Post by adm on Jun 4, 2011 10:10:21 GMT -6
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Just like old times, seeing so many faces on the screen as I refresh myself with the sordid past I have left behind. But how far behind have I left it? Am I even capable of getting back into a wrestling ring? My body is flabby. My muscles have begun to sag like balloons. I'm thirty-three years old, can I still do this? I have scars on my body from the last time I was here. I have...
{Gib pulls bates back to his feet, he takes him over to the center of the cage and takes his head under his arm, he lifts Bates up and goes for the Gib-Buster but Bates shifts his body and comes down behind him. Bates goes to grab Gib's arm and neck in what appears to be a cobra clutch but Gib throws his head back and catches Bates in the nose. Bates staggers back, Gib turns and Bates takes a swing at him. Gib ducks it, grabs Bates and lifts up and nails the METAL HEALTH right in the center of the cage, causing the panel to collapse and sending both men through the top of the cage and crashing into the ring!}
Eric Hardy: NO NO NO!
Kelly Knite: I can't watch... are they ok!?
Willy Carter: Gib nails the Metal Health through the cage! Holy hell....
Kelly Knite: this isn't good...
{Both men lay broken in the ring as the referee checks on them. Gib somehow manages to turn over where he limply throws his arm over the chest of Bates and the referee counts 1....2...3. The fans are on their feet chanting “NCW”.}
The last time I was in an nCw ring, I lost for the first time against a friend and rival, Gib. The scars I left on him will last a lifetime, but the ones he left to my ego after that last match may never even close to become scars. I remember when I was feared around here, when I was the only man to stand up against him as Homeless Harold and win. When I had a year of almost no losses. When one of my VERY FEW losses was against Adam Knite, then Champion of nCw. I was feared, respected, and then it all fell apart. What happened to me a year ago when Zane and I won the belts? I was so high, but then we lost within a week and there was nothing but disgrace to follow me forever more.
That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
****
The sudden smell of rancid liquor and ammonia fills the room of this one-horse bar in the wrong side of town. Kristoff Liam Bates does not fit in whatsoever. His suit, though looking a bit musty from the rain the other day, is still far too nice for the biker and drug-addict crowd this place usually calls. He sits on a half-broken bar stool, his shoulders, flabby as they are, still massive enough to illicit fear from most of the brutes who come. He is an eyesore within an eyesore, and he doesn't seem to care.
"Give me another, bartender."
"This would be your third Whiskey on the rocks, you think you can drive home?"
"I didn't drive, I walked. Now give me another"
The bartender eyes him with suspicion, not wanting another customer to get arrested and take away his precious rent money. He serves Bates the drink in a dusty and yellowed glass, but he doesn't care. In a few gulps, he downs the new drink. Bates' body shivers as the drink makes its way to his stomach. Cold whiskey on a sour stomach, soon he shall fall into the trap of alcoholism. The small television above the bar fades to static and the customers begin to shout. The bartender hits it once with the side of his hand, only to have it resume with a commercial for nCw Collision.
"nCw, that's the ****. We get a big crowd in here every week for that show."
Bates scoffs, only to look up and see his former comrade, Rob Diamond, trouncing around with the one title he wanted, and failed to even get a second shot at. Rob Diamond, World Champion. Bates grabs the glass and throws it at the television. Luckily for him, his double-vision causes it to slam against the wall behind and shatter, instead of taking out the television.
"Hey, you're going to pay for that glass, buddy!"
"I don't f**king care. I know Rob Diamond."
"Haha, look at this drunken slob. He thinks he knows the champ."
"Do you know who I am?"
Bates looks at the bartender, as if he expects a miracle. The bartender doesn't even know. Bates turns around, all the bikers and druggies give him stares as if he's crazy.
"You don't know me at all? Am I so easily forgotten?"
"Who the f**k are you, buddy. And you damn well better be paying for that glass, because if you don't soon, I'll throw you out."
Bates pulls out his wallet and gives him a twenty for the glass and the last drink and stands up. He loses his footing a little and falls to one knee. He is kneeling in the dried vomit of the last man who was too drunk, and the fetid smell rises into his nostrils.
"I once was a champion. I once was someone. Now I'm nothing, I'm just a drunk and deserving of my suit in the vomit stained floor. My blood once graced that television. I spilled Gib's blood, Diamond's blood, even the blood of Falcon. I once was someone."
"Yeah, and I'm the ****ing tooth-fairy."
He's had enough. Bates turns around and grabs the biggest man in the bar and pulls him to the ground. The other drunks don't even try to help as they watch him be put into the Suffocating Cubicle.
"Do you know...who I am...NOW?"
Bates lets go of the biker, as he gasps for breath. He dusts off the dirty suit and grabs the briefcase, opening it to reveal it as the letter opener he once used on Homeless Harold.
"You will ALL know who I am again very soon. I'm not a dead man. I'm not a ghost. I'm just hollow. Hollow and empty from what they did to me. I was disgraced. I will rise again. If only to prove the derelicts of society I still exist. I will rise again."
