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| Date of RP: 01/28/03 Current Record: 7/0/3 Current Accomplishments: IWF Bad-Ass Champion |
~~It's what happens when someone loses
sight of the prize, falling victim to their own anger, their own
crusades, their own fears. It's what happens when people stop
looking at simple objects and other people as simple objects and other
people...it's when they look at those things and think 'enemy' and
'prize'. It's base, it's primal, it's the natural instinct of all
animals...hunger for a prize to live, taken through the hide of another
being. It's what fuels missions of conquest, thirst of resources,
and the containment of a way of life...a way of survival.~~ VOICE: Ti-i-i-ime is on my side... ~~There is no running, there is no hiding...all men succomb to it. It's what makes us human...it's what fails to seperate us from animals. This need...this...hunger. It's what gives us our drive, it's what makes us succeed in business, relationships, sports...life. It's how we live, living to take before being taken from. What brings this on? What makes mankind succumb to it's own base desires?~~ VOICE: ...yes it is. ~~It comes from the same base as greed...as want. It exists to feed greed, it exists to nourish the want that lies down deep inside of us. It's just yet another base emotion, something from a time that predates time...it has always layed deep inside of us. It is another primal instinct, one that guarantees the human race the will to survive, despite the odds. Humans are more mobile than their other brethren...they are able to adapt as well as a cockroach and utilize their creativity like a fox. They can bring themselves into any situation through sheer will...but that isn't what makes one human. It's more basic than that...those are just examples of those who go beyond the norms, those who live to live, not to live in a way that proves to leave a bad taste in their mouth.~~ VOICE: Ti-i-i-ime is on my side... ~~It's our desire to survive that gives us the instincts of animals...the ability of fight or flight. Some combat this a little differently than people, some take those base skills and use them to their own will to continue their own success...it is in these base desires we find KMD living his life, trying to survive the next day. Yeah, he's succombed to flight...he's left when things have become too hot or pointless. He's evaluated his state of affairs, and, if it didn't seem worthwhile, meaningful, lucrative, if you will...he simply left. No questions asked, no commitments to fulfill. He simply left, dissappearing into the world of obscurity, only to reappear once again, stronger than ever and in a place that holds promise, a place that will suit his needs...until it becomes once again pointless. Yeah, he uses fed, yeah, he lives to feed a base hunger...then again, sometimes that's all you have, all you need.~~ VOICE: ...yes it is! ~~But when you find that place, the place where you can fulfil your destiny...make an impact...work your automatronic method...then that is where you find him making a stand. That is where the fight over flight complex takes over, tumbling and churning deep inside of him...building a beast...creating the embodyment of chaos, ready to destroy all that lies in your path...for the simple reason of simple lessons. This is what KMD does...this is his job, this is his destiny. He cannot escape it, and he cannot avoid it...until the end of his days, he was destined to wander the world, lonely, teaching his lessons and making people face their basest, most inhuman of all human emotions and desires...presenting to them a mirror, an image of their world that would exist if they just get off their asses and do something about it...a world that they can rule. Yeah, sometimes it doesn't turn out quite so well...just another part of the method. Just another way of cranking the gears of the world. The Legendary Road of the King is a fate that no man should have...yet, sometimes, when the time is right...it is needed to make the world move. To give form to something that was or has turned out to be meaningless.~~ VOICE: Yes...yes it is. Hmm. ~~It's the school of hard knocks, it's the Socratic method...it's meaning that life really is a bitch, and takes no prisoners. Yeah, people may not like it, people may even criticize it for being brutal, being tough. The truth is that it is the honest way, it's the truth...the world was and never will be that easy...nurturing can only get you so far. After that, the world looks at the new creation and eats it alive...because it's an asshole like that. Because it can, because that is the law of the wild...that is survival. That is how KMD thinks. That is how KMD works.~~ VOICE: ...wouldn't mind having a few choice moments of it to myself, though. ~~The voice lets out a soft chuckle, and then continues to hum the song, pausing at pivotal points in the song. As the camera slowly fades in, we come to a shot of a single streetlamp, shining down on the street and illuminating it's own little piece of the world...giving it form, giving it meaning. Below that light, over the cracked and harshly-patched street, past the cars, past the garbage lying in the gutter, just out of reach of it's true destination...less than a few feet...meer inches...from a dumpster covered in a soft white fluff, below the last remaining few houses with late-night lights on...intruders into the world of the dark, we find him. One man, alone, slowly appearing into the view, humming an old song, softly to himself. As we near the figure, we find him moving...almost weaving...through the sheets of iced-over roads and tipped over garbage cans. The figure's coat, a man standing six and a half feet tall and with shoulders the width of a tractor-trailer, reflects a tiny ammount of light, glinting through it's own inky blackness to some sort of revelation...some inkling of the truth. The man wipes his forehead and puts a large duffel bag down on the ground, leaning it against the lamp post. He wipes his brow, hidden under a plain grey knit cap, and surveys the alleyway, whistling at an opportune moment. He looks at the camera, winking. KMD speaks.