Post by The Brothers Holland on Apr 4, 2008 18:47:24 GMT -6
Epic is a word that gets thrown around an awful lot these days. It's a word people use to describe something that they feel close to and is going to be better than average. People underestimate just what it means to be truly epic. They fail to comprehend the lengths and the exertions required to put something out there.. to show something.. to do something that is truly... epic. Epic is also a word that can be attributed to a series of events... an endless stream of story or battle or even just happenstance. People will call these epic once they go beyond more than two or three repeats. They take quantity over quality and are happy to give it the title.. epic. There have been many epics in history but fewer than will be believed. England Versus Germany will always be epic... NFC versus AFC will always be epic... Muhammad Ali versus George Forman was always going to be epic... Lance Ryan versus Dave Holland....? These two men are the epitome of wrestling. Neither man willing to give up, neither man willing to back down, always fighting, always struggling, always seeking for ways to improve.. to better themselves to become the very best in the business.
But epic?.... Time will tell for certain but it's shaping up that way.
*Birdsong. It's not loud and it's not constant but the sound of them chirping can be heard every now and again. They greet the dawn in the only way that nature has discovered to be pleasant. The light of the early morning sun shines brightly over the ground. Everything in view glistens with a golden dew, the moisture left by the receeding night and the brilliance of the celestial master conspiring to paint a picture of wondrous beauty.
The mist floats gently above the scene. It obsures some of the distant hills with it's wispy strands but in the foreground it lies too weak to blott out the environment. The ground is covered with wheat or some other type of grain. Its endless army of sturdy warriors stand proudly at just over waist height. Truly if there lies a heaven on earth, we are witnessing it now here.*
"Happiness comes to those who seek it. Happiness is a state of mind as much as it is a state of being. Any man that simply wants to be happy will automatically start himself along that path. It may not be instant but eventually he will realise one thing. Everything he does, everything he is, every single step he took... was meaningless. Because in the very pursuit of happiness he was missing out on the times... ignoring the moments, simply not recognising the seconds that he spent.. and was happy all along. Something as simple as a sound can bring a smile. As complex as this tapestry of nature that has brought about one of the most beautiful images I have ever witnessed, in the world or within the confines of my very own imagination. A place of peace... a place of beauty.. a place of joy. Made all the greater by the words of my opponent. I may have spoken harshly of him when I told my tale of woe but the fact I had to tell it made me angry. Made me wrathful.. made me quick to judge and quick to condemn. But there is more to Lance Ryan than simply the words he says and the company he keeps. The Age of the Revolution is a factor that cannot be ignored. Jack is too proud to see the nCw's most auspicious prize be taken from his grasp and delivered into the grasp of arguably his most bitter enemy. I know the belt is yours Lance but with your association and the communist belief system within the group, that makes it common property. Lance Ryan isn't world champion... Age of the Revolution is world champion."
*The field ripples gently as a breeze catches the tops of the stalks. The patterns that duck and weave, shift and repeat... they are almost hypnotic. Such beauty and grace from such a simple source as a field of wheat and a gust of wind. The very epitome of many simple constituents becoming more than the sum of the whole.
The winds start to cross each other as one wind blows forth and reaches a hill, reflecting back upon itself and forming almost a whirlwind pattern. Less of a whirlwind more like an eddie... like when a stream finds itself flowing into a blocked route and forming a small, tiny tiny whirlpool. That's what's happening but with air rather than water.*
"And like has been said, I am one of the many. I am one of the thousands if not millions that hate Age of the Revolution. I dislike using that word, so often it is used for meaningless arguments that are solved by a few deep breaths alone. No.. with every fiber of my being I hate Age of the Revolution. The concept.. the precept.. that I don't. I like the idea. Equality for all, support for the downtrodden and charity for those not strong enough to support themselves alone.. that I like and I heartily endorse. What I hate is how you've all gone about it. No Revolution ever succeeded that was waged by five men alone. For a Revolution to succeed you must abide by the rules of society or prepare to go into a full blown war with that self same society. No real change was ever made to society by any man that walked on the canvas as we do weekly. Not by his actions in the ring at any rate. Improvements to people, fine. Inspire.. invoke.. involve the people... but change their ways? That doesn't happen. And that's why I use the word hate. It's a great cause being carried forward in a meaningless fashion. But while I use the word hate for the whole... I reserve its use for the parts. I do not hate Xavier Williams for being accepted under the wing of his superiors... I do not hate Jamie Ryan for wanting his father back... I do not hate Spike for siding with his brother over his friend... I don't even hate Jack for just trying to make a difference... and last but by no means least, I do not hate Lance Ryan.. for simply doing what he does best."
