag him down to my level… to show him his humanity.
“And if it puts a smile on my face… if the blood is spilled and the no quarter is given… and they call me a monster..
“So be it…
“… someone has to do it.”
(FADEOUT.)
ANARKY: “One week, you find yourself up against a monster with everything to prove, the kind of man who can throw you up against a cage wall and laugh with gusto as your body collapses to the ground, broken and mangled. Confident with youth and success, with devastating power… a man would be lucky to escape the cage.
“Another week, he may find himself against one of the only wrestlers in the world with a longer, more decorated history than himself.
“ High Flyer… I’m not going to pretend to understand you or care about what kind of man you are. I don’t really give a flying f*ck about the history you bring to this sport. Or what you hope to accomplish in your time left. I know damn well the desperation it can make a man feel.”
(He stops and looks at an old locker and runs his fingers along it. The camera pans to his back and we can see him slowly running his fingers along an old, scratched up anarchy symbol. He seems lost in thought for a second.)
ANARKY: “There comes a time in a man’s life when he can only look back at all the wreckage and mayhem he has caused… and all of the misery he has sown… and wondered what it was all for.
“Every vengeful moment taught us nothing… my opponents as ignorant as ever… for all I hoped to teach, for all I thought I’d known, I have nothing to show for it.
“Even now.. I am surrounded by children. Children who believe they are gods. Who think they are bigger than the sport they serve. Who believe they are greater even than Empire Pro.
“I can’t claim to know what kind of man you are, High Flyer. Side show freak or risk-taking maniac. It matters not.
“I have come to find that there is something else that still drives me… something beyond the violence… something beyond the vengeance.
"I won’t lie… there have been times when I have relished in the anguish… when I have bathed in their blood and known that I was something monstrous…
“But even in this… even at my worst, I never pretended to be something I was not. I never claimed to be better than this sport. I never sold Anarky as a brand. I never claimed to be anything but a f*cked up guy tryin’ to make a livin’ doin’ what he does best.
“And for the last 14 years, I’ve had to listen to snot-nosed punks try to label me, box me, try to dismiss me, try to dismiss everything… every half-wit, every primadonna, every selfish little pr*ck who thinks they’re ABOVE Empire Pro.
“It don’t matter what you did, High Flyer.. it don’t matter how things were in fWo or Prime or anywhere else, and it don’t matter what I did in CSWA or WFW or NGEN or anywhere else… that sh*t is the past…
“Empire Pro is the epitome of professional wrestling. Even our low-level champs could tear the heads off of some of the so-called ‘greatest’ in other leagues… I say this not as some flag-bearer, but as a man who has witnessed a golden age… a man who has seen the ascent of talent, of devotion…
“And even as all this has happened, we have lost our way… we have lost our souls.
“We imagined ourselves bigger than the sports. We imagined ourselves bigger than the titles. We tore each other down with our words, we dismissed everything our opponents did, we pretended never to be impressed, never to show respect, never even to treat anybody as human…
“I’ve grown sick and tired of it all. The posturing, the slandering… but most of all, High Flyer, it’s the ascent of the self, the ego, the glory of the name.. it sickens me…
“Empire Pro deserves more than that… it deserves more than First, who has turned this entire f*cking league into a testament of his own journey… once again, we are stuck with a man who views himself as more than what he represents…
“And wherever there is a man who thinks he is a god… wherever there is a wrestler who believes he has risen above, that he is a King…
“… I will be there to find him… to drag him down to my level… to show him his humanity.
“And if it puts a smile on my face… if the blood is spilled and the no quarter is given… and they call me a monster..
“So be it…
“… someone has to do it.”
(FADEOUT.)
JLevinson
Diva Tree
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 707
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 43
(FADEIN to the Kansas City skyline. The sun is setting majestically. CUTTO: A park bench in Shawnee Mission Park. Anarky is sitting there in street clothes, sans makeup, smoking a cigarette, watching an old man feed bread to ducks a few benches away.)
ANARKY: “You ever ask yourself, after all these years, High Flyer… what if I’d never strapped on those boots? What if I’d never walked this path? What if I was just an old man with an old wife who sit at the park feeding ducks?
“Would that have been better? Could I have been happy doing that? Did we choose the wrong path?
“Or are we mad… are we simply incapable of being normal. Is our penchant for violence and annihilation too great to deny.
