Post by "Godly" Ken Davison on Aug 18, 2012 19:31:22 GMT -6
The torrential rain falls relentlessly from the night sky. From the street light, we can see the silhouette of what seems to be an old man walking next to some large, rusted metal doors embedded in the side of a gray concrete building. The old man walks with an addled gait, carrying what appears to be a large briefcase along side him. He huddles for shelter underneath his shoddy umbrella. The man finally makes his way to a metal door that has been painted a disgusting shade of orange. The door, which slightly shorter than the man, opens with a loud creek as it is pulled open. The man puts the case down just long enough to close his umbrella before picking it back up and hobbling inside.
Inside is a collection of random objects, with wooden chairs stacked randomly on atop another. Televisions are located even more randomly throughout the mess, some working, others dead and vacant. The few working screens provide some light, as the gray static “snow” flies across the screen. The white noise of the televisions searching for signal fills the air. The only other light is provided by dim and flickering light bulbs overhead that bathe the room. The camera's follow behind the old man as best they can, but they seem to lose him as he turns a corner.
Suddenly, all of the televisions come to life, with the face of the NCW X Champion appearing on the screen. His head is tilted downward, so that brim of the top hat he is wearing partially obscures his face. His eyes seems to be focused on something off in the distance, as the eyeliner he is wearing manages to make his glare that much more pronounced.
”Come one. Come all. Welcome to the midnight circus. Allow me to introduce myself. I am your ringmaster...” Laroux finally turns and directly faces the camera. ”N... V... Laroux!!!” As he finishes the words, the television screens go blank and a mirror off the the side shatters as maniacal laughter fills the air.
The camera crew turns the corner, and there stands the old man underneath the first bright light in the building. Behind the man is a wall covered in masks, dartboards, posters and other assorted items. His wrinkled fingers are pressed against the buttons and keys of the accordion in his hands. There is a slight trembling before the man begins to start playing. The song is slow and melancholy sounding. It is haunting, and eerily similar to Chopin's “Funeral March”.
The light above the old man flickers and burns out, and the only light provided seems to be coming from a door behind the old man. As the camera gets closer to the door, shadows begin dancing around the lights outside hang off of a wire sway in the breeze. A dark haired woman is shackled to a black iron cage by one wrist. In front of her, two gymnasts in white pants flips past her with amazing grace and agility.
To one side is a beautiful Asian woman, her hair dyed in a dark chestnut. Her brown hair is a contrast the the pure white dress she wears. On a brass swing about five feet of the ground, she sits, completely motionless, as though she has been frozen in time. One the other side is another Asian women, with light brown hair. She is shackled to a wooden board, with knives sticking out of the wood around her. She too is motionless.
Overhead, the light bulbs begin to flash off and on. Aside from the three “statues”, all the other performers scatter out of view. There is are a bunch of assorted stuff... couches, golf clubs, tables, cabinets, televisions... creating a ring. In the center of this all is several women, all matching in appearance. Their hair has been colored a dark cyan. They are all wearing white body suits with pink dresses over theme. Their faces have been painted to match their body suits. They almost appear to be made of porcelain. They are surrounding the man we have been looking for. He is dressed in a black tuxedo, with the top hat and the NCW X Championship being worn in place of a cummerbund. He stands, looking straight forward, with a small flame burning in his palms. He blows out the flame and the women start dancing about, moving like they are being controlled by the strings of a puppeteer.
”If can push and push and push, but you won’t find happiness, Mikey, Sunday won’t come again. No, no, no... you would think that at some point the time has already… that the past would have come on and woNV you up. You need to face reality, Laszlo. Put away the fake hope of being like you were not even one short month ago. If you just fight and argue all the time, it’s just so... “ Laroux yawns for effect. ”Boring. Yes, people go crazy over the habitual competition. Look at me. But most people, they are trapped in the same restrictions. They feel that they have to follow society's rules of conformity. They get buried without anyone knowing, not even them selves. Come on and wake the hell up, Laszlo. You want to live in the past so much? Embrace “Slayer” the way you used to. Put away all the fake theories of what you want to be and embrace what you truly are. If you just kiss up and line things up all the time you go crazy.”