*The field darkens. The warmth of the scene is lost as the sunlight is dulled by a stray cloud floating before it at just the wrong moment. The mist begins to appear heavy as it seizes its moment, its opportunity to douse the field in a curtain of damp. The scene tries to become brighter as the cloud moves on but it is too late, the damage is done and there are more clouds in the sky. They cast their shadows on the ground like a mighty air battallion flying to war.*
"But I've been unable to distinguish lately truth from act in Lance Ryan. One minute he's talking about the respect he has for me.. the next he's slamming me with comments about zero respect. I'm not a gambler... I'm not a poker player.. I'm not Davey ortega or Phil Hellmuth. I'm not an expert at reading people. I can... but I'm far from expert. I take what I can from what people say more than how they act. The small things over the big things. Things like admitting there's a possibility of defeat suddenly when all they've said until then was that they were going to win.. 100% confident. That kind of comment shows weakness in spirit.. that what I have said and what I have done has started to get into their brain, under their skin. That it's shaking them from where they were standing. Lance though.. has said nothing of these words. He has said If on the matter once but placed it on me rather than himself... This is a strength I have rarely faced and will probably never face again.. and I will relish every second of it. Every match, every conlfict, every single encounter I have I'm always looking for some way to take something away from it. I have never lost a match in my life because no fall is a loss if you learn something from it. I don't preach about much but this is one thing I do preach... learn from everything you do. I'm a man who firmly believes in practicing what you preach.. and this week, Lance... It's not going to be tough to learn something. You're right about me.. I do bring my A game to every match.. my A game is already there waiting for me in the stands... begging me to show them all yet another match of the year candidate. I've already participated in one... I'm certain this will be a second."
*The clouds dissipate and the sunlight returns to full strength. The mist almost shrieks as it lifts away from the ground and almost entirely disappears. A few stray strands of slow and steady vapour hang just below the surface of the grain. As the sun's warmth heats up these strands they can't help but rise above the surface and vanish as the collective from which they came did but moments earlier. The birds begin to chirp all the louder in celebration of the sun's triumph.*
"And.. clarity. For everyone involved. Leonard will once again see his choice of champion step forward in a battle I'm sure he would fight himself if he were physically able to and maybe a bit younger. He steps forward to represent nCw.. to take his place as the true figurehead and to prove for himself that he has arrived. That he is willing, able and ready to take his place.. take responsibility for his colleagues who lie beneath. The gladiator will return to the place of combat from whence he came. Returning to the pit of pain and violence. No sand lies upon his ground... no traps for tigers to leap from... not even so much as a sword in his hand or in the hand of his chosen opposition. The champion of the people returns to the main event spotlight. The top of the card and the biggest draw to any and all nCw arenas worldwide. The man that sells more T-shirts than any other, the man though.. who's name cannot at this time be put on any replica world title belts. Well... I'm sure there are hopeful fans with their card and scissors making some up as I speak here... we'll see how long that lasts until they can buy the real thing. The only man pretty much in the whole of nCw who openly acknowledges them as more than the ones that pay our wages. The only man who sees them all and recognises them as the heart and soul of this entire federation... the lone anitbody in a body of viruses.. all attacking them from every angle. Their one hope and their last defender. The one who will never turn on them.. who will never turn from them and the one who will always at utmost need.. turn to them."