“Some say I’m a monster… others say I’ve turned my back on the violence and now I’m pretending to be a hero… the truth is always more complicated, isn’t it? More layered.
“The truth is… sometimes, I am a monster. Sometimes I wish only for vengeance. Sometimes I wish only to punish my opponents for the sins they’ve committed… against themselves, against me, against this sport. Sometimes… I relish in it. There is no purity, no justice… only misery.
“And other times… am I not the harbinger of justice? Am I not carrying its scythe? Have I not punished the wicked and proud?”
(He stops for a moment and gazes out before he stands up and puts out the cigarette. He takes a few steps and stops, watching a scene before him. A child is trying to approach a duck and her mother grabs her rather viciously, yanking her away. The child cries and tries to escape her clutches as she’s dragged away rather forcefully.)
ANARKY: “Who are the monsters? The men who lace up their boots… who pill blood for the masses… who pay the price for all of our bloodlust?
“Or is it you.. .at home… crying for more… as you beat your kid… as you beat your wife… as you watch the next game show, the next reality show, the next Jersey Shore, anything to stop thinking, anything not to have to concern yourselves, anything to avoid the reality of who you are…
“But I am the monster…
“I can feel a great storm rising, High Flyer. And I fear you have not taken this seriously. If, in fact, you have ever taken anything seriously. I know not from your previous material whether you even care. Whether you’ll even notice anybody else with your hilarious entourage.
“The seeds of change have been planted, and the King has been dethroned, but this, this is just a step… it is the annihilation of the ego, the destruction of the self, the erasure of desire, that is what matters… to desire is to suffer, yes?
“The First stands up now, the anointed King, perhaps, for a day. For a lifetime, we don’t truly know.
“All I know is that he’s turned this league into a f*cking joke… and I’m not laughing. He doesn’t know it yet. He feels it in his bones, but he can’t articulate it. He knows he’s a fraud. And he knows I’m coming.
“But first… first, High Flyer… it is our time. The King of the Cage Semi-Finals. The next step towards the dawn of a new era.
“So what will it be, then, High Flyer? Will you come and dance? Will you come to me, proud and loud, confident and certain?
“Or is this just a consolation prize to you… is this just a joke. Do you even care at all. Can you even be bothered.
“I don’t know, High Flyer. The last time we were scheduled to meet, you didn’t bother. This time, will you? Am I important enough to rate in your busy schedule? Does Empire Pro even make it on your radar?
“And if it doesn’t… if I’m not worthy… if you can’t be bothered…
“… then tell me, High Flyer…
“… how do you expect to be King.”
(FADEOUT.)
ANARKY: “You ever ask yourself, after all these years, High Flyer… what if I’d never strapped on those boots? What if I’d never walked this path? What if I was just an old man with an old wife who sit at the park feeding ducks?
“Would that have been better? Could I have been happy doing that? Did we choose the wrong path?
“Or are we mad… are we simply incapable of being normal. Is our penchant for violence and annihilation too great to deny.
“Some say I’m a monster… others say I’ve turned my back on the violence and now I’m pretending to be a hero… the truth is always more complicated, isn’t it? More layered.
“The truth is… sometimes, I am a monster. Sometimes I wish only for vengeance. Sometimes I wish only to punish my opponents for the sins they’ve committed… against themselves, against me, against this sport. Sometimes… I relish in it. There is no purity, no justice… only misery.
“And other times… am I not the harbinger of justice? Am I not carrying its scythe? Have I not punished the wicked and proud?”
(He stops for a moment and gazes out before he stands up and puts out the cigarette. He takes a few steps and stops, watching a scene before him. A child is trying to approach a duck and her mother grabs her rather viciously, yanking her away. The child cries and tries to escape her clutches as she’s dragged away rather forcefully.)
ANARKY: “Who are the monsters? The men who lace up their boots… who pill blood for the masses… who pay the price for all of our bloodlust?
“Or is it you.. .at home… crying for more… as you beat your kid… as you beat your wife… as you watch the next game show, the next reality show, the next Jersey Shore, anything to stop thinking, anything not to have to concern yourselves, anything to avoid the reality of who you are…
“But I am the monster…
“I can feel a great storm rising, High Flyer. And I fear you have not taken this seriously. If, in fact, you have ever taken anything seriously. I know not from your previous material whether you even care. Whether you’ll even notice anybody else with your hilarious entourage.