Laroux puckers his lips and blows an air kiss to the camera.
”Who's ass are you going to kiss this week, Laszlo? Maybe Velez is going to need to remove your lips from his ass so you can even show up for the pawn shop match. What I want to know, and I mean truly and honestly want to know, is what is this song you sing? I know what it is. It’s an echo of wanting to live peacefully, like winning the X Championship back will give you some sort of calm. Now, this song is a melody. The peaceful sonata of my laughter, because I know that you are going to try your best to defeat me and you are going to fail. It’s a mirage of an untouchable happiness.”
“It’s a dizzy world that goes round and round but this time, things are going to be different, Mike. You are still the same. You are going to play the same tired old game and follow the same tired old formula where to talk some trash, talk about how the fact that I have beaten not only once, but twice, was a fluke. You are going to talk about how you were the longest reigning champion in NCW. You are going to drift off to some memory that has nothing to do with our match, and then you are going to try and lay some more verbal smack down out there.”
“On the other hand, when I lift up my head no one is there. No one is above me. There’s no need to look around in caution. I am the be all and end all, Laszlo. While you sit there and back deals in the shadows with men like Velez, everything I do is done plain as day. But you, and all those who became sinners and danced and played, can come here to my midnight circus... here, here, come here and gather together... so that it may be that much easier to smite you.”
The woman on the swing begins to sway back and forth. The shackled woman rattles her cage, hoping to draw someone's attention. Laroux pulls a knife from the inside of his jacket. He slides the blade along his arm, causing his blood to coat the blade. He then licks the blood off the blade before flicking his wrist, the blade landing underneath the arm of the woman shackled to the board.
”I want to step out to the future. But I’m like a clown tied with a string, I'm tethered to you, Laszlo. So long as I am, I ride a dangerous roller coaster. You are counting on the fact that I am at the top of the climb, ready for the steep drop. But where as you think that means I will be falling down, I look at it is gaining momentum. Momentum that I will use to run through you, run through Velez, and anyone else who is stupid enough to align themselves with you. I don't care if I am bleeding. I don't care if my bones are broNV. It doesn't matter. The show must go on, never stop. Never, ever stop.”
I can already picture how this is going to go. Before this all starts, you’re laughing while you look at me. You think that because I am playing your game that I am going to play by your rules. But things are different this time. You'd like for NV to be in control. But not this time. I’m possessed again. I’m dancing under these bright lights. I look around, and I remember our first encounter. I remember this is like a prison without bars. This is an entertaining party that fits everyone. It's is like a tragic comedy. Even though this time is different, it somehow feels the same. It’s like a gamble with no stage... Looking up to see the lights... Bowing to the same people... This time, however, I go back to the top. If you’re not responsible for it then let me enjoy your demise.”
Laroux smiles slyly as some acrobats flip past him.
”Still, the show must go on. And I should never, ever dream. For a year I dreamed of a memory. And even in my dreams, she made that ironic laugh when I cried. You’re laughing while you look at me. You find humor in my suffering. Well, the humor you find will be lost tomorrow, Laszlo. Because I have three things that I need to do tomorrow. One, never look back. Two, never listen to anyone else, for they all doubt me. Three, and get ready, here comes the highlight of the show... WATCH... YOU... FALL.”
Somewhere above all of this, a small tear widens underneath the pressure of the rain. As the fury of the heavens comes hammering down on them, the various performers scatter, all but the center of attention. The NCW X Champion is completely unphased by the sudden change in environment.
”They say when it rains, it pours. And a truer analogy could not be true in this case. Do you think that you have anything going for you? Do you really think that using your “Phone A Friend” lifeline really takes anything away from me? Hell, no. It empowers me. Because I know that in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind, that means that you feel like you can't beat me on your own. And right now, the deepest, darkest corners of the mind are exactly where I find myself at home. And then you are going to put me in a place where I can play with any toy I want? All I'm saying is that if you find your testicles stapled to the floor, it's not my fault. After all, this was your idea.”