~~ KMD: You know, Ebdon, maybe you're right about the whole thing...maybe I've been using tactics that have been base, rude, and harsh...maybe I used my own history and my own power and my own alliances to bring me to the point that I'm at now...maybe my life is a lie...a series of failed attempts at victory, failed only because I threw them away. Failed because I left them behind...left those people behind...leaving on a high-note with little-to-no reasons other than my own obscure and simple explanations...to run from my fate. To live life like everyone else expects. ~~Krev looks around him as the wind picks up a little, rattling the near-by dumpster and kicking an empty Super-sized McDonalds cup across the pavement, knocking around an empty, hollow sound. He looks back up at the camera, grinning.~~ KMD: Maybe I am not worthy to lead this federation. Maybe I'm just a washed-up failure unable to let go of the past and move on with the future. Maybe I'm a base, simple creature like that. Maybe the place I crave...the place I desire...the place that I feel, by my own right and divine purpose, belongs to me. Maybe you're right after all...but I want to pose one question to you, Ebdon. One simple question that you need not answer aloud, but ask of yourself...divine through your own experiences and victories, your own character and your own defeats...I want you to ask yourself, that if KMD is unfit for this purpose, for this place, and that the true person that deserves it is none other than the already 2X IWF champion...I want you to ask yourself: Do you deserve it? ~~Krev cocks his brow at the camera, slightly, as if to press the question even further. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a simple Zippo lighter with "Blunt as Hell SOB" laser-engraved and inset with black on the cover, as well as a crumpled pack of cigarettes...some cheap, no-name corner-store brand in a plain and featureless and ultimately un-rememberable wrapper. He pulls out a single cigarette, plucking it out of the pack...away from the rest of the pack...with his lips. He shoves the pack back down into his pocket, storing it away for another time, and flicks the lighter, creating a swift snap of a clinking sound with one hand. As he brings the lighter up to the end of the cigarette, it is already lit...already poised for action. He takes a few short puffs and puts the lighter back where he got it from. He looks at the camera, slowly nodding his head.~~ KMD: Don't feel pressed to answer that question, don't take this as a reason to give the world a little more insight into what makes the great Pete Ebdon think. Spare us from the agony...spare us from the twisted and demented reasoning. But if you wanted my opinion...and you probably don't...but I'm going to give it anyway, because it will piss you off...take this as a warning, take this as a signal that if you don't want to hear the truth, if you don't want to face the facts, you can shut this off right now. Just turn away and suck it up. I'll give you a moment to decide. ~~Calmly and cooly, KMD pauses, taking another puff from his cigarette. He pouts his lips, creating a wide 'O' with his mouth. Trace ammounts of smoke curls up and around his lip, inhaled through his nose. Slowly, and with little effort, small round puffs begin to billow from his mouth, losing themselves to the night. The same puffs, now expanding, becoming larger, gaining size, turn into a series of concentric rings...like drops of water hitting a calm lake, stretching out into the distance until they are nothing more than mere ripples...broken and distant. He looks back to the camera as the last of the rings breaks apart, it's wisps drifting off lazily into the sky.~~ KMD: Still here? Good...glad to see that you don't ignore everything I say. Then again, you could have just shut it off...if that's the case, then screw you. I'm going to continue anyway. I'm going to tell you why you could never serve as a worthy champion. Go ahead, scoff at it...dismiss it as the ramblings of some old and pitiful fool...but just don't forget it. I hate telling people I told them so...it's so 80's. ~~Krev takes another quick puff, but exhales it quickly, jutting out his lower lip, sending the smoke out into the world faster than it was born and taken into the mouth of greatness. He once again grins at the camera.