“The seeds of change have been planted, and the King has been dethroned, but this, this is just a step… it is the annihilation of the ego, the destruction of the self, the erasure of desire, that is what matters… to desire is to suffer, yes?
“The First stands up now, the anointed King, perhaps, for a day. For a lifetime, we don’t truly know.
“All I know is that he’s turned this league into a f*cking joke… and I’m not laughing. He doesn’t know it yet. He feels it in his bones, but he can’t articulate it. He knows he’s a fraud. And he knows I’m coming.
“But first… first, High Flyer… it is our time. The King of the Cage Semi-Finals. The next step towards the dawn of a new era.
“So what will it be, then, High Flyer? Will you come and dance? Will you come to me, proud and loud, confident and certain?
“Or is this just a consolation prize to you… is this just a joke. Do you even care at all. Can you even be bothered.
“I don’t know, High Flyer. The last time we were scheduled to meet, you didn’t bother. This time, will you? Am I important enough to rate in your busy schedule? Does Empire Pro even make it on your radar?
“And if it doesn’t… if I’m not worthy… if you can’t be bothered…
“… then tell me, High Flyer…
“… how do you expect to be King.”
(FADEOUT.)
- Joined
- Jan 6, 2005
- Messages
- 1,076
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 40
- Location
- Los Angeles, CA, formerly PA
- Website
- www.genlmnop.com
(BLACK VIDEO MATTE.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): The human body is a miraculous thing.
(FADE IN. A hospital’s surgery room. Two doctors and a few nurses surround a small child, no more than ten years of age. They seem to be working feverishly. A constant beep is heard in the background as medical equipment monitors the boy’s vitals.
Beep. Beep.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): Paper cut? Few days it closes up. Broken bones? Reset the fracture and give it a few weeks. Prostate cancer? Get a beam of radiation aimed at your junk and pray for the best.
Doctor: Can you hold that layer of skin, yeah…
(Beep. Beep. A nurse uses a clamp on the boys stomach.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): I was just reading an article about a zombie apocalypse. About how such a thing is non sense, not because of the fact that infectious disease that needs a bite to be transferred is fatally flawed in design, but the fact that an undead corpse mumbling and rambling about doesn’t have the almost Christ like ability of resurrection. The ability to close even the simplest of wounds with time. You find a zombie strain that can regenerate human tissue like a worm does as the dead decays, you’ve got one valid scary Zombie Apocalypse on your hands.
(The doctors continue their operating on the small child. Overhead, in a small viewing area, is a worried and stressed out brunette, twirling a cigarette in her dainty hands. She stands, refusing to sit, as a small girl plays with a Barbie on the old shag carpet.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): What does that have to do with me? Well, let’s just say I’m a broken and tattered individual. My wounds from Stalker are still not healed, and my stupidity to jump off a cage to defeat Fusenshoff last week has severely crippled me. I’m hobbling around like Dr. House, acting just as curmudgeonly as Mr. Laurie.
(Beep. Beep. The brunette places the cigarette in her lips and attempts to light it, but restrains herself due to the hospitals no smoking policy. Torn between fleeing and watching the operation below, she is a ball of potential energy, just waiting to be turned kinetic.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): But all the physical pain in the world is nothing compared to the pain of seeing your child helpless for the first time.
(The door to the observation room swings open, smashing against the back wall due to the lack of a door stopper. The brunette is startled and turns to see the source of the noise. Her face turns into that of a scowl before she turns her attention back to the operating table. The little girl playing with her Barbie chucks it aside and rushes up, hugging him around his shin. She’s not even three.
Flyer lets out a wince as she latches on. She’s clutching his injured leg.)
“Daddy!”
High Flyer: Hi Kate.
(Flyer waves his hand to his ex-wife, who responds rather cold.)
KATE: Jack.
(She turns sweet as she looks down at her little girl.)
KATE: Sweetie, let go of him.
(The little girl shakes her head from side to side.)
HIGH FLYER: It’s okay. She’s only seen me a few times, let her. I can fight through the pain.
KATE: It’s not for your sake. I’m y’know, disciplining her? Something you neglected to do with Allocca.
(Kate sighs)
Kate: I can’t believe I let you name him that.