*A figure steps from behind the camera. The camera follows close behind them, watching as they skim their hand over the grain like Russel Crowe does in 'Gladiator'. I've always liked that shot and no amount of description will ever really do it justice. Just envision that but less grey, more golden. See it? Good.*
"And in the opposite corner... the anti-hero. The prodigal son, the fallen warrior. The once chosen of the crowd now spurned by them as he did to them. The target of the company owner and the mid carder alike. Partly because of the big golden bullseye round his waist.. and partly because of the big blonde trophy at his side. There has never been a bigger mistake than banging the boss's daughter.. especially when she's a tearaway like Kelly Fox. After hearing some of her opinions on me, I'd be intrigued to hear her take on your description of me. What was it.. I'm a sex symbol and I love my body that can make women scream.. right? Well you're right. I do love it. And I know I am to many women out there.. which is why I always make sure to wear this band on my finger. If I was allowed to wear it in the ring I would.. not to use as a poor to mediocre single brass knuckle but because it would confirm in everyone's minds precisely what's confirmed in mine. I'm a good man... I'm a faithful man.. I bless every day I have with Melanie and I would never be stupid enough to do anything to jeapoardise that. Sure I play it up to the women in the crowd once in a while but Melanie knows it's all for show. She knows I wouldn't do anything more than tell a woman that I appreciate her good looks and making the world a little more attractive. She's not a jealous woman and I'll hand on heart say she is the one and only person in this world and the next that I know for certain can kick my ass. Come on now, Lance, you're smarter than that you know enough about me to know that's not me at all.
Like you said... I'm a true competitor... and a true man. Unless..."
*The camera zooms out to show the figure whose hand was running through the grain. He's dressed in a flowing red cape and very little else. A pair of leather underpants and a large helmet. In his left hand he holds a large circular shield and a spear... hang on.. we've gone from Gladiator to 300...
Suddenly another figure leaps from the grass. This one dressed head to toe in black. He has a pair of swords strapped to his back.*
"You really haven't changed. Another of my firmest beliefs is that a man can change, no matter how far gone he is... I want to believe you Lance.. but until now.. I don't know if I can. There's something about it.. something that's made it too sudden, too fast.. too sharp. Like an assassin's dagger, exposed and ready to be thrust hom in the small of the back, paralysing me before sliding it from the wound and striking him further up, ripping open my heart and punishing me for ever daring to believe or trust in you. I don't know if I can... Again it's the same battle between light and darkness. Like many would percieve this battle between you and I. Any of your compatriots would see me as the darkness and yourself as the light... but everyone else would see it the other way round... unless they believe you in which case.. man they must be confused as hell right now.... I know how they feel. If this is a mind game lance, I ahve to admit it's a damn good one. No.. It's not a mind game. If it was it would be more subtle. Hinting at your regain of respect rather than just flat out saying it. There's a common belief among people.. if it's too good to be true, it probably is. And this.. well.. I think you can see where I'm going with this."
~Beware.. combat scenes coming up and I watched 300 earlier. This could be interesting~
*Ok, for ease of storytelling, we'll call the spartan.. well.. spartan. And the man in black.. Dark.
Dark reaches to his back and pulls one of his swords to his hand. He approaches quietly but the grain gives him away, despite the latent noise because of the wind that is still rippling the entire field. As he prepares his strike, Spartan instinctively blocks with his shield to his back. He turns and swings his spear towards Dark.. but Dark reacts by swiping at the spearhead and removing it.
