Great Lakes Title Match: Maelstrom vs. Nikolai Ash

[TBirdSCIL]

Please keep all RP for this match in this folder...

 

[JLebron]

Controversial views.....

[updated:LAST EDITED ON Mar-11-03 AT 08:23 PM (EST)](FADE IN.... to an empty arena where we see Tony Ross and GLCW Heavyweight Champion Maelstrom standing in front of the arena's ring apron. Maelstrom glares at us impassively as he folds his huge arms across his massive chest. The GLCW title is slung carelessly across his front shoulder with the gold-plated part of the belt seemingly staring at us as well....)

TONY ROSS: Hello everyone, I'm Tony Ross and I'm here with GLCW Heavyweight Champion Maelstrom who has recently made his first successful title defense in a 4-way match against former champion, the man he dethroned, Mike Manson, as well as Jean Rabesque and Sean Edmunds. Maelstrom, that was a very precarious type of match even for someone like you. How do you feel about retaining against them?

MAELSTROM: Nothin' to feel, three men tried to walk into the ring with one thing in mind, to capture THIS! (slaps the GLCW title which lays on his shoulder) And they ALL failed.

TONY ROSS: A match of that caliber with three men simultaneously vying to strip you of that title..... had they put all their differences aside and all temporarily allied against you we could have possibly witnessed the crowning of a new champion.

MAELSTROM: Anything is possible, but why bother speculatin' on somethin' that's already moot? I'm no stranger at defying the odds, I just proved it by endurin' the combined efforts of Manson, Raby and Edmunds an' I prove it just about every time someone interferes in my match. I'm still the man holding the prize that everyone wants.

TONY ROSS: Kind of interesting choice of words considering that your next opponent just happens to be the ONLY man in the GLCW to hold a victory over you in singles competition.

(Maelstrom narrows his eyes and slowly turns toward Tony and glares at him. Tony gets noticeably uncomfortable until he sees the faint smile emerge upon Maelstrom's lips)

TONY ROSS: Well um, the loss technically was ruled a "count-out" win for him after Manson interfered but it's officially a win nonetheless.

MAELSTROM: No need to try an' downplay Ash's victory over me.... A win is a win by any an' all means. It's all good though, cuz while he DID manage to get the 'W' over me that night, as it stands right now, it's only a statistical accomplishment at best.

TONY ROSS: I don't quite follow.

(narrows his eyes angrily and regards Ross briefly)

MAELSTROM: He may have been awarded the victory that night, but he failed to prove to me, let alone anyone else that night, that he truly was the better man.

TONY ROSS: I don't mean to sound facetious Maelstrom, but wasn't it you who were just telling me just a moment ago NOT to downplay Ash's victory against you? And now aren't you kind of doing the same thing? Some might even claim you were rationalizing your loss?

MAELSTROM: Rationalizing? (raises an eyebrow as he feigns pondering that same question) Not quite Ross. I'm just telling it exactly how it is. Sure, Ash was awarded the victory, no one is disputing that fact.... problem is he didn't capture the victory by "beating" me.

TONY ROSS: Are you trying to insinuate that it was a hollow victory for Ash that night?

MAELSTROM: No.... YOU are! I'm not taking anything away from Ash's abilities, but the simple fact remains, he didn't pin me, outsmart me nor did he make me submit. He captured the "W" courtesy of a Manson intervention. As for calling it a legitimate or hollow victory? I'm sure the interpretation will be wide and varied.

TONY ROSS: In view of your last statement, do you still consider Nikolai Ash a legitimate contender?

MAELSTROM: Still? I've never stopped considering him as a legitimate contender. I stated it when I was on The Brutal Truth an' I'll state it again.... I definitely consider Nikolai Ash to be one of the more up an' coming stars in the GLCW.

TONY ROSS: Aren't you being a bit contradictory considering how you feel about his win over you?

MAELSTROM: Not at all. One has absolutely nothing to do with the other. His win over me was simply a result of circumstances beyond the scope of our control. An' that doesn't change my perception 'bout Nikolai or his ability.

TONY ROSS: Do you think Nikolai holds you in the same high regard?

MAELSTROM: Doesn't matter.

TONY ROSS: Why?

MAELSTROM: For a variety of reasons.

TONY ROSS: Can you give me one?

MAELSTROM: Hell, I'll give ya two. First off, my assessments and opinions aren't based on whether or not someone thinks highly of me. Best example I can give, is Anarky. The man apparently despises me an' takes every opportunity he can to prove it with his cowardly attacks. Whether that's based on jealousy or hatred is still up in the air. But despite all that, I still think the man is one of the toughest SOBs out there.

TONY ROSS: I see. And the second reason you say it doesn't matter how Nikolai views you?

MAELSTROM: (grins faintly) I would think you'd know the answer to that by know Tony. I simply don't care how anyone feels 'bout me.... be it flatterin' or disparagin'. Ya see Tony, it's not personal.....

(pauses as he winks and smiles at us)

TONY ROSS: It’s business then I suppose?

MAELSTROM: Not quite. It’s more like “personal business”..... ‘nuff said....

TONY ROSS: There you have it. Controversial views, from a very controversial man.

(the edges of our view begins to darken, consuming the images of Ross and Maelstrom until all that's left is a black screen as we.... FADE OUT....)

 

[ChrisCornell]

first

(fade in: here we are. a new location, a change of scenery for a old combatant. nikolai ash stands outside, the sun beaming through a pair of oak streets. their leaves have long since fallen in this cold winter climate. Ash is wearing a pair of black slacks that look to be hemmed an inch or two, they are neatly pressed. A long black pea coat covers his upper body and you can barely see the collar of his white dress shirt, very casual today he wears no tie. his face looks refreshed and has a five o'clock shadow barely appearing across it, his hair gently moves in the wind it seems like the wind is gently caressing it. in his hand he holds a glass of water which he brings up to his mouth periodically. in the front pocket of the coat we can see a red leather covered book but the name is not apparent.)

..alas back again, the alias of my seniority Nikolai Ash. My posthumous face again forebodes itself upon your monitors, your glass and faux-wood enclosed boxes sitting upon another broken tube transmitter. Meh, who is this may say some elders struggling with their unwillingness to give up and let death take it’s toll on another life and let population control come in and clean up the mess, control.. ha, controlling ones destiny is impossible, yet some are able to do it.. some know what is to come, do I know what is to come? I am not Jesus, nor am I Allah, or Buddha, or any type of prophet from the Mormon religion. I do not claim to be much more than you see me now. Casual dress upon my body.. I try to take care of myself but sometimes-outside intervention cannot be helped and it leaves me with situations that are beyond me.. and well.