~~ KMD: A worthy champion is one who does what he does for himself above all else...you seem to complete that part, fulfilling it's every whim and desire. You've become a slave to what you want...and, in a sort of sick and twisted way, that's a good thing. It means you contain within you the will and desire to push yourself to the limits to get what you want...to attain what you desire. But you've let that thrist become all-encompassing. You have let it rule your life, making it the top priority in all matters you deal with. It is always about Ebdon with you, isn't it? It's always about what you want, and screw the world because they never helped you. Your vision, although you were once on the path...on the way to realization of true power...of becoming one of the solid and true greats, has become blurred and obscured...you see the world through a series of translucent red lenses. Everything you see...everything you look at...has become the physical embodiment of base wants and desires. You have used your own abilities to put you at the top of all the party lists, in the minds of all the fed-heads, and at the top of all your relationships. Yeah, the people want you...they want you because you're just another name...a fly-by night messiah of piss on that and gimme this. Your act has become your life...you have turned into a simple creature, and they love you even the more for it. Yeah, they'll call you a jack-ass, yeah they'll think you're a big asshole...but thats because it is what you present to the world. Your reputation has become one that is surrounded with sullied ideas...they buy the image of Pete Ebdon, but they never truly buy Pete Ebdon, do they? ~~Krev pauses as he takes another puff from the cigarette. He motions at the world around him as he exhales, speaking not only to the camera, but to the world.~~ KMD: That's right, world. You bought Pete Ebdon like he was a meaty side of beef or a finely-tuned and over-priced ice sculpture. Just another resource for your ever-growing need for image and names. You have dirtied your own name in an attempt to grow...to expand...to become what it is you always wanted to be...but what happened to the fresh new wrestler, the guy with the stars in his eyes and the urging in his muscles? What happened to the guy who toiled long hours and poured out countless gallons of blood, sweat, and tears? What happened to the young lad, fresh for the grinder and trianed by The House of Windsor, who took his first step onto the mat with all intentions of becoming a legend...of becoming great? What happened to the child you once knew? You'll find him lieing, stealing, cheating, and gambling it all away on a piece of metal...you'll find him attacking his fellow man in fits of blind and ugly desire, batting at their legs like they were bowling pins, ripe to be knocked down. You'll find him destroying the same man he once called teacher, only to urge himself along even further...to become all that he ever desired, and all that his mentor never could be. You'll find a wicked and scheming creature, eyes bulging and skin warped, prodding along in the shadows, waiting for the right time to make his move...waiting, cunningly, for the first sign of weakness...chanting about a golden, powerful adornment..."My precioussssssssss...." ~~He takes another puff from the cigarette, it's body slightly bent, a tiny crack forming along the top of it at the bend's apex. Smoke swirls from the broken hole. Krev frowns at the cigarette, and flicks it from between his pointer finger and thump, into a nearby snowbank, a tiny hissing noise issueing from somewhere offscreen.~~ KMD: I've been meaning to quit that anyway...those things kill, you know? I've been meaning to quit a lot of things...but, well, sometimes you fall victim to your own short-comings...your own little escapes from reality. Sometimes the addiction takes over, and you have to hang on. Fail to hang on, and you die...simple as that. No point in living a life without reason...without purpose. Thats why we need to find that meaning, to find that purpose. It's what fuels us. ~~Krev shivers, and pulls the knit cap down over his head further.~~ KMD: It's what fuels me. Yeah, I have a drinking problem, but it isn't a problem I've ignored. It's a problem I wake up with every morning, staring into a cracked and jagged mirror ate the mere shadow of my own face...ugly bags under my eyes and a red nose. Sometimes my eyes are bloodshot. Sometimes I just don't get up because the pain of living is much worse than anything that could happen if I buried my head back under the pillow and wished it all away. Then the light doesn't get through...then I don't have to face the day. Just another [CENSORED]ing sob story, huh? Nothing AA couldn't cure, right? ~~The wind picks back up a little, moving the same discarded cup back across the street, letting it come to rest against the side of an over-turned garbage can. A car can be heard some distance off.~~ KMD: I'm working through it...I'm making changes. I'm facing my fears, I'm coming to terms with what and who I am...I'm willing to do that, not because I want it, but because its what people deserve. I'm not treating them the way I always did anymore. Nothing is meaningless, no one is pointless. Every stack of carbon on this little green globe is a person capable of greatness...capable of overcoming those base urges. Even you, Ebdon. Even you. ~~Krev lets out a short chortle, and looks off into the distance, tracing the far skyline partially obscured with smog with his eyes. He speaks to the distance.~~ KMD: It's because I do what I do for myself, and then for the people...that's why I'm great. Thats why when people hear my name their ears perk up and interest crosses their faces...it's because I've made an impact. I've fulfilled my duty as a man of the people...as a man working for the very same people who may hate him, the very same people who may spit on his name, or look on it with fear...I've done my time, I've done my duty. I've been the humanitarian, I've been the hero. Its because of all of this, this need to right the wrong, this code of quasi-chivalry, it's because of this I live on. I proved to myself long, long ago that I am great, I am a legend, I am a hero, I proved to myself that I was who I wanted to become, and that I was a leader of men...that I was able to carry the world on my shoulders...as well as walk away from it when I felt it was right...when I felt that justice has been served, that humanity is one step closer to realizing who and what they really are. ~~He looks back at the camera.