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| CURRENT
RECORD: 4/1/0 |
DATE
OF RP: 03/18/03 |
ACCOMPLISHMENT: -Ex-TV Champion- |
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~~We're surrounded by a constant hum and flow of people...hundreds of them, mainly in their mid-twenties, sweaty bodies colliding and moving (or making a close approximation of moving with) the music...something hard, harsh, bass-driven with the undertones of a pumping pipe organ, metal clashing against metal, the ringing of industry combined with some of the effects of what sounds like power tools pumped through a synthesizer and mixer and a whining, grinding soft guitar in the background...all strangely combining into a sort of melody that not only grates the nerves but is hard to not even give the occassional head-nod to because it just sounds right. The atmosphere is dark and parts of the walls are illuminated by caged red lights. As we scan the room, we find that the central area is slightly dropped into the floor, a dancefloor, and above the floor there is an opening that overlooks it from the second floor, encaged in a chainlink fence. There is a bar against the back wall, and the stairwell going up to the second floor is also caged in by fencing. Two large men stand at the entryway to the second floor, guarding against minors who may try to wander up to the alcoholic bar upstairs, as well as guarding anyone from trying to take in anything liquid into the arcade that lies right behind them. The camera pans around a room full of black and metal-adorned people, many in combat boots stomping to the music. As it pans, it slowly pans around to the backwall that overlooks the first and second floor from behind a tinted mirror wall. The sights and the sounds of the club become blurred and muffled as we fade away to somewhere more quiet...somewhere more pristine.~~ MAGIC:
I'm telling ya, pop...this was a great
move on the part of MacDougan Entertainment...no need to confine
ourselves to one venue. Besides, the club atmosphere in this town
needed a new kid on the block to kick their asses.
~~As the screen becomes more clear, we find ourselves in a darkened room with a oak floor, a wide one-way mirror looking out into the club, red velvet paisly patterened walls, black leather couches and chairs, a glass coffee table sitting above a large Oriental rug, and walls adorned with lines and lines of CD cases and bookshelves. Mike is sprawled out on one couch in leather pants and an unbuttoned dress shirt,, and across from him is none other than KMD himself in a suit and tie.~~ KMD: Something needed done...the way things are looking in IWF, it's gone to shit. We tried our damndest to keep that monster alive, but she just ate herself...now there are talks, still, of mergers with NEW...which puts me out of a job. MAGIC: Why don't you just join their roster? They need the people? ~~Krev shrugs, taking a sip of milky green liquid from a crystal glass..~~ KMD: I have to face the facts...I'm getting old. It's no use to keep being persistant about it...no one wants my sorry ass anymore. Wherever I go, I just cause problems. Yeah, there were talks on transferring me over onto staff...but I haven't heard anything yet. It's probably just as well...it's time the legacy of KMD moved on to greener pastures. ~~Mike stands up and looks out over the club through the window.~~ MAGIC: So you're retiring then. ~~Mike turns back around to face Krev. Krev shrugs.~~ KMD: So it appears. Just as well...I was getting tired of all those young guys. I could keep up with them, mind you...it's just their attitude. I'm ready to let someone else deal with it...the view from the top of the mountain is always the same...it's the people clawing their way to the top that changes. ~~Slowly we fade to black as Mike just nods to his father, slowly turning back to the window.~~  ~~As we fade back in, we find the same view from the clubs office...with slighly less people wandering around to a mood that is a little more somber than violent. Mike is sitting on the same couch he was before, sprawled out and drinking from a bottle of Mt. Dew. He nods to the camera.~~ MAGIC: We on again? Good. ~~Mike sits up straight on the couch, putting the bottle on the coffee table. He pauses for a moment as he looks into the camera.~~ MAGIC: So here we are...the time of redemption is at hand. After tomorrow night, all of the ASW will find out who the true TV Champion is. Tomorrow all of the ASW will find out that me losing the title was a farce, a simple mistake on my part that let me down, a simple mistake that ruined me for a few weeks...but I'm back. I've battled my way through two possible usurpers, men claiming the title as their own...I've battled through the blood and the guts, dismantled Sonny Lightning and Dukes, and gave them a reason to feared the newest and most dangerous kid on the block. I went in there last week with one thing in mind, taking back my rightful position as heir to the TV Championship, and this week I claim it. ~~Mike pauses and leans back on the couch, swinging his right leg casually over his left. He rubs his chin.