Spartan slides the staff as it is now into Dark's gut, winding him slightly before swinging it up and catching him under the chin, sending him backwards to the ground.*
"But what if you are telling the truth? What if you are genuinely showing me respect, making a gesture of good will by assuring me it will remain one on one... What if that's the case and I decide that I can't trust you. i know it might not seem like a big deal to you but that first show of distrust in the face of genuine good character.. of genuine change for the better... it all goes down in the big book of the subconcious and in time it might change you back. I'd hate to be responsible for that because as much as you don't think I liked you even when we were teamed together.. the fact is that I did. Maybe not to the extent of friendship but far enough to trust you to do the right thing at the right time. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and believe you..."
*Spartan tries to slam his staff into Dark while he remains on the ground but Dark rolls aside and swipes again at the staff as he gets to his feet, cutting it now into two pieces. Spartan drops the one piece of staff he has left and does what he can with his shield as Dark goes on a rampage. He slices down from overhead, not stopping when blocked. He then comes back from following through to an upward slice, also blocked. He tries a side swipe but is again blocked, Spartan takes this chance to draw his own sword. He thrusts but Dark rolls aside and takes Spartan's helmet with him as he spins to his back. He throws it away as he tries a downward strike on the back.. blocked. Dark dropkicks the shield pushing Spartan away.
Spartan stumbles before turning and revealing that he is in fact Dave Holland.*
"But I've been caught like that before. I was raised by a psycho who loved to play with the mind games. He had people.. operatives we called 'em. People who'd work into your circle of friends purely to set you up for the big fall. It happened more than once and that made me a very distrusting guy.. with good reason too. I have to be strong in my resolve.. For the last few months you've been preaching about how I'm what's wrong with society... not just as a facet but as a whole. Speaking with such venom and hatred.. nothing has changed... nothing. And that includes you Lance..."
*Dave now charges at Dark with his shield raised. Dark sidesteps and tries some swipes but Dave knocks them away with heavy shield blows. Dark never gives up though as Dave instead tries using his sword to block. Dark blocks with his own sword before striking Dave's arm in such a way that he drops his sword. He then tries a heavy down swing but once again Dave blocks before ramming the edge of his shield into Dark's gut. Dark doubles over as Dave reaches over and takes Dark's second sword from hsi back. In the process he catches Dark's mask removing it as he does so. Dave retreats as Dark stands back to full, revealing himself to be Lance.. wait.. no.. it's Dave Holland again?*
"But I have to believe... I have to hold true to my one true belief... that people deserve redemption... that people deserve the opportunity to show that they've changed. I can't dismiss it outright.. but at the same time I can't trust you completely either. I guess I'll just have to do what I always do. Play ti by ear. Improvise, adapt, overcome. My opponent in the ICT used that as his motto... damn good motto. That's almost a tenet of faith that. What I do know about you, Lance, is exactly what you told me earlier this week though. You're a family man now. You have your sons... you want to spend mroe time with them... you want them to have their father as more than just a name and a face on the television. I've got a few years before my son gets to that stage but I completely understand what you mean by it. I'll do everything that I can to get you home Lance... I'll walk into that squared circle... and I'll fight all comers... and with everything within fighting as one I will take away the one thing left holding you to nCw.. holding you to the wrestling world. And I will take you out of it for good. For yours and your family's."
*The two are about to go back at it but then the ground begisn to tremble. The sunlight is blocked out by dark, mysterious clouds that cover the landscape. Across the hills can be seen a mass marchin towards the Dave's. They look around before deciding it best to stand back to back. Moments later they are set upon by hundreds of orcs.. that's right.. lord of the rings style orcs. They form a circle about the Dave's as they continually circle, defending each other as they strike with precision against each and every orc they can.*
"And I'll do it all without your consent. Because I know you're too proud to just step back. Underneath all the layers of propaganda and lies you still take pride in being the first nCw world champion and the only nCw hall of famer. You take pride in this company having at the top the best of the best of the best. That you truly do believe that you are the best of the best... and that you will only leave when you can be sure that someone better than you stands at the top. Not someone who will cheat their way through.. not someone who will play the mind games so much that their physical performance is all but trivial... not someone who will just fob it off on any johnny come lately at the first defense. Someone who will fight with the heart and soul of the crowd and the strength and rpesence of a mighty lion, king of beasts and the ultimate symbol of royalty."