::taking a moment to pause and collect his thoughts, Ash clears his throat and begins a new::

Yeah, uh, huh. I know. And well there’s nothing much I can do for as a human being I was not given many powers in order to subdue others into submission and create some type of masochistic fantasy which Merriam-Webster describes it as a hallucination is that what.. what.. what this all is? Or am I just creating this with my imagination for the fact that I do not want to deal with.. are you dealing with, can I deal with.. er uh.. my conscience sometimes fails me, it may have been the fact that I did not receive contact daily as a child. But Freud is not here to help nor will he be.. . strong willed and able to conduct myself with the correct decorum I am, I am. Am I dealing correctly with my problems… the problem of reality vs. fantasy? Fantasies are nothing new to the world of wrestling, but sometimes even stars.. under the spotlight of the fans and the world.. the fear of walls closing in.. the darkness they seclude themselves in being solace… do not prepare someone for the mental anguish and punishment that this business can STRIIIKE.. sorry, down yes….. uh huh.. down upon yes, down upon us. Are my thoughts trailing is it hard to follow.. not sure, me neither… can you be sure? Probably not.

Ehhh… am I hallucinating to you? No, because to you.. you, no, you wouldn’t know because you aren’t me. But am I living in a fantasy world? No, because no I wasn’t.. nope, I wasn’t the first time. Because a while ago… Maelstrom came to me and proclaimed I would not beat him, and yet I did…granted it was not the best way to defeat an opponent but it happened did it not? Indeed it did, I did it once.. whom is to say it cant happen again.. well Maelstrom and the countless others that try to discredit me before I even enter the wring, what do they matter? Yes, exactly they matter to me… or to you, or your grandparents grandparents.. who don’t know their names and call them Charlie when their name is Nikolai.. but oh well, they cant remember much especially when you want to hit them with a shovel.. when that shovel is dropping sod on their face, like Maelstrom’s face will see soon enough in his fantasy of Pandora Island.. the Island that is an enigma like me, that follows him… sort of like the island Godzilla came from. It only appeared when he appeared.. something like that.. is he a god, or a zilla? Or is he like Mechagodzilla.. and not really made from the earth.. ehh do you know, not I…not famed announcer Tony Ross, because he cant even tie a tie.. let alone know a map.

..did you know gold shimmers and has a nice reflection sort of like a prism in some lights? It’s true.. or so I’m told, but I’m told a lot of things especially by Maelstrom. Most is bull… or a calf, I’m not sure which yet… but sometimes I’m never sure of much. Maelstrom he is no stranger to odds and difficult situations. We all knows this, I grew up watching him… or at least my ladder years and well we’ve grown accustom to his face.. and his brooding glare that was so popular back in the time of Saturday morning cartoons and cheerios with the honey bee. So yes we… as in we, the crowd, the world the ones who don’t know his name but know his face and still buy his merchandise from a sweatshop east of Pandora.. we know him. His goals are always the same, and you must love a man with goals.. set and defined, and then refined until perfect. He’s reached a certain perfection in his career.. and granted I wish I could… but the perfection is close.. the belt it’s close.. sure I have many belts.. but none are so promising and fulfilling, or so I hope. But am I hoping it’ll fill a void Maelstrom left by someone or something or my craving may only be started.. the craving for blood, the yearning for the excitement I find between four posts and the solid canvis..mmmmmm..

::ash coughs and sighs::

Hrmph. This craving I have I don’t know. Is it real or fake like the match Tony Ross thinks… and we know the rest of the world thinks I stole from you. Is this re-match more of a quenching satisfaction? Or is it really my destiny to face you again and go into one of the most grueling altercations in history… a battle upon the mat.. of strong wills. See you may admit I got the win… a win is a win is a win is a win, don’t we all win if we win? But I’ve won.. yes I have.. yes uh huh… uh well, winning isn’t everything is that what you’ve always wanted to say? I know you want to say it here.. because with me.. I got the “W” as you say it… I’ve gone down in the stat book as beating you for the first time in GLCW history, yes.. but to you.. it means nothing more than a letter, because I didn’t truly bring you to the brink of exhaustion even in your brittle years. Sorry that my strength does not supercede yours. See… I may not be a better competitor in your eyes, but in mine I am… I am crafty.. I am intelligent, what I lack in some areas.. I make up for in others… I am sort of a renaissance man in a way of speaking. Granted I second guess my self here.. but is it possible some thought I was the better man? I .. well. .. who.. uh, I don’t know? Row 41 may have.. seat 12, section 10… aisle seat 1… nose bleed section… backstage crew… presidents.. vice presidents.. bookies… who knows… can you say.. CAN YOU SAY.. I say… FOR SURE? CAN? NO?

..I must seriously calm myself for I do not need this. See your words are more fabricated than mine, even the pencil neck Ross.. can get behind you and under your skin with certain questions about your inability to clarify. My victory.. hollow like someone’s soul… may be what it is, but I am not here to save you anymore Maelstrom.. I’ve said you enough. Your chances were given and now all you can do is sit with your sixty minutes smug… point.. counterpoint.. point counterpoint… bob dole likes to hear bob dole talk about bob dole… yes? Ring a bell? I .. you, I? Et tu Maelstrom. I may not have pinned you, that case has been settled long ago… nothing can be done about it. but you can not get over the fact that I still beat you.. in your subconscious that W means more to you than it does to me, to your career it means more.. for W’s will come my way as will L’s… but you will always know a man who couldn’t pin you, couldn’t even take you to the limit made you get the good ol’ EL EL EL EL EL on your forehead… like a square.. el-seven weenie? Ha.. know it? I did not ask for Manson to come in.. nor would I again, he happened to run in and interfere.. but does that mean that I am hollow no.. no no and no si senor. I am not hollow, for the lackeys in the back I do not have.. maybe you do, but I am not one of them nor could I control some if I had them. Striking fear in the hearts of many is not something I do. not a man.. not a .. a.. not.. of great stature I must be cunning in my precision and my attacks must be more than motivated by hatred.

::Ash drinks a cup of water, and droplets fall onto his shirt collar::

You refer to me as a up and comer, a contender.. but does that mean I deserve the chance in your mind.. when the cameras are off and you snuggle up to bed… am I real competitor? Jealously I do not have, but maybe I sense some in you.. my record is spotless.. and soon to become even more impeccable.. but for you, the same can not be said.. for the shrub that I am… can not be brushed away .. I am merely desensitized and cleansed and will remain cleansed unlike your soul and body and mind and heart… my head is here…

:oints to chest::

… along with my heart.. and my heart is here.

:oints to head::

You can not have one without the other. Mind controls heart.. heart mind… self contained unit. Ha.. ha.. no.

(fade out)

 

[JLebron]

Certifiable "Somethings".....

(FADE IN.... on a black screen where we see a door slightly ajar. The image becomes larger as the camera apparently approaches the door..... it peers through and spies Maelstrom sitting in a chair, he's hunched over, his elbows resting on the tops of his knees. The GLCW Heavyweight strap lies carelessly on the floor by his feet. He's apparently talking to no one in particular, seemingly unaware of our presence. It's hard to make out what he's saying, that is until the mic is moved a bit closer, projecting slightly in front of the camera lens. Immediately following that, we find ourselves ease-dropping on him, right in mid sentence.....)