(Kate turns her back to Flyer and continues to watch the operation below. With his daughter clutching his shin, he awkwardly lumbers over to her side. Cue the long awkward pause.)
HIGH FLYER: How’s he doing?
KATE: Fine. So far.
(Both Kate and Flyer continue to watch from above in silence. The heart monitor BEEPS, BEEP.)
KATE: You look like ****.
HIGH FLYER: Nice to see you too.
(BEEP. BEEP.)
HIGH FLYER: Y’know, I’m wrestling this guy named Anarky, yeah?
(Kate frowns, biting her bottom lip as Flyer continues.)
HIGH FLYER: And beyond the fact that he assumes I like reality television, which I don’t, you know that all too well… which, by the way, you aren’t letting Jess watch Jersey Shore, right?
(Kate blinks.)
KATE: So, while our son is on the operating table you question my television viewing habits?
HIGH FLYER: Wrong time. But he asked me something, it really got me thinking. I was lying in my bed recouping from being thrown off the top of a steel cage one week, and then jumping off the steel cage the next.
(Kate’s eyes narrow. She looks at Flyer out of the corner of her eye but quickly reverts her attention back to the surgery, seemingly ignoring the Lunatic.)
HIGH FLYER: He asked if I made the right decision. Y’know, to be a wrestler, to have this so called legacy. He asked me whether I’d be happier as an old married couple, sitting in a park feeding ducks, which, by the way, what old person still feeds ducks? And I realized, I am just as bit of a monster as he is.
KATE: You got that right.
HIGH FLYER: But then I think back to the good times, when we were on the road together, and for the last six years I’ve been trying to recapture that feeling.
(Flyer shakes his head.)
HIGH FLYER: And I think to myself now, sure. If I could go back and change it all I would, but I can’t. Time can not be dramatically altered no matter how many time machines you have. So, all I can do now is try to lift my foot and put it forward. To be a better man.
KATE: I’ve heard this before. Can you stop with the repeats?
HIGH FLYER: But I still know that I want to be a professional wrestler. If I could go back and change things, I wouldn’t change that. Ever. Because I don’t think you’d have ever fallen in love with me without that. And I’ll take our brief time together over no time at all. Jess… Allocca… deny it all you will but I wasn’t on your radar until I was a wrestler, and without the sport… they wouldn’t be here.
KATE: Why are you even here. It’s just an appendectomy.
(Flyer frowns.)
HIGH FLYER: Cause I’m his father. My days as a wrestler are nearing their end. I only have so many chances left to hear him cheer my name. So I’m gonna win the King of the Cage for him.
(Flyer rustles his daughter’s curls.)
HIGH FLYER: Just to make him happy.
(OVER THE SHOULDER, Kate and Flyer stand about a foot apart. Flyer goes to extend his hand to Kate as Kate taps her foot impatiently. Seeing no response, Flyer freezes, and slowly lowers his hand back to his daughter. The camera CRANES skyward and FADES OUT.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): The human body is a miraculous thing.
(FADE IN. A hospital’s surgery room. Two doctors and a few nurses surround a small child, no more than ten years of age. They seem to be working feverishly. A constant beep is heard in the background as medical equipment monitors the boy’s vitals.
Beep. Beep.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): Paper cut? Few days it closes up. Broken bones? Reset the fracture and give it a few weeks. Prostate cancer? Get a beam of radiation aimed at your junk and pray for the best.
Doctor: Can you hold that layer of skin, yeah…
(Beep. Beep. A nurse uses a clamp on the boys stomach.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): I was just reading an article about a zombie apocalypse. About how such a thing is non sense, not because of the fact that infectious disease that needs a bite to be transferred is fatally flawed in design, but the fact that an undead corpse mumbling and rambling about doesn’t have the almost Christ like ability of resurrection. The ability to close even the simplest of wounds with time. You find a zombie strain that can regenerate human tissue like a worm does as the dead decays, you’ve got one valid scary Zombie Apocalypse on your hands.
(The doctors continue their operating on the small child. Overhead, in a small viewing area, is a worried and stressed out brunette, twirling a cigarette in her dainty hands. She stands, refusing to sit, as a small girl plays with a Barbie on the old shag carpet.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): What does that have to do with me? Well, let’s just say I’m a broken and tattered individual. My wounds from Stalker are still not healed, and my stupidity to jump off a cage to defeat Fusenshoff last week has severely crippled me. I’m hobbling around like Dr. House, acting just as curmudgeonly as Mr. Laurie.