~~ KMD: I'm not claiming to be a messiah, I'm not claiming to be God. I'm just blood and flesh, like you, trying my damndest to help out the world. I'm not claiming to have some sort of profound knowledge, some sort of mystical power or enlightenment. All I know is what I've learned, what I've seen, and what I feel. I don't believe in anything...but I have a pretty damn good idea as to how it all works. I'm willing to go off of those gut feelings, those basic reactions because it feels right...it doesn't feel like that tight ball of anger, and it doesn't feel like that itching pulse in your fingers that goads you onward to slaughter a culture in the name of your own tastes. It feels good. It feels right. ~~Krev leans over and picks up the duffel bag, tossing it's strap over his shoulder and letting it cut into it, the weight of the load balance on his back. He leans forward, slightly, absorbing the weight and making sure the center of gravity is square on his back. He looks back up at the camera, motioning it to follow him.~~ KMD: And you're wrong, Ebdon. You have it all wrong...I'm nothing like you. Anymore. One time, yeah, I was there...I did the dirty work, I did the dirty deed dirt cheap. I've taken the easy way, I've lied, I've stolen, I've turned my back on friends...I've done everything you've done, maybe more. I've had my world shatter around me and then take a shit on what was left...I've seen the world go away, I've seen it turn it's back on one of it's greatest...because I did it to them. Because I decided that one more time was too much, so I turned away from it all, becoming nothing more than just another nameless and faceless monster bent on getting revenge on a world that happened to not like me one morning. I was like you, Ebdon. There's no doubts about that...but I'm no longer like you. I've looked beyond that...I've realized what I did, and I made ammends. I made a vow...never to do that to my world again. Never to let anyone do that to my world again. You're trying to do that to my world, Ebdon, and I don't like that. Not one bit. ~~He steps out of the light and into the darkness, and makes his way up a loose and rackety set of wooden steps that cut their way back and forth...switchback...over the small hill. He reaches the top, a small gap between two buildings that is the width of one sidewalk...enough room to walk through to the next street, wide enough for KMD's shoulders and the large sack of laundry on them. He turns back around to face the camera.~~ KMD: I can't and I won't let that happen...not now, not ever. That is why you are unfit to be champion...that is why it is my job to make sure that you don't become champion...not until there are a few changes in your world-view...namely, accepting it. You can't make the world in your image, Ebdon. You are not God, and you are not the next step in evolution. You're only bet is to accept your world, and work to make it a more desirable place to live. You are in a position of doing that, but you turn your back on it...you look only to your own needs and desires. "The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for"...yeah, I believe in that. The second part, anyway. We can't get the world thats wonderful unless we go for it...unless we make those dreams become reality. I know, you don't care...all you care about is yourself. Fine, live that way...because you'll just die thinking the same thing. Completely cold and remote...but you'd have your gold, wouldn't you? ~~KMD turns and begins to walk up the alleyway, speaking over his own footfalls to the camera, his head down and watching for patches of ice. He steps around one of them.~~ KMD: You would indeed have your gold...you can always take comfort in that. They won't keep you warm, and they're pretty much worthless when you get down to it...but you will have those useless pieces of metal to string around your body...to put up a shield...to protect you from the evils of a world that hates you because of who you are...or hates you because you show them a version of yourself that just isn't all that nice when you get down to it. I'm sure your wife loves you very much...but if gold is all you desire, if the glory of the ring is all you want...why do you even waste her time? Obviously she's seen something inside of you...and if that thing is still there, why not take it out and give it a spin? I'm willing to bet that you'd have at least one less case of heartburn in the morning. ~~KMD pauses at the end of the alleyway, turning around, the bag rubbing up against the wall. He looks at the camera with a cold face...one chilled to reason.~~ KMD: I'm not telling you to just give it up and try to be a good guy. I know you won't do that, and I'd probably think less of you if you just turned right around all of a sudden. That would mean you lost your will, that would mean you lost your fight...I don't want that. I want someone who is strong and determined with a will harder to crack than a petrified walnut...that is the person suited for the task at hand. But until you can show me that person, I'm not going to let you near that title...I'm not going to even give you any leeway. ~~Krev turns back around and prods up the steps. He tosses the over-filled bag into the entryway and turns back around, digging in his pocket for keys.