MAELSTROM: ...... -----ver-ending line of philosophical bulls(BLEEP)t.... they try dissecting..... they try manipulating.... they even outright lie at times.... an' still they proceed..... still they wander aimlessly into a place so foreign to them.... so obtrusive.... so incomprehensible.

(pauses momentarily..... then suddenly starts laughing)

MAELSTROM: .... they load up their literary cannons an' fire their best shots in succession..... missiles armed with claims of "jealousy".... claims that "I've lost a step"..... claims of "ignorance".... but just like a novice brandishing a weapon beyond his capabilities, they mis-fire or miss the target entirely. They seek a chink in an armor that doesn't exist.... flesh an' blood after all, is anything but impenetrable. David defeated Goliath..... hell, if a loser like Minion can beat someone like Nevada Smith, then you'd have to believe that A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G is possible! Does it make sense?.... no. Should it make sense?

(pauses as he sighs heavily and reflects for a moment)

MAELSTROM: No. One can go insane tryin' to make sense of it all.... some have I imagine. Look at guys like the Masked Blazer.... guys like Mike Manson.... guys like Jared Justice.... feigning lunacy or not, they're still "certifiable somethings", each an' everyone of 'em. But aren't we all? Aren't we all labeled "certifiable somethings" at one time or another? When they lack the ability to grasp a concept..... an idea? When they refuse to admit to themselves what is blatantly so obvious to others? When they rehearse their pose on the GLCW stage for all to see? When does it stop?.... more importantly, when does it begin? It's an endless maze, a maze that most get hopelessly lost in. An' what of those who negotiate it successfully an' choose to venture back in? What are they thinking? Or for that matter.... ARE they thinking at all? Are they insane, or crazy like a fox?

(drops his head and glares down at the GLCW Heavyweight title at his feet. He reaches down and picks it up, examining it momentarily before he lets it drop carelessly to the floor again.....)

MAELSTROM: ..... to think, it all seems to revolve 'round a mere strap. Seems to be the "in" thing now to de-value titles.... a concept I've pioneered since I first stepped into the ring, though for vastly different reasons than most. Most are unable or unwilling to accept my views on the value of titles..... I imagine 'cuz of ignorance, but mostly 'cuz my views tend to offend them since I more often than not capture what eludes them, what they so desire. Anarky understands the jist of it. He KNOWS the REAL value behind capturin' a title.... it has less to do with statistical stature an' acknowledgment, an' more to do with honing an' staying on the cutting edge. When yer the hunted, when ya have what EVERYONE wants.... When ya have the ability to "lure" the toughest an' meanest SOBs yer way.... now THAT’S the real prize.... that's the measuring stick for any title's value. A concept apparently foreign to you Nikolai, considerin' how ya value the end-result more than the means, considerin' how ya actually take pride in the manner ya captured that "W" over me..... considerin' how ya go an' do the obvious an' claim that I'm actually jealous that yer unbeaten in singles competition, an' I'm not.

(shakes his head disparagingly as he suddenly explodes into boisterous laughter)

MAELSTROM: No Nikolai, ya haven't a clue as to what it's truly all 'bout. Ya boast over that win, beatin' yer chest as ya do so to anyone within earshot for one simple reason....

(pauses for long moments as he seems to lose himself in thought. Then just when we think he's trailed totally off, he resumes speaking.....)

MAELSTROM: Cuz ya KNOW that a win over me casts a HUGE spotlight on ya, not just in the GLCW but anywhere ya may go! Even one with an asterisk! Hell, it was that win that shot ya up in the rankings! Hell, I'm sure that that win even had a lot to do with affordin' ya a title shot consideration. So ya see, when ya make the claim that my losing to you means more than yer win over me, it kinda makes ya look the fool. Obviously Nikolai, you have MUCH more to gain from capturin' that "W" than I do. I don't get any special recognition or prize for beatin' ya, cuz the fact of the matter is that I'm rarely, if ever the underdog in any match. But no-one is infallible, regardless of how much dust collects on their "loss" column. Face it Nikolai, since the last time we met, NO ONE, has perceived you in the same light as before. They pay just a little more attention to ya now..... they offer ya just a wee bit more respect when they refer to ya. Now ya can go an' say that I'm full of myself, an' I wouldn't deny it, 'cuz it's true! I am, but the difference between my arrogance an' that of most 'round here is that I CAN an' HAVE backed up my arrogance! Modesty? Hell, that's for those who actually give a damn of how they're perceived. Do YOU give a damn Nikolai? Are you a "star-gazer" desiring the recognition that a win over me can afford, an' no, I'm not talkin' 'bout one with an asterisk by it.... I'm talkin' 'bout a REAL win? Whether ya want to admit it or not Nikolai, MORE than anythin' you've done thus far, people know ya more as the man who tarnished my undefeated streak here in the GLCW than anythin' else. Ya act just as Manson did, as if yer MY salvation, yet here ya are with the opportunity to propel yerself into the spotlight, capture the recognition an' acknowledgment ya so desire..... at MY expense.

(pauses as he stands up and turns straight towards us. He has neither the look of surprise nor anger as he glares stoically into the cameras. He simply smiles faintly and walks towards us....)

MAELSTROM: No Nikolai, ya have nothin' I need nor desire. Yer mind-controlled heart, yer presumed self-contained unit? (shakes his head disparagingly) I'm no stranger to that concept Nikolai, been applyin' it much longer than you have. Bottom line, whether ya want to admit it or not, the facts are irrefutable an' denying it will only prove just how someone who seems so intelligent, can possess such little common sense.

(pauses as he grins maliciously)

MAELSTROM: No matter how ya choose to manipulate the truth with yer philosophical rhetoric, the fact still remains that I'm YOUR salvation......

(Maelstrom gives a knowing nod as he walks so close to the camera that his face fills up the entire screen. He grins faintly and narrows his eyes, right before he shuts the door on us..... FADE OUT....)

 

[ChrisCornell]

second

(fade in: accustomed to the face of Nikolai Ash, we seem him sipping more water.)

..television propaganda, fancy special effects that glitter the screen and dance about like some third-rate country’s gas guzzling tinker bell. Scan lines appearing across your face and slicing it into millimeter pieces small enough to barely catch the eye, but dangerous enough to cause eye damage so they say.. but what do they know, they were wearing glass rimmed protectors since they came from the womb.. does that give them the designation to know what it takes to cause damage to one’s self? Or does the damage not real, or is it just not apparent to us.. and it’s only apparent once they take their cold forceps and prod us like a heard of cattle on a ranch in Wyoming, the state of free and openness.. but what’s free.. what’s open? Is the cattle’s hide free and open to the air after it’s stretched, salted and torn from the body it once gently adorned? Then sent through conveyer belts to the next destination on the script of mammal life. Moo moo, moo? The leather is then tanned, and dyed and cut to the correct shape… add some chemicals to make it stiff.. and then we puncture it with gold that was pressed in a plant and there we have the belt of a long lost talent, a maelstrom.. a hazard to one’s health, or most subsequently mine after this wired mesh. Would you believe it too, too… as in reference to you the man who’s name comes across my lips every so often and has come across many a lip in their day. Do you believe you will create pain for me? Or are my literacy cannons as you so eloquently put it too much for your vernacular? Does the rhetoric I throw towards you pierce your skin and leave a mark underneath the first layer to sanctify the blood and torment to be hatched from my frame… hmmm hmm? Say it Mael… say it, you are the predominant male in this area.. you are the body building, suffrage creator… all humans and animals can not compare to your grand awkwa…er…your grandiose power.

