((FADEIN: MICHAEL MANSON, in plain black t-shirt and jeans with large sombrero, and chewing tobacco, not spitting, but swallowing. he sits on a stained black wooden bench in the middle of an undisclosed outdoor location, early in the morning.))
MANSON: Hawk, really, I forgive you. You might not think me sincere, but that doesn't the change the fact that I am. Of course, I'm not forgiving you for any act of violence or transgression against me. No, those come naturally.
No, I forgive you for apparently converting Maelstrom to the love that dare not speak its name. I realize you knew that Southern charm and drawl would make any sexually ambiguous character fall to his knees, but still, I don't blame you.
After all, I've seen the same longing stares from Maelstrom directed at me, though somehow you made him decide that pants were far too civilized.
No, I blame Jean Rabesque for bringing that foul plague upon us all. All the times he's tag teammed with Maelstrom and spent all that time with him....who knows how he infiltrated his mind. Why couldn't have him drink Kool-Aid like any self-respecting cult leader? Nevertheless, he shall be dealt with in due time.
But, there is another reason for my forgiveness. You have a tendency to go where you do not belong, intrude in places not open to you. And in doing so, you have Maelstrom offering you a title shot. Undeserved of course while my title rematch, depite Maelstrom's ignorance, has not materialized. All you did was point out Maelstrom's hypocrisy, which I do ervery other week.
What are you ranked in that magazine Maelstrom was reading (who knew he could read)? 146? But because you see, as I do, that he can't take any attack at all on his pride, he offers up a title shot to you. Which, of course, exposes the corrupt system of the GLCW. Now I don't exoect you to turn it down, you lack my high moral character, but all the same, you have shown exactly what a Gentleman of Dignity opposes.
Still, I have no choice but to once again, strike you down. Apparently, once wasn't enough, as shown by the fact that you keep coming back to be bloodied some more. And more...and more....No....through your persistence..you are no longer a bottom feeder, not technically. Instead, you are now the new "Golem", that guy it seemed like I was fighting every week
And like Golem, I ridicule and dehumanize you every chance I get. So enjoy your new status, though a title shot it still shouldn't grant you. But I know the world isn't perfect. That's why I know I should forgive you.
((FADEIN: PANDORIAN COWBOY MICHAEL MANSON rides into view on a black stallion, wearing black dungarees and a leather tunic with duster coat hanging off him. He grins, a mouthful of black tobacco present, and a large sombrero on his head.))
MANSON: I reckon that every promotion needs a cowboy and since Golden Hawk has gone up silent, I am more than ready to fill that void, I reckon.
Now I reckon that Hawk thinks he can confuse and intimidate me with his silence. No sir, not that I can reckon. I am the man who swam all the way to Pandora Island to join the tribe, the man who broke into the Vatican to curse at the pope..and now I can hear you, Hawk, even thouhg you're not speaking.
You're thinking, this boy is at least half my age and 40 times as talented and market savvy. Is it my monthly sacrifice to the dark prince? My wide variety of best-selling merchandise? Could be. We all have our own motivations. You know you're outmatched, you were before, you are now.
And I learn, I think.....and now you face not only Mike Manson...not only Cowboy Mike Manson..but a Gentleman...of..Dignity. That's why I reckon I ride. Why do you, Hawk? You know where it ends. Where it always ends. You, bloody, beaten, and eventually, even worse off. You're old enough to see the futility.
Rabesque..Maelstrom.....the rest of the cast of all-American (and sometimes Pandorian) heroes don't want to share their apple pie with you. You're alone..always.
And alone you'll be because like I said, we do know how this will end. How it must, how it will.....because we're both cowboys....and we'll do what cowboys do..but in the end..even in that..I am better than you.
((MANSON's horse gallops and he rides away, very slowly, in fact, the horse just walks away.))
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Sep-08-03 AT 08:54 PM (EST)](FADEIN: GOLDEN HAWK standing out under the moonlit stars of Texas. A small campfire burns as HAWK stands tall in a t-shirt and frayed blue jeans...he spits off to the side)
HAWK: "Day by day I will make you realize that you messed with the wrong man, Manson. (spits) Every hour and every moment we cross paths - it won't be about where I'm from, or what you represent...I don't need a reason anymore - all I know is that until one of us quits, I'm not stopping."
"Maelstrom? I don't give a (BLEEP!) about Maelstrom. If I wanted to help that juiced up Warrior riot act lose twenty pounds, I wouldn't have signed this match. Yeah, Manson - I'm getting title shots thrown at me like its Christmas sunday...I bet that's something you have trouble relating to..."