Laroux takes the arm he cut open and smears the blood across his face, then taking his finger and spelling the word “DIE!” on his forehead, staring into the camera the entire time.
Inside is a collection of random objects, with wooden chairs stacked randomly on atop another. Televisions are located even more randomly throughout the mess, some working, others dead and vacant. The few working screens provide some light, as the gray static “snow” flies across the screen. The white noise of the televisions searching for signal fills the air. The only other light is provided by dim and flickering light bulbs overhead that bathe the room. The camera's follow behind the old man as best they can, but they seem to lose him as he turns a corner.
Suddenly, all of the televisions come to life, with the face of the NCW X Champion appearing on the screen. His head is tilted downward, so that brim of the top hat he is wearing partially obscures his face. His eyes seems to be focused on something off in the distance, as the eyeliner he is wearing manages to make his glare that much more pronounced.
”Come one. Come all. Welcome to the midnight circus. Allow me to introduce myself. I am your ringmaster...” Laroux finally turns and directly faces the camera. ”N... V... Laroux!!!” As he finishes the words, the television screens go blank and a mirror off the the side shatters as maniacal laughter fills the air.
The camera crew turns the corner, and there stands the old man underneath the first bright light in the building. Behind the man is a wall covered in masks, dartboards, posters and other assorted items. His wrinkled fingers are pressed against the buttons and keys of the accordion in his hands. There is a slight trembling before the man begins to start playing. The song is slow and melancholy sounding. It is haunting, and eerily similar to Chopin's “Funeral March”.
The light above the old man flickers and burns out, and the only light provided seems to be coming from a door behind the old man. As the camera gets closer to the door, shadows begin dancing around the lights outside hang off of a wire sway in the breeze. A dark haired woman is shackled to a black iron cage by one wrist. In front of her, two gymnasts in white pants flips past her with amazing grace and agility.
To one side is a beautiful Asian woman, her hair dyed in a dark chestnut. Her brown hair is a contrast the the pure white dress she wears. On a brass swing about five feet of the ground, she sits, completely motionless, as though she has been frozen in time. One the other side is another Asian women, with light brown hair. She is shackled to a wooden board, with knives sticking out of the wood around her. She too is motionless.
Overhead, the light bulbs begin to flash off and on. Aside from the three “statues”, all the other performers scatter out of view. There is are a bunch of assorted stuff... couches, golf clubs, tables, cabinets, televisions... creating a ring. In the center of this all is several women, all matching in appearance. Their hair has been colored a dark cyan. They are all wearing white body suits with pink dresses over theme. Their faces have been painted to match their body suits. They almost appear to be made of porcelain. They are surrounding the man we have been looking for. He is dressed in a black tuxedo, with the top hat and the NCW X Championship being worn in place of a cummerbund. He stands, looking straight forward, with a small flame burning in his palms. He blows out the flame and the women start dancing about, moving like they are being controlled by the strings of a puppeteer.
”If can push and push and push, but you won’t find happiness, Mikey, Sunday won’t come again. No, no, no... you would think that at some point the time has already… that the past would have come on and woNV you up. You need to face reality, Laszlo. Put away the fake hope of being like you were not even one short month ago. If you just fight and argue all the time, it’s just so... “ Laroux yawns for effect. ”Boring. Yes, people go crazy over the habitual competition. Look at me. But most people, they are trapped in the same restrictions. They feel that they have to follow society's rules of conformity. They get buried without anyone knowing, not even them selves. Come on and wake the hell up, Laszlo. You want to live in the past so much? Embrace “Slayer” the way you used to. Put away all the fake theories of what you want to be and embrace what you truly are. If you just kiss up and line things up all the time you go crazy.”
Laroux puckers his lips and blows an air kiss to the camera.