Can I simply grovel at your feet and proclaim I am not the victor now?

Steps? You’ve lost none, I’ve seen you walk.. your feet go one in front of the other just like the normal mortal.. but you, no you are unlike the mortals we see each and everyday.. you possess something more.. something unique I tried to capture last time but was unable to.. why? Well many reasons… a Manson came and tried to save me, yet I needed no saving.. except in your eyes, but do your eyes see into my head? Heads.. .head games.. ignorance? Never… ignorance is not what you have inside your brain, you’re far too good for that.. educated you are, education you perceive… education you ooze out of your pores. Some may see you as a slang creation machine.. full of less bytes and more bite… but I see more, I tried to save you from what others were seeing but was rejected.. now I must use force.. and not just words that you are afraid of .. afraid others throw at your Michelangelo chiseled body. Belief is what makes us all human even the immortal… and belief in matches that I’ve never seen.. against states and demons.. create nothing in my head, but a shadow of blurry consequences that I care not to divulge. My label for you is just as viable as your label for me and all other wrestlers.. but the thing that sequesters me in my room for hours to ponder the thoughts of a Maelstrom from an island no one can find on a map is that ..why is my use of word play not acceptable but yours is? I don’t mean to sound childish it is far from the point… seeing the only point is fear… fear of me speaking my mind and you believing it… or better yet.. better in the sense for me.. better for the world, is that the WORLD IT SELF… THE WORLD OF SINNERS AND DISBELIVERS COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT… yes.. yes you, Maelstrom are not much more than a shadowy figure in a alley.. someone to fear, but not fear if only we walk past the alley instead of exploring inside…

..but does this mean I should fear exploring your inner workings? Most likely I should.. for I fear most people’s inner workings.. but what can I do? fear is natural in humans.. it comes from our thirst for knowledge and wanting to know more than we should, and it may also come from an American nature… of arrogance. Is arrogance a crime against humanity? Cats come with nine lives.. but the creatures who whole predominance are pristine and fragile.. glass like and unable to do anything threatening. Unable to walk through THE MAZE… even grass menageries.. playful at first by danger danger danger.. when caught amongst the loop of the weeds. I am not insane.. I am not a fox.. I am not chased by men in red coats… or working with them, I stand alone here to perform but not on the stage of GLCW on the stage of life, I am more than a wrestler.. a combatant I am more than anything you can conceive in your mind… the mind is a tricky creature, and it needs food.. and my imagery is not the food it likes to devour.. is your belt what it can devour? The glimpse of happiness it possesses in your fifteen minutes of momentary fame that creates the phenomena known as Maelstrom? looking at it makes a smile come across your face just like it would to most… to me it doesn’t.. to me it simply relieves the stress of my back and places it upon that leather strap that lays at your feet like a dead kitten murdered by the wheels of an automobile. Dead … both are dead, both are mourned about when lost… both cast a shadow of doubt upon the person who did the killing, who is the one who did the killing in your life and made you appear how you do now? Did I murder a little piece of your spirit when I destroyed your perfection.. I do not believe you are jealous of my perfection, simply displeased with your own. You can feel nothing for my pride, but you have a little less than me now.. unless you can some how admit that my battle with you was more than just rolling on a rug with an infant before it meets it blender fate.

::Nikolai sighs and looks around and then smirks::

Luring the evil to me isn’t what turns me on, it isn’t what tickles my fancy. I have what people want, and do not have the gold around my waist or anywhere else like you mister…t, tea is what lured the colonists to revolt…. Do you revolt against my views like they did against the British? Am I too harsh on you? Or wait.. do you want the harshness… does it make you feel more like the man, or the MAEL that you are. Am I too cutting edge for you to whist stand and you lose your self in my words and mind play so you cant realize what you’re saying when you say it? I never can admit what I am, or what I’m not.. but you can do it easily when you speak… even simple sentence fragments reveal so much about you. Psychology is important, you know it better than me, you’ve been around the block and then some.. to the corner store and back.. you cant help but realize it’s importance.

..importance.. hmm what is important to me? Not the beating of king kong upon my chest, not the brooding faces.. not anything of value in that realm or any realm really. My ideas may seem as controversial as a hummingbird, but that does mean it casts a certain dark cloud on them. Not.. a spotlight, like a win over you casts on me…. For the spotlight was on me from when I first entered the ring, look at any tapes.. listen to the crowd, listen to the announcers scream my name.. and praise me, I was loved and had the spotlight and acclaim of everyone before I even entered your face. An asterisk I am not… I am not a sixty-first homerun hurling over the fences at break neck speeds.. the win, shot me no where. I remain at the same place I was before the battle with you.. it just happens that the rankings were updated after my win with you, they were refreshed. But in the minds of everyone I was where I still remain… not the best, but far from the worst. Admitting the title shot.. yes, that may have to do with the fact our match was a ratings booster… we battled and battled and tapes were made, re-cap shows created, internet buzz www www www etcetera … you know I cant be wrong to admit it.. that I helped both of our careers in the same way. It brought you to the world of failure that many Midwesterners may not have seen in your eyes.. even if by a asterisk known as Manson. See your line of perceiving me different is so wrong.. when in fact you admit that I am the same person and not valid. See I am a team player.. and have lost as a team player.. yet still stayed strong, team players are strong. People still look at me as second rate in some respects.. and should I care? No. do I? No. no.. and no for you. Expense… is expensive at your expense.

Common sense, what is so common about it? not everyone has it… and it seems neither do I in your world, but your world is inside the box, where as I look outside the roy g biv of spectrum… and the prism of life..

This water, is fresh and new.. not stagnant like many … it is the bringer of life… but the sun in fact is the bringer of death for it removes water from my cup and may not bring it back if it wished. It holds more power than your salvation.

(fade out)

 

[JLebron]

A Glimpse Of Thirst

[updated:LAST EDITED ON Mar-15-03 AT 09:53 PM (EST)](FADE IN..... to the whirling sounds of a ceiling fan as it turns lazily, monotonously, clockwise in direction, casting flickering shadows upon the figure of a large man who paces the room in endless counter-clockwise circles, dragging in tow behind him what appears to be a large leather strap of some kind. His features are continually obscured by the constant faint flickers of eclipsing light that repeatedly embraces and releases him. As the figure continues to pace within his infinite circle, a visage super-imposes itself upon the screen, it's transparent enough so that we can still see the figure pacing behind and through it, but visible enough to make it out as a visage very much in the likeness of Maelstrom's face. It glares solemnly at us without moving it's lips, yet his voice thunders forth.... almost as if his thoughts were being verbalized......)