"This is easy for me, Mike. I had the option of you or Maelstrom - I know what's best for me. I don't need that title, nor do I want that title right now. Congratulations, MIke - you've succeeded in becoming the center of my GLCDubya Universe. Only...that's NOT such a good thing."
"If that means that I'm gonna interfere in every single one of your damn matches? So be it - maybe this time you'll be smart enough to realize that Marx comin' down won't be such a good idea."
"I'll be damned if this is our last match, Mike. You want to make your beatdown and begging annual - that's FINE with me. Bring Marx down again, this time I'M READY. Bring 'Nark down, he'll find out more of what I've got in just a few short days."
"Dehumanize me? I don't think so. Ridicule me? Only once, Mike. Oh no, all you've down is set your course for a destination of disaster. Don't start forgiving me, Mike...with what I haven't begun - you might start getting ANGRY..."
"I'll break you down, Mike. I'll break you and your friends down if I have to. It's time some justice got served to the freaks running the pageantry. You can twist the words around, bring in an Unholy Army - in the end, you know it and I know it - I'm the only man strong enough to drive you all away."
(FADEIN: GOLDEN HAWK standing in the center of a ring - an empty arena surrounding him. The house lights are dimly on - HAWK is wearing a North Texas State green t-shirt and blue jeans. HAWK stands and faces the camera, smirking - he starts applauding...)
HAWK: "Wow, Mike - was that a whole 3 weeks of resisting the cowboy outfit? It's been too long, I've certainly missed speaking with you one on one in such a serious manner..."
(HAWK struts around the ring, smiling and nodding to himself)
HAWK: "What it's like to feel a need for attention, Mike? What's it like dying to attain the one goal of being the only attraction in wrestling? Lord knows, not many more men have such an infatuation with presenting themselves on camera. I mean what is it, Mike? Is it obsessiveness? Lack of self-worth? Why else would a man go to such great lengths to mock himself and the world?"
(HAWK rolls his eyes and shrugs)
"You know I guess if I fu(BLEEP!)in' cared I'd actually take the time to get down to the root of your mental problems - but fact is, I don't think you deserve it. You're a sick puppy, Mike. A scrawny little coward that isn't man enough to admit when he's outclassed, outshined or outwrestled in a ring. There's no lengths you'll sink to, I know this - I've experienced it."
(HAWK turns and faces the camera with a stone cold glare)
"But guess what? There's no lengths holding me back from RETRIBUTION and the fact that I SHOULD have beaten you pillar to post in that ring. Don't worry, I know its MY fault Mike. But simple mistakes are best corrected early, its the big ones you don't want to make. But you're walkin' right down that path, blind to the world..."
"See, Mike - you can mock me all you want...you can talk about the crazy locker room conspiracies of GLCW...frankly I don't care if Hulk, Billie Jean and everyone else here has been the proverbial thorn in your side."
(HAWK walks up closer)
"I'm not cut from the same cloth. I don't play the games they do on the mic, or in the ring. You want to mess with me Mike? You REALLY want to start messin' with me?"
(HAWK is a few inches away from the camera....his eyes slitted down in anger...)
"Then you try and pull something similar this time. Fool me once, Mike - shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."
"I'm sorry I don't talk to the camera as fast as your addiction is necessary in all of this...fact of the matter is, this is either the beginning of something beautiful - or nothing but your own bitter end. Either way, your world is changing Manson..."
((FADEIN: MICHAEL MANSON, Pandorian and Gothic Cowboy, sits on a shaded bench in full black cowboy attire with a piece of straw in his mouth. A water canteen stands at his feet, dripping with Arizona Iced Tea, as evidenced by the empty bottle nearby.))
MANSON: It pleases me that you take notice of my outfit. I take great efforts in fashion, you know. And of course, I have to give our seamstress friend Jean Rabesque projects to make him feel special and I'm sure he's just delirious that you of all people like his work.
And also, I do like dressing up at times, role-playing, if you will. I remember as a teenager when I'd go and beat the hell out of the other D&D players to steal their cards and tear their capes so they wouldn't look better than my old cloak. And you better believe I was the best D&D player in the Midwest, so much that I learned to inhabit different roles...different lives....how I can be a Pandorian one minute..and a cowboy the next.
This is the thinking, the thinking no other man can do, that makes me the sole attraction of this GLCW. I already knew you would choose me over Maelstrom, Hawk. You repeated my mantra, that I don't need a title and never have. The title has always needed me. I hear it crying in the night, but I can't help it if that Nazi King Krusher won't give me the title shot I deserve.