~~ KMD: Yeah, I'd be delighted to throw out the rules for the match that, in your mind, is the only fate of the IWF. Yeah, I'm willing to throw it all into the ring...and out of the ring...in an attempt to claim the prize at the top of the world. I'm willing to do that, because I, 1. know that that is where I rule supreme, and 2. that I know that it is what needs to be done. I'm going to have to speak a little louder, shout a little stronger in your ear. If that takes me bending a trashcan or a crowbar around your head, so be it. I'm willing to bleed and...heaven forbid...die for the cause I'm in pursuit of. If I fail, I fail...there are always other men like me out there willing to do the work...but to stop me, you would first have to kill me. Despite what you do, despite what your simple little mind thinks it can pull against me...knocking me out...cutting off my limbs...shotting me...whatever...I'll be back for you. I'll make sure you are tested and trialed...see if you really are what you claim you are. ~~Krev plunges the keys into the door, turning it slowly. We hear a "CLICK" as the tumblers roll into place. Krev pushes on the door, but pauses in mid-push, turning back to the camera.~~ KMD: Because I've been wrong before...because I'm only human. I'm only a man. I've made worst judgement calls, and I'm ready to make sure I wasn't wrong this time...I'm ready to stick around as long as it takes until I am comfortable with the knowledge that things are well...things are pure. Things are the way things used to be...wrestling is wrestling, and nothing more than just another sport with it's share of athletes. Yeah, there are always going to be scumbags out there willing to sell their own mother for a title-shot, but we can deal with them...and, with a little work, we can change them. ~~He pushes the door the rest of the way open and tosses in his duffel bag. He turns back around, standing in the entryway, on the verge of two worlds...the outside uncaring world, and the world of his secluded and shambled home. He lets a small smile cross his face.~~ KMD: I'm not expecting you to work with me...not yet. I'm sure you would have a few choice words on that front...but I'm just speaking to you one competitor to another, whether or not you actually listen. I have a message, and to not put out that message because I know my target isn't listening is pointless. It would be like having talent and not using it, or buying cars and never driving them. I'm not trying to change beliefs, I'm not trying to revolutionize the world...I'm just putting in my 2-cents, maybe pointing some heads down a road that is loaded with way more benifits and half the troubles. Take it as you will, but I will preach on until my dying day. ~~He looks out past the camera, into the early-morning street.~~ KMD: This match has something, to me, to prove, Ebdon. Every match has something to prove. Prove to yourself your own worth, and then maybe we can talk. Prove to me that you're more than the one-sided, shallow, and blind figure you present, and we can talk...hell, we can even make your ass famous beyond belief...but you have to prove to yourself first that you are not worthless...that there is something inside of you. Something more than a bitter Brit looking to exact revenge on a country that hates him and rule federations from behind worthless pieces of metal. I've been there, Ebdon. I've seen the world from that angle...the fruits may be sweet at first, but the taste they leave in your mouth long beyond is bitter beyond belief. I'm still trying to get that taste out of my mouth...and, trust me, it doesn't come out easy. ~~Krev looks at the camera and smiles.~~ KMD: But you won't listen, will you? You'll still come back even snappier and scheming. I'm training for our match. No doubt about that...but I'm training to make sure you don't succeed. Nothing is set in stone, and the path of laziness will get you nowhere...the road to hell is paved with good intentions, but if I don't keep up on practice, if I don't constantly fine-tune myself, work myself into perfection...even in these years that is beyond the normal scope of an athlete...then that's all I have. Good intentions. No one has ever gotten a damn thing done with just good intentions. Does my training and studying make me afraid of you? ~~He shakes his head.~~ KMD: Truthfully, no. I'm afraid of what you could do to the IWF, not me. I've stopped caring about my own well-being when I came to the realization that I do what I have to do to survive. I've accepted my fate...I'll lay dead on a stretcher somewhere in some back-woods bingo hall, staring up at a stained and dusty roof, wondering if I will ever walk again. I know that, and I've accepted that...but this is not the time, and this is not the place. I'm too far in now to go back...I have a lot of work ahead of me before I hang up the boots. You are not the one to kill me, Ebdon. You're just another potential student... ~~Krev steps into the doorway, unbuttoning his coat.~~ KMD: ...and I'm the master. Sit down and shut up, or jump up and down like a maniac. Listen to me, or laugh at me. Either way, in the end, you'll be taught a lesson you won't ever forget. You say Windsor always held me in high respects...come Wrestlepolooza, pending I get through the fed's fresh blood, you'll understand why. You'll see why KMD is called the King of Legends. ~~The scene slowly fades to black, KMD's face inprinted on the screen with a look of complete focus and determination. Before we fade completely out, he lets a small, meek smile loose, shattering the image. He closes his eyes and turns from the camera as blackness takes over.~~ |