MAELSTROM VISAGE: ..... tongues laced with hypocrisy. Not darin' to speak yer mind, but rather, more content to speak as if ya had none. Not a trace of brain I think at times, as ya play the role of a blind man tryin' to discern his own reflection in the mirror.... but then I'm reminded of the words that fall between the lines.... givin' ya away.... peelin' away, one layer at a time, exposin' yer subterfuge..... as ya walk into the sun... the same sun that removes the water from yer cup, the same sun that unveils yer guise.

(a pause ensues and for a brief moment, all that can be heard are the whirling sounds of the ceiling fan above intermingled with just the slightest hint of scraping noises from the leather strap dragged by the pacing figure)

MAELSTROM VISAGE: .....walk past the alley, reassure yer fragile ego that fear wasn't a factor..... dis-illusion yer manhood by mocking mine. Why not? Why not scoff at what ya can't possibly comprehend? As long as it helps ya pose eh Nikolai? As long as it temporarily fills that great void in yer gut. But yer right Nikolai, I'm not as lucid with my tongue as you are. While you've made it pain-stakingly clear that its your forte, it's far from mine. But then again, I'm not tryin' to impress anyone, 'cuz unlike you, I have no ego to stroke..... no ego to bruise. Yet here ya are, despite it all, wantin' to save me from what others perceive of me? An exercise in futility..... or rather ignorance? Why would ya pretend to care 'bout somethin' that matters not to me.... somethin' that never has an' never will..... Save ME from what others perceive? Indeed Mr. Politician, weave yer eloquent tapestry of deception to those who know no better..... practice what ya do best, yer perjure..... an' I'll do what I do best, purging people like yerself. An awkward sort of confrontation but nonetheless, one that arms each with their most potent weapons an' measures them at their true worth.

(yet another pause, not quite so long though....)

MAELSTROM VISAGE: ...... who slew the dragon? Who's responsible for buildin' that proverbial.... "better Pandorian mouse-trap"? I look an' see a reflection cast by me..... an ordeal endured long ago.... an impasse negotiated an' breached..... an' here I am. But at what cost? After all, everythin' carries a price.... a hefty one usually. What price are ya payin' Nikolai? Or are ya even aware that there is one? The box is where all payments are negotiated, surrendered an' subdued. MY box... the same box ya claimed I live in will be YOUR proving grounds. I'm yer repo-man of sorts an' I don't accept credit. The keys hang in the balance Nikolai.... I have 'em an' you want 'em..... ya NEED 'em to improve yer credit history.... improve yer credit ratin'..... to improve yer credibility.

(the visage smiles faintly but still makes no effort to speak even though the voice resumes....)

MAELSTROM VISAGE: .....speak of me as ya wish.... the more ya do so, the lighter yer words become..... a glimpse is all I've allowed ya.... pray it's all you'll ever get of what exists in MY world......

(the visage narrows its eyes right before it simply disperses and disappears from our view..... immediately it's replaced by the figure of the large man pacing the circle with the leather strap in tow, except now that image becomes transparent as well, and just as the Maelstrom visage, we also see through it, past it, to another image.... one of a man laying down upon a bed, twitching as he labors to sleep. He's sweating profusely and muttering inaudibly, when suddenly he bolts upright..... and in that self-same instant the transparent image of the large man pacing in a circle dissipates until it too is totally gone...... leaving us only with the figure on the bed sitting in the revolving shadows of the slow moving fan. He glares at us, breathing rapidly at first, until he calms down a bit and his massive chest rises and falls at a much slower rate. He pushes back his matted black mane and wipes the sweat from his face revealing the face of the GLCW Heavyweight Champion, the man we still know simply as Maelstrom. He utters something to himself, but all we can make out is.....)

MAELSTROM: .... thirsty...

(he reaches down and drinks long from a bottle of water. The rest he pours over his face and head as he reaches over and lifts the GLCW Heavyweight Title from the floor and begins pacing in slow counter clockwise circles within the room..... the title of course, as has become the norm, is being dragged in tow behind him. The shadows of the ceiling fans' blades continue to caress, embrace and release him as he paces endlessly, and we in turn simply..... FADE OUT.....)

 

[ChrisCornell]

trois

(fade in: are the thoughts we think inside our heads only given to ourselvese, or is a higher power also listening in and plotting our destiny, sewing the seeds of insanity in the meantime to make us believe what we can not see. is it an urban myth or is it a conspiracy theory with a fake aussie.)

from the dusty streets of Chicago, down a seedy boulevard, the sun gently sets upon a brick facade. it’s beams of like shining down and showing all the crevices and mistakes that the building possesses. It sounds more like a third rate private eye novel or film.. or combination such.. as a knockoff made by a director who scored big at Cannes but cant put it all together with a $40 million dollar budget. Your budgets Maelstrom keep inflating like the debt our country gets put into daily.. how is it you are more of a … well façade, than an actual person underneath it all? Is it impossible for you to be anything more than fancy effects and colorful splendor? You remind me of a video game character.. to children it appears so vibrant and real, very palpable.. but to anyone over a desired age limit you are just as shallow as many in the real world but you may in fact hold something we do not… glitz, glamour, fantasy. All you show me is a fantasy that you play out on your mind.. not a real person, a robot of terminator experience. I once referred to you as a Godzilla creature, but maybe you are in more of a sense now then even then… a giant rubber exterior covers the real skeleton in the closet, the scared little boy waiting for mommy’s attention to come and sooth his fears and cuddle his tears away. Does the bosom you seek still run from you and hide in the corner like a forgotten youngster… are you scared of being the real you, for it may pale so much in comparison to the character you’ve built up that it’d shock the norm and perceive you as a liar.. a cheap.. a deceiver, the great…

..I do not use great in the literal term, so I will not finish that sentence and acknowledge it’s importance in the grand scheme of life. You remove the layers of me, and I do the same to you.. so are we really different? Is it a stretch of your microcosm of a mind to say that we are one.. and that with some telepathic power… we are connected and know each other more than we like to lead on in the everyday talk talk.. chitter chatter.. blah blah blah.. tickity tock world we live in, where mindless babble holds so much importance to us we can not live without it, imagine a pow… a man in a cell, confined from the world and beaten.. is that what you are? Am I strolling past you, and your “alley” and foreseeing you as a possible “ally” instead? Your slick urban slang does nothing to subdue me in any way.. you are a drug, a barbiturate I wish not to use. It does not do anything but glamorize what we already know and do not need to hear over and over and over like some sort of nursery rhyme on beta caught in a loop of insanity. Or is that what your life has become? A non-stop loop of insanity.. of that chitter chatter we demand? See.. your lucidity is as great as mine, just in another manor.. a manor I can not possibly grasp because I was not brought up in the same environment such as you.