~~ MAGIC: That's right...I'm claiming my rightful position to stand among the champions. I'm claiming my rightful position to hold the belt that is, as it seems, one of the most contested ASW titles at the present time. Why is it like that? I'm going to pat myself on the back for this one. I'm going to come right out and say it was because of me. I'm going to come right out and tell the world that it is a highly valued piece of championship gold because I made it so. Who gave a rats ass about the TV Championship before I showed up? Who cared about a title that seemingly changes holders on a weekly basis in a vain attempt to garner ratings? This man right here. This is the man who cared about the title enough to push through Ricey420, to stomp down the previous holder and the #1 Contendor at Broken Hearts. This is the man who walked in having won only 2 matches and claimed the prize as his own. This is the man who brought the tattered belt that was passed around like a $5 whore to the forefront of the ASW and made it shine...bringing it to the attention of one of ASW's finest Sonny Lightning and another illustrious past holder Dukes. This is the man who made it glitter...and this is also the man who grew a big head about the whole matter and lost it faster than he gained it. This is the man who will attone for those sins. ~~Mike leans forward, picks up the bottle and takes a swig.~~ MAGIC: You see this man right here? This is the man who will, as I have vowed only mere weeks ago, take back the title that belongs to him. After that? Who knows...maybe the world. When I prove this to myself...when I prove that I can reclaim my belongings to all of you...then I can move on. Then I can move onto better things...but what of the TV title? Will it lose it's luster when the true warrior-champion has left it? I don't think so...I've made it better than that. I've created something that will endure...if not for a long time, for a decent ammount of time. After the ASW TV Title, the sky is the limit...and I'm all about pushing those limits. ~~He pauses, looking toward the window. He caps the bottle and turns back to the camera.~~ MAGIC: But what about you, Douglas? Am I going to yammer on and on about how good I am...how great it is for the ASW to have me? No, I haven't forgotten about you...far from the fact. You're still there, perched up on a high chair overlooking the men who are trying to de-throne you. Maybe you're laughing, maybe you're crying, maybe you're fearing for your damn life because you see what's coming. I'd stick to option 3...you've seen me, you've seen and felt how I work...and now you know I'm serious about ataining that which I once held. I'm not going to go down like the bitch I did last time we fought...I'm not going to allow you to waltz in and stomp me. You have what belongs to me, and I want it back..the first time was the last time, and totally unexcusable. ~~Magic leans back in the chair, crossing his arms behind his head and kicking his boots up onto the coffee table.~~ MAGIC: And it's as simple as that. I look at you, and I question you...I wonder if you ever thought of emigrating and removing one more bit of pollution from the countinent. I haven't even heard your sorry ass talk to me yet...but then again, if I wanted to hear a retard talk, I'd slap you on the back of the head and wake up that little peg legged hamster that operates the drool-powered waterwheel of thought in there. Until then, you're just gonna have to sit in the corner and wait until I either speak to you or spit at you, got it pudwhacker? It's either silence or Armageddon, munchkin...and it seems like It's the end of the world as we know it. MAGIC: Insults...insults...it's as if I'm talking to a brick wall here. Sure, I was as quiet as a mute mouse last time we fought...but I wasn't myself. I wasn't pissed off because some half-rate fly-by-night champion decided that it was his turn to wear the shiny belt. I'm coming back for it, Douglas. I'm coming back for it, and I'll be damned if I don't knock you around so hard that the Tooth Fairy needs to make three round trips to collect all your lost mouth gems. ~~Mike stands up and begins to pace around the room.~~ MAGIC: Tomorrow...you, me, and my title. I'm looking forward to seeing it again...you'd better pray that I get her back looking just as sweet as I left her. In conclusion, thank you. We were all refreshed and challenged by your unique title reign. Now it's time the TV Title came home. ~~The door to the office opens, a hidden door that leads to a spiral stairwell in the back. O'Brian steps into the room, holding a suitcase.~~ O'BRIAN: You ready, Magic? We have a title to take back. MAGIC: Never been more ready in my life, man...never more ready. It's time I lit up the ASW skies with these dual howitzers packed with pure Pittsburgh Magic. ~~Mike pats his biceps as we fade to black, Wumpscut's "Totmacher" blaring in the background.~~ |
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