You have, at the very least, put yours off, Hawk. Admitting to the world, to the GLCW, and to me, only what I've been saying all along. Everyone else says I'm arrogant or delusional, because they can never admit it. Maybe you are the only one man enough to say it. That I am the GLCW's brightest, darkest, and most captivating star. And you might as well be fixated on me anyway, so half the promotion is. Though, I hope its not with the unresolved sexual tension you have built up with Maelstrom.
No, you realize the title is tainted by his poor English and mediocre performances week in and week out....you know you can't follow Bill Murray with Chevy Chase..that to be the man in the GLCW..you have to beat the pez-eatin', panda-beatin', lyin', cheatin', devil bastard son of a #####.
To think that you claim I'll regret harrassing you...shaming you..bloodying you..I don't see why since I've done to just about everyone else. Truth be told, you're not that much different from Maelstrom, other than you're honest. And when has that ever gotten anyone anywhere?
But more than anything, I realize this is my work, that of a Gentleman of Dignity. Why? Because merely my presence elevates this bout to the star attraction and propels you with my awesome main event lightning force upward in the hierarchy. Despte the pain, the rejection, and ultimately, loss, you will be the better for it. You will leaen that while I can think like you....there isn't another..who can ever think like me.
Which is what elevates me above the common man, like you, and the bottom feeding illegal immigrants like Maelstrom. But you're willing to learn, and as long as you're honest, willing to listen, and admitting that I am right, I will help.
A concussion here, a broken limb there..it's all for the betterment...because in the end..you'll thank me. Anarky wants Maelstrom to experience a similar thing, but I believe I'm getting better results from you. And why not, you talked your way into a potential title shot aready and braved the flashing of Maelstrom's steroid-reduced genitals.
But it will take more...blood....screaming....etc..you know the deal. But perhaps...perhaps in the end....when I am through...with your persistence..your dedication...and of course, your honesty...I'll make a Gentlemen of Dignity even out of you.
I called you the new "Golem". He rejected and now like ash, is gone. You've already shown yourself smarter. Just take the next step and I'll be waiting to guide you..with a sharp stick and a bloodied hankerchief.
(FADEIN: GOLDEN HAWK standing in the center of an empty ring, a lone spotlight shining on him...he's wearing a collared black shirt, black cowboy hat, blue jeans and black steeltoed, leather boots. He slowly walks around the ring, looking up at the empty seats around him - slightly smirking as well...)
HAWK: "When was the first time you experienced change, Mike?"
(HAWK strides up to a turnbuckles, climbs up to #2...)
"'Cause in all your self-deprecating glory, you're still blind to the fact. Your time here is CHANGING. I'm not going anywhere, Mike. (points around the arena) EVERY night, I'm gonna be in a place like this turnin' it from the pez-eatin', panda-beatin', lyin', cheatin', devil bastard son of a ##### man's house to MINE."
(HAWK hops off the turnbuckles, he turns and starts pacing again...)
"Yeah, Mike - you may think I'm the next Golem. You may think you've got my number. You may think I'm just a pitstop on the road back to Pandora..."
(HAWK turns and faces the camera - stone cold eyes staring...)
"You're wrong, Mike. DEAD WRONG. This isn't about titles, this isn't about anything else but RESPECT. You will RESPECT me, Manson. You will RESPECT the fact that I'm not like Golem, that I'm not like Maelstrom - and that I am not someone to be taken so...LIGHTLY."
"This isn't for the betterment of your world, Mike. This is for the betterment of the GLCDubya. For too long, you've been the straw that stirs the drink. For too long, you've been able to do anything you've wanted to anyone else..."
"It stops right HERE, Mike. All the blood, all the pain, all the concussions - they'll come, they'll be served. I'm not expecting to do this in one night, I'm not expecting to do it in thirty. No, I realize how SLOW, how PAINFUL this will end for the both of us..."
"See, its not me being elevated - Mike. Let's face it, I'm the only man around here able to handle your game and push it. I'm the only man around here that's smart enough to realize that wins and losses won't be important with you in the long run. No, Mike...you're being elevated. The Morningstar attraction that you are...the hell inside your soul..."
(HAWK walks up close to the camera...)
"You're comin' to PURGATORY, Mike. You're comin' somewhere where you're gonna stay until you either QUIT or learn to RESPECT Golden Hawk. It's all games to you, I know this...it's all absurdity in all its glory - I know how you MOCK it."