Impressions are made by forcing something upon another surface or object.. .am I forcing myself upon another? Not in the least bit, but do I lay impressions where I lay my mark? Yes.. I do, I lay my impression on you and you loathe its ubiquity. Why? Are you afraid of it Maelstrom? Is my mark something that shocks you because you believe that I AM NOTHING MORE THAN ANOTHER “W” IN THE COLUMN FOR YOU TO BEAT AND DESTROY LIKE A CARNIVIOURS LION BEATING DOWN AND GNAWING ON THE FLESH OF A ZEBRA?! Am I your feast Maelstrom? …if I am, I apparently am too fast and quick for you.. the young buck gets away again with another discovery, more knowledge to boot. Knowledge, it’s what I need to beat someone as crafty as you, and in your own arena… your own palace, your sanctum. See, you may say to yourself you have no ego, yet you do. It may not bruise as easily, but you have one.. for even commenting on anything I say, and not just letting it go by.. Is showing your ego is hurt.. and to let it heal you must bash me with your iron clad fist of fury and damage me in the only way you know how… is it possible that you just don’t know how to deal with me any other way? Does it go back to a cat and mouse game.. me being the mouse this occasion, and you chasing me and feeding me to that dragon, the dragon that breathes the fire of ecstasy and guilt all in one… guilt I say… say.. hmm, eh… well.. guilt, guilty? Are you guilty? Are you guilty of feeling the pain inside YOUR GUT?! Does your gut bleed with the intensity to beat me.. and leave me for dead.. only to come back and feast on me once more, because you were not done the first time? But this will remain the final? Who says it’s final… are you the cliché of judge, jury, and executioner? Who says… who let you gain the role of saying when the FINALE IS?!

..is the price I’m paying for coming at you with such swagger ..going to be my down bringing? Is my ignorance getting the best of me this day? Can I not compete with the knowledge that you have inside your noodle of fine wheat. For I will INTERWEAVE my thoughts and ideals into you.. and get upon my soapbox and proclaim that I am the one for you.. I talk for myself, I am not a puppet for the political world, only for the world of one.. you know what one I mean and talk of.. not a messiah. A messiah is not here to save.. they are also here to reign hell…and fire upon you…is it what you want from me..

Your box… as big as it is, cant contain a force like me.. or you… both of us in the same four squared anomaly is…well, can and will be cataclysmic like it was before. It will bring down the fierceness.. the clash of ignorance, so you say, and brute force. But… can the tides be turned in the middle.. and one turns out to be the real fool in underestimating? The big always fall to the ALLLmighty.. but the hand of god can not help us both…you are not the infidel but I am not the arc..

..so sell me what you want, your dreams your fantasies.. you’re doing nothing but outliving your welcome… mat…ted down is what you are, upon the history books.. is history what you want to be come? Or is it what you already are? Tell me… you are full of answers to your own destiny.. how about answering me.. and then tell me..mine… mine or mine.. or mine..

Your fear is prevalent each time you speak. What fear is inside you most? Failure… or passivity? What’s to be positive about when… the world is grim, and you are the reaper of it’s riches… tell me…’strom me a note.

(fade out)

 

[JLebron]

Traffic

(FADE IN..... to an obvious, surreal back drop of an abandoned city. The camera's view winds moderately through the streets, passing by some very innovative locations. It passes by one corner where we see a mime performing, trying to get peoples attention, but they just walk by ignoring him as though he's invisible. He's miming against a street pole, feigning climbing it. As the camera follows his fake trek upward, it reveals the location of the street..... The corner of Manson Way & Poser Boulevard.....

CUTTO: another location at the corner of Minion Square & Sux Street, where we see a really filthy looking bum scrounging through a dumpster, attempting to feed on what others left behind. It's a rather disturbing sight so the camera doesn't stay focused there for too long .....

CUTTO: .... the southwest corner of Ash & Envy Streets where we see a well dressed man, with a book pressed against his breast, preaching to a group of confused-looking people. Some of them are laughing, but most just wave him off and leave.....

CUTTO: ..... a dead-end alley with the words "FIFTEEN MINUTES" spray painted on the back wall. We see a Harley V-Rod with the GLCW Heavyweight title looped carelessly around its handlebars. Sitting on the Harley, leaning back with his huge arms folded across his massive chest is the GLCW Heavyweight Champ himself, the man known simply as ....)

MAELSTROM: ..... lots of traffic out there..... lots of routes..... lots of paths..... congestion..... all ultimately leadin' to the same destination....

(smiles faintly)

MAELSTROM: ..... some travel in endless circles, all but lost in their own bravado, their own rhetoric.... others make more informed, educated choices..... the risk takers, with everythin' on the line, goin' forth with a full head of steam, never lookin' back.... an' yet proceedin' with blinders on. Why is it that fortune smiles on some an' frowns on others? Ever wonder 'bout that Ash? Is it a matter of timing? Or is it simply destiny of sorts? Or perhaps.... perhaps strength of will comes into play? Does yer will have integrity Ash? Or is it built on a flimsy foundation of hollow rhetoric? Who's to say, for that matter, who really cares? Hell, I'm only renting what everyone wants, there's no option to buy an' there's no lease, which reinforces the fallacy of anyone bein' unbeatable. So why would I care 'bout the rise an' fall of property values in a fleeting domain? Whether I like it or not, this is just a temporary lay over on the GLCW's "Main" highway. Where to from here?

(unconsciously shrugs his shoulders)

MAELSTROM: A rest-stop of sorts I suppose, 'til it's offered up to someone who's "hungrier than me.... "thirstier" than me.... someone who captures that "special something" that incites the crowd an' loosens their purse strings, like the pied piper, leading them straight to the bank. Do we all get our turns? Not likely. Should we? I think not. To do so would de-value the entire process. Value is directly linked with rarity ya see. Commodities.... yesterday it was Manson.... today it's ME! Who's to say who'll be the next commodity? You? Me? While we do have a measure of input, we don't always have as much control of our destinies as we'd like to think. Stocks fluctuate as do the whims of the masses. Popularity? Not as potent as it once was, which is 'prolly why it's now the "in" thing to trash all that we should an' used to respect. Notoriety? Infamy? Now there's the rub..... a rub that most manipulate poorly.

(sighs heavily)

MAELSTROM: Ya ask Nikolai..... ya ask who allowed me to gain the role of saying when the finale is? That just goes to show ya.... it goes to show everyone, just how falty yer perceptions are Nikolai. If ya have to ask for something such as power, an' even if it's supposedly given to ya.... Then ya know what ya got?

(looks from side to side as he narrows his eyes and grins sheepishly, he motions for us to come closer then begins whispering.....)

MAELSTROM: ya got....

(yells vociferously)

MAELSTROM: NOTHING!! Nikolai, power isn't something ya ask for..... it isn't something that can be given to ya either.... it's something ya TAKE! Just like yer aimin' to take what I got.... the attention of EVERYONE in the GLCW! Sure ya can "allude" that I live in a fantasy world..... that I'm shieldin' my fears..... that I'm, MAT...TED down as ya say..... but none of that can change the fact that despite, or in spite of that..... I STILL have what YOU desire! Like it or not..... I'm RULING the world you want to reside in. Cast yer aspersions.... much as stubborness demands from those who lack what they seek..... those who reach for what's out of their grasp..... a concept..... acceptance..... forgiveness even?