Sometimes, it's falling into the grave that allows you to climb back out. Sometimes you need to feel like you have lost everything before you can be something. I once was Perfectly Normal, but now I just exist. I need to find myself, and the only place that will still accept me is just a short jaunt away. I'll see you all soon...VERY...soon.[/i]
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Just like old times, seeing so many faces on the screen as I refresh myself with the sordid past I have left behind. But how far behind have I left it? Am I even capable of getting back into a wrestling ring? My body is flabby. My muscles have begun to sag like balloons. I'm thirty-three years old, can I still do this? I have scars on my body from the last time I was here. I have...
{Gib pulls bates back to his feet, he takes him over to the center of the cage and takes his head under his arm, he lifts Bates up and goes for the Gib-Buster but Bates shifts his body and comes down behind him. Bates goes to grab Gib's arm and neck in what appears to be a cobra clutch but Gib throws his head back and catches Bates in the nose. Bates staggers back, Gib turns and Bates takes a swing at him. Gib ducks it, grabs Bates and lifts up and nails the METAL HEALTH right in the center of the cage, causing the panel to collapse and sending both men through the top of the cage and crashing into the ring!}
Eric Hardy: NO NO NO!
Kelly Knite: I can't watch... are they ok!?
Willy Carter: Gib nails the Metal Health through the cage! Holy hell....
Kelly Knite: this isn't good...
{Both men lay broken in the ring as the referee checks on them. Gib somehow manages to turn over where he limply throws his arm over the chest of Bates and the referee counts 1....2...3. The fans are on their feet chanting “NCW”.}
The last time I was in an nCw ring, I lost for the first time against a friend and rival, Gib. The scars I left on him will last a lifetime, but the ones he left to my ego after that last match may never even close to become scars. I remember when I was feared around here, when I was the only man to stand up against him as Homeless Harold and win. When I had a year of almost no losses. When one of my VERY FEW losses was against Adam Knite, then Champion of nCw. I was feared, respected, and then it all fell apart. What happened to me a year ago when Zane and I won the belts? I was so high, but then we lost within a week and there was nothing but disgrace to follow me forever more.
That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
****
The sudden smell of rancid liquor and ammonia fills the room of this one-horse bar in the wrong side of town. Kristoff Liam Bates does not fit in whatsoever. His suit, though looking a bit musty from the rain the other day, is still far too nice for the biker and drug-addict crowd this place usually calls. He sits on a half-broken bar stool, his shoulders, flabby as they are, still massive enough to illicit fear from most of the brutes who come. He is an eyesore within an eyesore, and he doesn't seem to care.
"Give me another, bartender."
"This would be your third Whiskey on the rocks, you think you can drive home?"
"I didn't drive, I walked. Now give me another"
The bartender eyes him with suspicion, not wanting another customer to get arrested and take away his precious rent money. He serves Bates the drink in a dusty and yellowed glass, but he doesn't care. In a few gulps, he downs the new drink. Bates' body shivers as the drink makes its way to his stomach. Cold whiskey on a sour stomach, soon he shall fall into the trap of alcoholism. The small television above the bar fades to static and the customers begin to shout. The bartender hits it once with the side of his hand, only to have it resume with a commercial for nCw Collision.
"nCw, that's the ****. We get a big crowd in here every week for that show."
Bates scoffs, only to look up and see his former comrade, Rob Diamond, trouncing around with the one title he wanted, and failed to even get a second shot at. Rob Diamond, World Champion. Bates grabs the glass and throws it at the television. Luckily for him, his double-vision causes it to slam against the wall behind and shatter, instead of taking out the television.
"Hey, you're going to pay for that glass, buddy!"
"I don't f**king care. I know Rob Diamond."
"Haha, look at this drunken slob. He thinks he knows the champ."
"Do you know who I am?"
Bates looks at the bartender, as if he expects a miracle. The bartender doesn't even know. Bates turns around, all the bikers and druggies give him stares as if he's crazy.
"You don't know me at all? Am I so easily forgotten?"
"Who the f**k are you, buddy. And you damn well better be paying for that glass, because if you don't soon, I'll throw you out."
Bates pulls out his wallet and gives him a twenty for the glass and the last drink and stands up. He loses his footing a little and falls to one knee. He is kneeling in the dried vomit of the last man who was too drunk, and the fetid smell rises into his nostrils.
"I once was a champion. I once was someone. Now I'm nothing, I'm just a drunk and deserving of my suit in the vomit stained floor. My blood once graced that television. I spilled Gib's blood, Diamond's blood, even the blood of Falcon. I once was someone."
"Yeah, and I'm the ****ing tooth-fairy."
He's had enough. Bates turns around and grabs the biggest man in the bar and pulls him to the ground. The other drunks don't even try to help as they watch him be put into the Suffocating Cubicle.
"Do you know...who I am...NOW?"
Bates lets go of the biker, as he gasps for breath. He dusts off the dirty suit and grabs the briefcase, opening it to reveal it as the letter opener he once used on Homeless Harold.
"You will ALL know who I am again very soon. I'm not a dead man. I'm not a ghost. I'm just hollow. Hollow and empty from what they did to me. I was disgraced. I will rise again. If only to prove the derelicts of society I still exist. I will rise again."
Sometimes, it's falling into the grave that allows you to climb back out. Sometimes you need to feel like you have lost everything before you can be something. I once was Perfectly Normal, but now I just exist. I need to find myself, and the only place that will still accept me is just a short jaunt away. I'll see you all soon...VERY...soon.[/i]