RUSSIAN ROULETTE: Eric Davis vs. Karl Brown

[DBrunkGXW]

All RP here!

 

[EpyonMarx]

The fire that burns

[FADE IN. A night scene, a large, open fire burning in a forest clearing. The camera pans back, showing a figure familiar to many as “The Dragon”, sitting in a very relaxed manner, staring into the flames]

Karl: I don’t know why you felt the need to attack me, Davis. It’s the one thing that’s baffled me since Aggression. You have a problem with me using a title I earned, so you decide to deal with it in such a cowardly way, one unbefitting a man calling himself the best the industry has ever seen. Maybe you wanted to put your point across that you’re a hard-ass. Maybe you wanted to make sure you had an advantage going in. All you really did, though, was show how scared you are of me.

You could have come and spoken to me in the locker-room, and we could have both marched to talk to Ryan about a match to settle this difference you have. To be honest, when I went into MCW, I’d never heard of you. Until you walked in through the door, I still hadn’t heard of you. Now, I find you’ve been using the “Dragon” moniker for a while. And that you’ve been kinda out of action a while.

And that’s why you’re scared, Eric. That’s why you attacked. Save the bull-sh*t “I did it because I felt like it” or any other reason you’re bound to try and come up with, and just admit it. You’re scared of a young wrestler from Nottingham, England, who uses the same moniker you do. Only, I won the right to this moniker by being the best at one of the wrestling schools in Japan. You? You probably thought you’d use it because of Ricky Steamboat. Because it sounds cool. For a punchline.

Because you think you’re talented.

I’ve seen tapes of you, my friend. You’re nothing I haven’t already seen, nothing I haven’t beaten. If anything, you’re a step down. A step down from Sands, from Benjamin. From Maelstrom. From the people in the Natural Selection tournament. It’s almost embarrassing to have to face you, and over something so petty.

[Karl tosses some more wood onto the fire, sparks flying out as the fire roars before settling down again]

Karl: At Russian Roulette, Eric, you don’t have a chance in hell. Your fancy pantomime might win you a few ooohs and ahhhs, but they don’t impress me. Calling yourself the greatest… that’s a cliché in today’s wrestling industry. How many claim to be the best? You can’t all be right. Quite simply, none of you are right, because there’s always someone better than you, someone you have to work towards being as good as. No-one is unbeatable. So whilst there is a slim chance you might beat me, I have neither the time nor the inclination to worry about that. Because it’s such a slim chance.

[Karl stands, walking over to the flames. He stares into the heart of the fire, the shadows moving, the flames dancing almost hypnotically]

Karl: I can see you, Davis. I can see you in your little heaven, where everything is perfect for you. Where you’re outlandish claims of being the best are true. But to me, you’re nothing. You’re not even up to the same standard as Ray Rock. You’re another name that Ryan decided to bring in. Another man expecting to make a huge impact with next to no effort in this company. People like you are nothing to me, to the fans. To those of us who’ve been here since day one, to those of us who made it here… you’re just another self-inflated and deluded ego. And a fairly harmless neurotic person. You’re little heaven may help you sleep at night, but you’re heaven’s a lie, Davis. The only truth, the only hard reality is that you’re in for a battle the likes of which you won’t soon forget. At Russian Roulette, two Dragons meet. And only one will survive.

You dug the grave, Davis. I’m more than happy to fill it in.

[Karl keeps staring into the flames, as the camera pans round to the far side, then to the base of the fire, staring into its very heart. FADE OUT]

 

[SteelCitySon]

Please... come back to earth...

<i>Fade in to the shot of a giant wall of televisions. Each monitor shows a different Karl Brown match. The camera pulls back to show us a dark shadowy figure seated in a plush leather chair, staring at the tvs. The stark contrast between the bright screens and the man in the dark gives us the impression that there's no other source of light in this room. The man stands up from his seat and walks towards the sets, hitting a button on his remote that changes the picture. Suddenly the set of monitors shows us a picture of Eric Davis, standing boldly in front of a waving "Davis" flag of sorts. The video is looped over and over as the shadowy figure turns around to reveal himself.</i>

Davis: Well now... it seems as though Mr. Brown has a little retort to the action I took against him at Aggression. But the overwhelming theme of his little fireside chat seemed to be coming up with a reason for why I did what I did.

<i>Davis looks away slightly, rolling his eyes in the process.</i>

Davis: Listen, Karl, don't even TRY to figure me out. It's like asking God why he works in mysterious ways. You think that by watching a few tapes of me you've got me covered? That "I'm nothing you haven't already seen... already beaten"? Actually, Brownie, you've never beaten me. Hell, the only time I've had any interaction with you, I left you face down on the canvas. The only good look you really HAD at me came from underneath the sole of my boot. You think I'm afraid of you, Karl?

<i>Davis chuckles at the notion.</i>

Davis: This coming from the guy whose only accomplishment in this promotion seems to be defeating Adam Benjamin. Please... Karl... you're nothing. I was off ending the careers of people like Rob Sampson while you were suckin' on your momma's tit. Here's an idea, quit playing the role of psychologist and grow some balls. I WOULD tell you to stick to your day job, but it appears you don't do THAT very well either. And what's this talk about coming to you in the locker room? Do you honestly think I'd be seen hobknobbing with someone the likes of you? "We could have gone to Dan Ryan together?" As fun as that little field trip sounds... I doubt it would be beneficial. Like I need Ryan's approval for anything.... the last time I saw THAT guy he was in the same position YOU were... lying on his back with my foot on his chest. I can do WHAT I want, WHEN I want, and however often I want to do it! Which is exactly why I can say I'm the best. You know you're right about one thing though, Karl. Not all of us can make that claim and be correct... but some of us...