(raises an eyebrow and smirks)

MAELSTROM: Am I bein' TOO raw for ya? Not dressin' it up 'nuff for ya? Were ya expectin' the dark, brooding, tortured soul bit? As I said earlier.... I just allowed ya small glimpses of my world.... An' to be quite honest with ya, I felt a lil' levity was in order. With all yer profound performances an' such yer liable to blow a gasket or drop the ratings cuz yer insite is just too overwhelming for anyone to grasp..... an' we wouldn't want that right before our match would we?

(winks and smirks)

MAELSTROM: Ya wanna pretend that ya know what drives me? Ya wanna attempt to impose yer will on me?

(begins chuckling)

MAELSTROM: Be my guest. Ya won't be the first an' not likely to be the last neither. The traffic can be overwhelming at times...... particularly when ya don't know how to navigate..... the fifteen minutes ya seek is only as infinite as yer limitations allow.....

(grins mischieviously)

MAELSTROM: How's that for a note eh?

(FADE OUT....)

 

[ChrisCornell]

forth

(fade in: blackness, a static is heard. upon the screen flash messages in white text.)(Am I here to protect you? Am I here to finish what needs to be finished? Are the sinners truly within the body of the good, or are the evil invading us in our sleep. Who is to say? What is to say? God works in mysterious ways, and my hands work wonders.)(fade in: the screen fades, and scene changes to Nikolai Ash wearing all black and is standing next to the same tree we've seen him at recently, in the back pocket of his slacks we see a book unfamiliar with it's red leather binding we persue the look of profound guilt upon the face of Ash as we are drawn into him.)

la diddily da… come the man .. fee fo fum? I smell the blood of a man having doubts of his abilities.. is it me who doubts my abilities or the sandman, the candy man, the man prowling the streets with the stench of a young woman upon his nose.. thirst for blood.. his palette drips with excitement at the thought of it. like the surreal backdrops of your crime scene drug dealer whereabouts… the city is your nightlife, it is the place you come to dwell after a hard night of drinking or morning whichever you prefer, which do you prefer Maelstrom.. the soothing nestle of a beverage in the wee morning… or at night when it’s savory taste awakens your senses to the bright lights and flashing bulbs.. the one’s you’re famous for attracting wherever it is your brood dwells in the day. Your Parisian attributes and your forte into the culture shows me little more than you have shown me in the past, the inability to confront your fears, you must mask them in the granite street knife fights of your past present.. future.. your existence feeds off of it.

..the disgrace of human culture replays heavily inside my mind, the chimes ring, the gears spin and the gizmos and other motors are working simultaneously and yet I still am unable to picture why the society is in a decline.. can you explain it to me obi-strom? You are full of more answers than I ever am.. answers to questions I do not even ask or prelude.. ask, ask ask… answer answer answer.. this game of cat and mouse grows larger each day the rooster lets out it’s morning caw for the day to begin. It’s immense nature is not unforgotten when it comes to me.. it troubles me that our day of anointment is fast approaching the dark doom that has been set upon us by straps of hide slung together in sweat shops far east of here…a pandorian style island no bet. Where people even worse off and more disturbingly chaotic in their mindset.. stealing loaves of bread to feed their twelve kids from nine different wives.. how is it that culture has grown so … bizaare.. yet is so calm in retrospect? I am not sure… I just know that it plays a giant part in your life Maelstrom, your street tough image is nothing but a painting… it’s sort of like a Roarshock test.. I can see inside your mind and the beautiful colours lay down onto the canvas of life in such a way that they are more like a Martin Scorcesse film with their dark ominous corners, sharp angles and jettison movements.. that were once jerky but have now left to the calm serene views of our mind. Motion sickness of life.. I think not.. the roller coaster of life never ends.. and neither does the torment, that is what keeps us fresh and up to date.

Alas my dear friend, my destination.. is not leading me, I am leading it. There are many paths in the world… each route leading to another and another… but they do not lead the same way, there is always a fork for you to take.. and the fork in life is oh so more confusing than that of literal translation. The rhetorical question that gets asked of me, is that of am I good enough… am I Malestrom.. or are my fifteen minutes far gone and faded that of a Joey Budafuco. Have I gone the way of Tonya Harding? Or am I still here to box a few more rounds.. to outlast the others and claim what.. may not be mine by will.. but by a destiny taken from a path I happened to stumble upon as you think in your washing machine of a mind. Quarter in.. chug chug.. clense clense… squirt.. done and we’re fresh again. I wonder … is a risk taker also an educator? In order to take the risks he must know that he will not get hurt.. he must know that there is a chance for death but also know the chance for survival.. knowing that wrong moves lead to right moves eventually in the circle of karma. The timing of life’s little nuances are quaint and refreshing when you think of it. … the fact that so many odds are against us in the world, yet we seem to be able to pull it together in the most coincidental and ironic ways…the destiny of the stars is around us.. and it has brought two together for an epic amongst the gods… the savior I am not, the creator I am…. In my own right I create and ruin.. see that is not as empty as one would assume, but…

::Ash sighs for a moment and gives a rather iconic smirk::

..but, how hollow can I be when once before I showed you that my words were more than just flowing proverbs .. but actual damnation.. as flimsy as I may appear in context to the scheme of life.. I am less the paper… and more the champion.. how harsh was the sliver.. how deep was that cut into your cerebellum.. as it bleeds out onto the table. I am unbeatable.. in a sense, we all are.. some just need to know their strengths in order to become unbeatable. .you are not…. Faults shine through you, and make you glimmer.. but soon fade.. like the sun you come back each day, but each day growing older and assuming it’s position in the universe for the demise of all time.. and hoping to bring as many people with you as possible.. good or evil.. bad or demented.

Mr. Strom, values mean much to you.. but if the belt means nothing.. why care for it in the first place? Why not set sights higher? Or do you feel you can only get acclaim and only get shots at the tough men you seek if you have the belt? Are you unable with all your power.. to call them out on your own in a back alley braaaaaawl……………for all.. . ..the rights you deserve. Driving your foundation into the ground…. I cant claim to be the first in the line of anything more than a creature of my own demise my friend, demise is the key word of the day.. remember it like it is the most valid and untouchable word in the English lexicon. ..it may take you more that fifteen minutes to find it’s real meaning in your life, but all you will have is time soon enough.. soon enough time is what you’ll have.. then soon grow ill from it…. grow ill from the lapse of power you once had.. sitting alone. The power that means nothing now.. when the glory is in you and around you. Taking that glory away from you.. is all I seek, that is it… the strip you and show you for what you are, only to save you in the end.. save you from the time…. The journey to the time of never coming back, damnation. So….yes my friend, you have what I desire.. you have always had it.. but you aren’t the only one..