(Beep. Beep. The brunette places the cigarette in her lips and attempts to light it, but restrains herself due to the hospitals no smoking policy. Torn between fleeing and watching the operation below, she is a ball of potential energy, just waiting to be turned kinetic.)
HIGH FLYER(V.O.): But all the physical pain in the world is nothing compared to the pain of seeing your child helpless for the first time.
(The door to the observation room swings open, smashing against the back wall due to the lack of a door stopper. The brunette is startled and turns to see the source of the noise. Her face turns into that of a scowl before she turns her attention back to the operating table. The little girl playing with her Barbie chucks it aside and rushes up, hugging him around his shin. She’s not even three.
Flyer lets out a wince as she latches on. She’s clutching his injured leg.)
“Daddy!”
High Flyer: Hi Kate.
(Flyer waves his hand to his ex-wife, who responds rather cold.)
KATE: Jack.
(She turns sweet as she looks down at her little girl.)
KATE: Sweetie, let go of him.
(The little girl shakes her head from side to side.)
HIGH FLYER: It’s okay. She’s only seen me a few times, let her. I can fight through the pain.
KATE: It’s not for your sake. I’m y’know, disciplining her? Something you neglected to do with Allocca.
(Kate sighs)
Kate: I can’t believe I let you name him that.
(Kate turns her back to Flyer and continues to watch the operation below. With his daughter clutching his shin, he awkwardly lumbers over to her side. Cue the long awkward pause.)
HIGH FLYER: How’s he doing?
KATE: Fine. So far.
(Both Kate and Flyer continue to watch from above in silence. The heart monitor BEEPS, BEEP.)
KATE: You look like ****.
HIGH FLYER: Nice to see you too.
(BEEP. BEEP.)
HIGH FLYER: Y’know, I’m wrestling this guy named Anarky, yeah?
(Kate frowns, biting her bottom lip as Flyer continues.)
HIGH FLYER: And beyond the fact that he assumes I like reality television, which I don’t, you know that all too well… which, by the way, you aren’t letting Jess watch Jersey Shore, right?
(Kate blinks.)
KATE: So, while our son is on the operating table you question my television viewing habits?
HIGH FLYER: Wrong time. But he asked me something, it really got me thinking. I was lying in my bed recouping from being thrown off the top of a steel cage one week, and then jumping off the steel cage the next.
(Kate’s eyes narrow. She looks at Flyer out of the corner of her eye but quickly reverts her attention back to the surgery, seemingly ignoring the Lunatic.)
HIGH FLYER: He asked if I made the right decision. Y’know, to be a wrestler, to have this so called legacy. He asked me whether I’d be happier as an old married couple, sitting in a park feeding ducks, which, by the way, what old person still feeds ducks? And I realized, I am just as bit of a monster as he is.
KATE: You got that right.
HIGH FLYER: But then I think back to the good times, when we were on the road together, and for the last six years I’ve been trying to recapture that feeling.
(Flyer shakes his head.)
HIGH FLYER: And I think to myself now, sure. If I could go back and change it all I would, but I can’t. Time can not be dramatically altered no matter how many time machines you have. So, all I can do now is try to lift my foot and put it forward. To be a better man.
KATE: I’ve heard this before. Can you stop with the repeats?
HIGH FLYER: But I still know that I want to be a professional wrestler. If I could go back and change things, I wouldn’t change that. Ever. Because I don’t think you’d have ever fallen in love with me without that. And I’ll take our brief time together over no time at all. Jess… Allocca… deny it all you will but I wasn’t on your radar until I was a wrestler, and without the sport… they wouldn’t be here.
KATE: Why are you even here. It’s just an appendectomy.
(Flyer frowns.)
HIGH FLYER: Cause I’m his father. My days as a wrestler are nearing their end. I only have so many chances left to hear him cheer my name. So I’m gonna win the King of the Cage for him.
(Flyer rustles his daughter’s curls.)
HIGH FLYER: Just to make him happy.
(OVER THE SHOULDER, Kate and Flyer stand about a foot apart. Flyer goes to extend his hand to Kate as Kate taps her foot impatiently. Seeing no response, Flyer freezes, and slowly lowers his hand back to his daughter. The camera CRANES skyward and FADES OUT.)