<i>Davis lifts his fingers to his mouth to breathe on his fingernails, then polishes them off on his shirt.</i>

Davis: ... can say it without worry. Listen Karlita, as long as this promotion is filled with the likes of YOU or Adam Benjamin, I can say I'm the best without feeling the slightest bit of doubt. You think I live in my own personal heaven... apparantly some imaginary plateau where I rule supreme? Hardly. Karl as long as I'm stuck dealing with the likes of you, I'll always be trapped in hell. I just figured I'd get you out the way first. So maybe it's not I who needs to come back to reality Mr. Brown, but rather it's YOU who should pull your head out of the sand. Contrary to your beliefs, nothing in the wrestling world helps me sleep ANY better at night. What DOES however, are the two naked women and the bottle of wine. You see Karl, I don't HAVE to sit here and run scenarios through my mind. I don't HAVE to lay down at night and fantasize about the ring and what might happen in it. You say I just wanna' come in here and make an impact without any real effort? You're correct, sir. Because it really doesn't REQUIRE any. So what if I can dispose of my opposition without breaking a sweat? Does it matter? A win's a win... and that's all there is to it. The sad thing is, that's what makes it even more enjoyable. You take yourself so seriously Karl... you put a lot of time into your craft, as you've admitted. But that's the beauty of it it all. The fact that I can simply roll along and take care of you without any real effort makes it even better.

<i>Davis sits back down in his leather office chair, then spins it around to address the camera.</i>

Davis: At Roulette, you and I will indeed collide, Mr. Brown. But the notion that it will be TWO dragons face to face is an overstatement. You see Brownie, there's really only ONE "Dragon", and that's the way it's always going to be. I don't care if you were given the name by some old fart school instructor, or if you just decided one day you had a hard on for the mythical beast while watching Pokemon.... you're an imposter and that's all there is to it. But like you said, I guess all it boils down to is self delusion and over inflated egos, right Karl? So while I say I'm the greatest, you walk around under the guise of being someone who actually matters.

<i>Davis reaches over and picks up the remote control off of a nearby table where he had previously set it down.</i>

Davis: So you go ahead and talk about "filling graves" and all that, Karl. You pump yourself up and keep patting yourself on the back. You really DID earn that name... didn't you? Well that's all fine and dandy, Brownie... but you're about to lose it anyways.

<i>E.D. scratches his head with the remote, obviously in thought for a moment.</i>

Davis: You're right when you say no one's unbeatable, Karl. But what you forget is that sometimes... people like you... just can't win.

<i>Eric flashes a grin to the camera as he hits the button to turn the tvs off. The scene falls into complete darkness.</i>

 

[SteelCitySon]

oh i also wanted to apologize to Karl Brown's handler for my late post. Please forgive me, my friend. =)

Sincerely,
Millertime

 

[EpyonMarx]

[FADE IN. Karl "The Dragon" Brown is sitting alone in front of a fire in the forest clearing we've become so familiar with. He stares into the flames, reflecting on what has been and what may be, it seems. His eyes reflect the flames, but what's most striking is that they seem to burn without the aid of the flames. "The Dragon" seems awakened]

Karl: I never expected anything more from you, Eric. I knew full well you'd give the same pomp, the same ceremony.

The same bullsh*t.

I could go through your words, deflating each and everyone one, defeating your arguments utterly and totally, but what is really the use? Much better to beat someone with your overinflated sense of self importance in the ring where it matters. After all, this isn't politics. The viewers at home are aware enough, intelligent enough to see the smokescreen you put in front of them with that segment. They could see the fear in your eyes.

The could hear it in your voice. The trepidation. The sense that your world is starting to crash down around you. And the fans laugh at you, Eric. Can you hear them? They laugh at you. And you have built up your walls so well, over so long, that you can't hear them. You have that luxury. The luxury of the blind.

The luxury of the deluded.

People used to say that John Doe was the insane one in this company. Eric, I'd table the motion that it's you.

[Karl throws a log onto the fire. The flames crackle, hiss, and grow, before settling down again]

Karl: You are nothing I haven't faced and defeated. From a man who uses his past accomplishments as if they mean something, maybe you should look into my past accomplishments. My matches with Sands, Maelstrom, The Watcher, Dakota Smith, Lars Magellan. The Natural Selection tournament. My match at Black Dawn with Adam Benjamin. Granted, against Smith and Benjamin, and in the Natural Selection, I failed to win. But take a look for a minute, Eric... could you say you've been one second away from beating Maelstrom? Having the bell ring, the time expire, stealing the victory from you? Could you say that as a rookie, within his first thirteen months, you would have faced off for three world titles? Tournament finals for two world titles, the quarter finals for another? My accomplishments go far beyond anything you can possibly fathom given your delusions of grandeur, Eric.

But you keep your shroud, your attempts at wit. You keep your inflated sense of self importance. Something tells me that, after Russian Roulette, your market value will have plummeted. Losing your nickname will hurt you far more than it'll hurt me. If anything, by demanding this match so soon, you've sealed your own fate.

Two dragons will be walking in to Russian Roulette, Eric. The thing is, only I will be walking out. You'll be on your back, and for the first time in your life, with your walls knocked down, you'll hear the true sound the fans make towards you.

[Karl starts laughing. It isn't a healthy laugh. Rather, it's a very natural, sinister, maniacal laugh which fills the air. After a few seconds, FADE OUT]

 

[EpyonMarx]

OoC: No worries, John. It happens. Sorry this took so long to get out. Was planning on posting it about... 14 hours ago, but heard some bad news which delayed it a little. Best of luck to you, and thanks for the great match ^_^