"Not ME, Manson. Not this time. This isn't a pitstop, this is your FINAL STOP...and that Mikey..."
((FADEIN: MICHAEL MANSON sits on a green leather couch, wearing a black cowboy hat and a towel, nothing else.))
MANSON: The first time I experienced change...well...maybe it was when I was circumcised..
((MANSON looks down into towel.))
Yes, that was change. But perhaps you're referring to something else, something that's actually relevant to the GLCW. I might not be the best at this, but I'll try.
I suppose it was when I won the GLCW title when King Krusher with tears in his eyes had to count the pin himself and crown me as his champion, knowing full-well he could never command or manipulate me. Not that he's very good at either of those. And since, more or less..
Everything is the same,sine there's still no one who can command or manipulate me. Maelstrom has the title, but he doesn't change the GLCW, he doesn't influence it and shape it. I still do. Maybe Maelstrom could, if only for that 4th grade reading level.
But we've been through this.
I know I'm great, you admit I'm great. And yes, Hawk, for being the only one willing to admit it, you also are great. In your own way.
Still, not great enough though, Hawk. Because now, you want to think that not only could you beat me, but you think you could stop me. The last of the beatings, the blood spilling and general chaos, with King Krusher dancing in glee like the Lucky Charms leprechaun. There's a reason no one eats that cereal.
I already beat you Hawk, my team beat you again, and then we bloodied you and left you like a corpse on a college campus. The most you were able to accomplish is helping Maelstrom out, and what do you get in repayment? Flashed? Ingratitude?
Is any of that worth it? A whole another week of being outsmarted and then scarred. And to think, I gave you hope, I gave you the chance that one day, you might actually shower and have a chance to be a Gentleman...not just any type of Gentleman...but one of Dignity.
As always though, you need further convincing. Luckily, I a not above beating this lesson into you, if that is what is necessary. And you will smile, spit, and say, "Please, sir, may I have another?" Because deep within, you know it is for your own good, for the good of the GLCW.
Because you, and it, need a harsh, dictator-like father figure to lord over them and rule as a king. Obviously, Krusher is lacking in these departments. I do not. And it goes on and on...and on....
Even in the end, should lightning strike and you actually pin me, you will be met with nothing more than another beating, possible further injury. Why? It just might be that like Maelstrom, you can't get over your own pride. Which is of course the first step to dignity.
The things I will have to do, however, will take away whatever pride you had left. You're not on the road to Pandora (literally since its supposed to be an island)....no..you are on the road to the salavtion of the GLCW. Those who can, will be changed, and the others..cast aside.
And no one can stop this, no one can stop me, the pez-eatin, panda-beatin, grave-diggin, lyin', cheatin', devil bastard son of a #####.
((MANSON rises, and walks away as the towel hangs loosely from his waist and then..falls to the floor......only to reveal another smaller towel in place underneath.))
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Sep-11-03 AT 01:24 AM (EST)](FADEIN: GOLDEN HAWK same attire as his last promo, same setup in an empty ring...)
HAWK: "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey...I'm not on the road to Pandora. Maybe next time you speak, you should LISTEN first. Of all the people that I would at least expect to pay attention to the details - it would be you."
(HAWK spits out of the ring)
"I don't care how many beatings I'll take."
"Do you understand? Must I say it slowly?"
(HAWK shrugs, disappointed he has to repeat himself.)
(HAWK starts pacing around the ring)
"Maybe you're not used to someone like me, Mike. Maybe you're not used to someone just willin' to take the lumps and bruises - just to be there when you make your fatal mistake. Maelstrom? Rabesque? Golem?"
(HAWK turns to the camera with a smirk...)
(HAWK starts pacing again, doing a few neckrolls)
"What's so big and bad about you Mike? You can make me bleed? You can hurt me? Every week, you can bring your legions of bottom-feeders and 'glorified' jobbers to help you escape your inevitable destiny with me?"
"PLEASE. If all you got is a few broken bones and a pint of blood, you're in for a big shock, pal. You keep lookin' to your past accomplishments like they have any bearing on the future. Guess what Mike? When you do F(BLEEP!)k up. When lightning does strike next week - it IS gonna be worth it."
(HAWK hops up on the turnbuckles, surveying the arena)
"I'm in YOUR backyard, Mike. I'm in YOUR house. You've been the slumlord to the Great Lakes for quite some time. I've been here all of 3 months and you can feel the air changing. You can see what the future REALLY does hold. These people you wrestle in front of have been waitin' for a long time to see someone either put a stop to your madness - or at least someone strong enough to survive and outlast it."