”Who's ass are you going to kiss this week, Laszlo? Maybe Velez is going to need to remove your lips from his ass so you can even show up for the pawn shop match. What I want to know, and I mean truly and honestly want to know, is what is this song you sing? I know what it is. It’s an echo of wanting to live peacefully, like winning the X Championship back will give you some sort of calm. Now, this song is a melody. The peaceful sonata of my laughter, because I know that you are going to try your best to defeat me and you are going to fail. It’s a mirage of an untouchable happiness.”
“It’s a dizzy world that goes round and round but this time, things are going to be different, Mike. You are still the same. You are going to play the same tired old game and follow the same tired old formula where to talk some trash, talk about how the fact that I have beaten not only once, but twice, was a fluke. You are going to talk about how you were the longest reigning champion in NCW. You are going to drift off to some memory that has nothing to do with our match, and then you are going to try and lay some more verbal smack down out there.”
“On the other hand, when I lift up my head no one is there. No one is above me. There’s no need to look around in caution. I am the be all and end all, Laszlo. While you sit there and back deals in the shadows with men like Velez, everything I do is done plain as day. But you, and all those who became sinners and danced and played, can come here to my midnight circus... here, here, come here and gather together... so that it may be that much easier to smite you.”
The woman on the swing begins to sway back and forth. The shackled woman rattles her cage, hoping to draw someone's attention. Laroux pulls a knife from the inside of his jacket. He slides the blade along his arm, causing his blood to coat the blade. He then licks the blood off the blade before flicking his wrist, the blade landing underneath the arm of the woman shackled to the board.
”I want to step out to the future. But I’m like a clown tied with a string, I'm tethered to you, Laszlo. So long as I am, I ride a dangerous roller coaster. You are counting on the fact that I am at the top of the climb, ready for the steep drop. But where as you think that means I will be falling down, I look at it is gaining momentum. Momentum that I will use to run through you, run through Velez, and anyone else who is stupid enough to align themselves with you. I don't care if I am bleeding. I don't care if my bones are broNV. It doesn't matter. The show must go on, never stop. Never, ever stop.”
I can already picture how this is going to go. Before this all starts, you’re laughing while you look at me. You think that because I am playing your game that I am going to play by your rules. But things are different this time. You'd like for NV to be in control. But not this time. I’m possessed again. I’m dancing under these bright lights. I look around, and I remember our first encounter. I remember this is like a prison without bars. This is an entertaining party that fits everyone. It's is like a tragic comedy. Even though this time is different, it somehow feels the same. It’s like a gamble with no stage... Looking up to see the lights... Bowing to the same people... This time, however, I go back to the top. If you’re not responsible for it then let me enjoy your demise.”
Laroux smiles slyly as some acrobats flip past him.
”Still, the show must go on. And I should never, ever dream. For a year I dreamed of a memory. And even in my dreams, she made that ironic laugh when I cried. You’re laughing while you look at me. You find humor in my suffering. Well, the humor you find will be lost tomorrow, Laszlo. Because I have three things that I need to do tomorrow. One, never look back. Two, never listen to anyone else, for they all doubt me. Three, and get ready, here comes the highlight of the show... WATCH... YOU... FALL.”
Somewhere above all of this, a small tear widens underneath the pressure of the rain. As the fury of the heavens comes hammering down on them, the various performers scatter, all but the center of attention. The NCW X Champion is completely unphased by the sudden change in environment.
”They say when it rains, it pours. And a truer analogy could not be true in this case. Do you think that you have anything going for you? Do you really think that using your “Phone A Friend” lifeline really takes anything away from me? Hell, no. It empowers me. Because I know that in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind, that means that you feel like you can't beat me on your own. And right now, the deepest, darkest corners of the mind are exactly where I find myself at home. And then you are going to put me in a place where I can play with any toy I want? All I'm saying is that if you find your testicles stapled to the floor, it's not my fault. After all, this was your idea.”
Laroux takes the arm he cut open and smears the blood across his face, then taking his finger and spelling the word “DIE!” on his forehead, staring into the camera the entire time.