..everyone has something I want, and you aren’t the first one I’ve tried to get it from.. you are just the most prominent at the time. So I accept my fate, I accept the fact that I must take you to somewhere you’ve never seen.. our last meeting was fruitful in it’s lucidity but now.. I bring forth the ultimate in creation…I can see.. your rawness, it’s crass and just lovely to hear.. refreshing… it’s like the dew on the flower in the morning. My insight can drop the ratings.. but what will happen to you will boost them and involve the world in something they’ve never witnessed.. my popularity is slim and always will remain, the fans.. the morons, the invalids.. the ones sent of god.. the ones who’s hand will be needed to guide them to the light.. will all see me and grasp their heart in shock..

What am I really Maelstrom? A creature.. of a figment.

Teach me Maelstrom, teach me… let me see what you have, get me on both knees.. and raise my hands in the arm and clasp them together ..

PREECH TO ME! PREECH TO ME! PREEEEEEECH TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

(fade out)

 

[JLebron]

Shallow integrities......

(FADE IN..... a black screen.... spinning gold letters that swirl upon it, originating from the middle and growing in size as it spins.... it suddenly stops to reveal the letters G-L-C-W in all its brilliance.... all its glamour.... until it explodes with deafening results.... consuming the screen altogether, shooting debris everywhere, until that too fades and we find ourselves upon an elaborate GLCW backdrop on a roof top. We can see birds flying over head only to disappear behind buildings or into the horizon..... the picturesque view allows us glimpses of the city below and other neighboring roof tops. In the back ground we can see neon letters anchored to the roof, they're flashing intermittently, shouting in silence the claim of the GLCW logo. The camera pans side-wards and we see a silhouette standing upon the roof's ledge.... his back is to us. While his features may be obscured, his outline whispers subtle hints toward his identity. His flowing mane whips wildly about, man-handled mercilessly by the unseen force of the wind. But that's all that's yielding on him, save for the large strap he clenches in his massive fist, that too sways back and forth, coiling itself like a snake upon his leg, cowering against the wind. His body however stands firm, like a statue chiseled out of marble by the finest artesian.... unmoving yet vibrant.... the curves of his musculature framed against the sky.... framed against the roof itself as the camera takes a sudden birds eye view.... framed against the huge flashing GLCW neon sign as the image suddenly swan dives for a full frontal view, revealing what we've already surmised by now..... we find ourselves glaring into the face of the man known simply as.....)

MAELSTROM: .... soooooo many questions.... soooooo many assumptions.... so few answers Nikolai. You've proven yer proficiency in the obscure, answering questions with questions..... Allowing the spaces between the lines to become congested, visible only to those with x-ray vision.... audible to those well versed in the arts.... the arts of.... of introspection? Nah, more like the art of decipherin' bulls(bleep)t! Yer pose is well-polished Nikolai.... but still merely a pose. Yer recyclin' yer circles, renaming the start points each time ya return, speakin' in riddles cuz it's much easier to do so I imagine, than admit ya don't have the answers. Ya keep referrin' back to that infamous "W" of yers, though ya profess it means less to you than it does me.....

(takes a moment to wipe his wind-blown mane away from his face)

MAELSTROM: Ya see what ya WANT to see an' plant yer self-proclaimed flag of fact upon it.... oblivious all the same of the possibility that what ya see may just be by design..... oblivious all the same that yer not directin', but rather, bein' herded. I've given ya the hints an' ya swiped 'em nonchalantly aside.... discardin' 'em like ya do everythin’ that doesn’t conform to yer convenience. I've mentioned to ya time an' time again that I've ALLOWED ya to glimpse only what I WANTED ya to see..... like it or not, a graceful feint cuts just as deep as the clumsy truth.... even deeper if it arrests yer perception.

(stretches his arms outward)

MAELSTROM: Ya see this.... ALL THIS GRANDEUR!? It doesn’t encompass me as it does you.... I’ve breached horizons only to find yet another needin’ to be breached. Can you say the same? An’ if ya can’t .... does it matter if yer ignorant of its concept? Should it matter? (sighs) Ya speak of takin’ risks yet in the same breath mention the NEED to know that ya won’t get hurt.... confirmation of sorts. Confirmations all but eliminate the element of risk Nikolai.... so in answer to yer wonderment, NO, a risk taker is NOT an educator but rather an observer.... he’s traveling past the boundaries of uncertainty.... past the boundaries of his own experience. A risk taker may know HIS own limitations, but he doesn’t know for certain the extent of the parameters he seeks.... if he did, it wouldn’t be a risk now would it? When ya reach too high Nikolai, ya often end up grasping nothing but air.

(lets his outstretched hands fall to his sides and glances at the GLCW Heavyweight Title in his grasp.... shaking his head disparagingly)

MAELSTROM: Ya refer to the same nonsense that Manson had before ya.... attemptin' to ridicule my perceived value of the strap. Ya ask just as he did, why not seek the toughest, the baddest elsewhere, without the title? An’ I’ll repeat to ya for the umpteenth time that this (raises the title up) is what its all 'bout for most! This is the mechanical rabbit that all the dogs chase.... This is the virgin that everyone salivates over. Why would anyone make a side trip from their goal eh? Ya need to stop preachin’ an' pattin' yerself on the back an’ pay more attention Nikolai. Of course values mean much to me.... MY VALUES that is, otherwise I'd be that much further from bein' whole.... bein' complete. My values however differ from the most..... my values rest within ME, not upon a slice of gold. This strap is merely a tool I use.... much like a fisherman hookin’ a lure to his line.... much like a misguided thought, purposefully planted to misdirect. It’s really not a hard concept to follow, for those with any common sense that is.

(glances down at the streets below as the wind whips his mane about again)

MAELSTROM: How much of what I’ve said are intended misdirects.... illusions, an’ how much are worth their actual weight?

(raises one of his feet and balances himself on the roof’s ledge for a few moments, then, without warning, he steps off the ledge and immediately disappears from our view. A split second later, he pops his head up, a faint smile on his face and rises waist level above the roof’s ledge. A stage hand then walks by and shoves the roof’s ledge past Maelstrom, revealing it to be nothing more than an elaborate prop set upon yet another rooftop. The roof of a neighboring building. Immediately, we begin to see a few more stage hands dismantling the neon light and carefully lower it down to the neighboring rooftop. Maelstrom watches this momentarily, then simply turns away.... the GLCW Heavyweight title being dragged in tow behind him.... that is until the image suddenly freezes and everyone stops in mid movement, the stage hands, the techs, Maelstrom, even the birds in the sky stop in mid flight. Seconds later Maelstrom steps into our view and is immediately covered from head to toe with all these images, much like a person standing in front of an active movie projector would. The images suddenly disappear as the projector is apparently shut off, leaving only Maelstrom standing in front of a huge white screen.)

MAELSTROM: ....What ya see.... what ya hear may have shallow integrities, but still serves its intended purpose all the same....

(Maelstrom reaches behind and tugs at the bottom of the screen. Immediately it rolls up upon itself and offers us a picturesque view of the city's skyline from the rooftop he's standing on. He offers a faint smile as we in turn.... FADE OUT....)