(HAWK starts nodding, smiling...)
"So when the lightning of the Gold Rush does strike and as ten's of thousands of people count to three - with your bloody, battered and broken carcass staring at the lights...helpless to do anything. I don't care if 'Nark comes down, I don't care if Marx does. If I gotta fight a 1-on-3 battle, you saw what I'm capable of doin' at Wired..."
"Yeah, Mike. I'll be satisfied. I'll think it was worth it...and I'll want to do it AGAIN...and AGAIN...and AGAIN."
(HAWK hops off the turnbuckles, smirking)
"Never thought I'd have to repeat myself to you, but you've had a problem understanding what my PURPOSE of going through the beatings are."
(HAWK directly faces the camera, walking towards it)
"Every dictator gets overthrown, Mike. King Krusher won't do it. Golem couldn't do it. Jean Rabesque won't do it. Maelstrom wouldn't even know where to begin..."
(HAWK smiles with a little evil touch to it, the camera closes in...)
"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. All you do is spend your time trying to convince the world that your existence is mandatory and required to be in our face."
"You're only tricking yourself into believing who you are, Mike. And 'cause of that you keep convincing yourself that I'm NOT the man that's ready to overthrow you."
(The camera stops, only HAWK's 5 o'clock shadowed, grizzled face on the screen...)
"You just don't know how one bad trick can just as easily turn into one fatal mistake..."
"And you ask me if it's gonna be worth it?"
(The camera pans out, HAWK stoically standing - his smile fades)
"And Mike, when the lightning strikes - TRUST ME...its gonna be as good as GOLD."
((FADEIN: MICHAEL MANSON, in black long-sleeved shirt and jeans lying n a lounge chair on the roof of an undisclosed building in the middle of the night. He has a Snapple at the ready, along with a Batman pez dispenser, and smal portable TV set, currently off.))
MANSON: Hawk, you know, I listen to you trying so hard to convince me that you're important, that I should take you more seriously, at least more than the other trash around here, that you, above all others, are going to be the one to take me down.
That you're tougher..more determined.....stronger...more will.....
Then I hear about your broken family, how you're trying to show everyone what a good man you are, a provider and everything. Which of course misses the point, my Texan friend.
You are the one referencing me as the devil, and do most others. But I never said I was myself, no, all I ever claimed was that I was trying to save this promotion and anyone worth having in it. That is surely not the devil's work. And of course it is seen as, that sort of thing always is.
Meanwhile, you want everyone to think you're good and great, you give to charity, you got church every Sunday......don't you being compared to myself or Nark...you automatically come across as being good and righteous and able to sell girl scout cookies. You are calling me the devil.
They say I'm evil, demented, deranged, insane, but all I'm doing is taking opportunity when it comes. In this, I don't care what its labeled. I don't need to. I'm paid larged amounts of money, though never American currency, and spread propaganda through merchandise. I don't need justification, I have it everytime I show up and the people demand me, to love..to hate..to build cheese statues of.
To think all you're trying to do is do right by your family. I realize this is hardly a Psych 101 revelation, but the likes of Maelstrom, Dakota, and the Jarod's can all be quite slow. All for your parents?
I tell you, if you were my son, I would have smacked you around every day and made a real man out of you. First, we would have gotten the hell out of Texas. And since your mother wouldn't be around, I'd find a way to get a check out of that, and of course, there wouldn't even have been public school for you. No, I doubt I would have had the time to home-school you either. I think Morty over in the trailer park could have taught all you need to know about life.
Then you would have grown bitter, cynical...and be perfect for the world of wrestling. I suppose for possible Gentlemen of Dignity orientation, we'll have to start at a later age, but I'm willing to help you out with that as far as I can.
To help, I'll even give you some advice on those mouths you have to feed. Do they have legs? Arms? I thought so, well child-labor law violations have been investigated, and before that, reported. That's months of salary coming beforehand. I could even them get them on board at the GLCW here, you could even see more of them and they can meet the wrestlers, while serving our food, sorting the garbage, cleaning the blood, and of course the drug testing.
If not, I suppose you could always have them sent away and have suitcases made of their skin. I know a guy who knows a guy, I could connect you. But of course, this and more...it all comes later. But only if you prove yourself really worthy. It takes more than a pinfall for that. More than walking away from a beating.
It takes dignity....
It takes my help. And I have yet to decide, if I'll give it.
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