*The rippling ground is now no longer the wind amidst the wheat but the tides of orcs pushing forward to their quarry. A scream comes from amidst them though as light shines brightly on the circle of Dave and Dave fighting away. They now seem to be growing tired but help is at hand as there is a mighty roar.. and as if from the sky itself a mighty Lion jumps into the circle and fights beside them, tearing orc limb from limb. Aslan has come to help... that's right.. Aslan of Narnia.*
"And let's not even get started on the pirates!"
*There's a loud crash.. as of something large hitting something equally massive. Suddenly a whole chunk of orcs are thrown into the air as a ship rises from beneath them. It grinds to a halt beside the circle of Dave, Dave and Aslan fighting amongst the orcs. A man leaps from the prow and draws his sword. Jack Sparrow.*
Jack: Captain Jack Sparrow!
*Sorry, Captain Jack Sparrow.*
"Hang on... Pirates?
*The scene suddenly starts zooming out. We're soon miles away from the field and the orcs and our four heroes. Soon all that can be seen is nothing but a blue blur which on further zooming out reveals the iris of an eye. Further still and we see the face of Dave Holland. Further still and we can see him sat in bed with a television remote.*
Dave: Maybe a step too far with the movies? Sorry, that might happen if you go for a wander inside my head. Everything I said though is true. Don't let the fancy imagery throw you off. All that was for was for damn good television. And one more thing. A recurring theme in all those movies. 300... Gladiator.. Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia, hell even Pirates of the Carribean... In the end when all was said and done, they all came down to one man against another. Leonidas against Xerxes, Maximus versus Commodus, Aragorn versus Sauron, Aslan versus The Snow Queen, Jack Sparrow...
*A distant sound can be heard*
Jack: Dammit it's Captain!
Dave: Sorry.. Captain Jack Sparrow versus Davey Jones. And every time the winner was the one who deserved to win. The winner was the one the crowds wanted to win.. the winner was the one everyone in the audience loved. But the most important fact about each and every single one of those films and the fights, the encounters within....
*Dave leans forward*
Dave: They were all... truly... epic.
*The scene fades to black and ends... that was fun.*
But epic?.... Time will tell for certain but it's shaping up that way.
*Birdsong. It's not loud and it's not constant but the sound of them chirping can be heard every now and again. They greet the dawn in the only way that nature has discovered to be pleasant. The light of the early morning sun shines brightly over the ground. Everything in view glistens with a golden dew, the moisture left by the receeding night and the brilliance of the celestial master conspiring to paint a picture of wondrous beauty.
The mist floats gently above the scene. It obsures some of the distant hills with it's wispy strands but in the foreground it lies too weak to blott out the environment. The ground is covered with wheat or some other type of grain. Its endless army of sturdy warriors stand proudly at just over waist height. Truly if there lies a heaven on earth, we are witnessing it now here.*
"Happiness comes to those who seek it. Happiness is a state of mind as much as it is a state of being. Any man that simply wants to be happy will automatically start himself along that path. It may not be instant but eventually he will realise one thing. Everything he does, everything he is, every single step he took... was meaningless. Because in the very pursuit of happiness he was missing out on the times... ignoring the moments, simply not recognising the seconds that he spent.. and was happy all along. Something as simple as a sound can bring a smile. As complex as this tapestry of nature that has brought about one of the most beautiful images I have ever witnessed, in the world or within the confines of my very own imagination. A place of peace... a place of beauty.. a place of joy. Made all the greater by the words of my opponent. I may have spoken harshly of him when I told my tale of woe but the fact I had to tell it made me angry. Made me wrathful.. made me quick to judge and quick to condemn. But there is more to Lance Ryan than simply the words he says and the company he keeps. The Age of the Revolution is a factor that cannot be ignored. Jack is too proud to see the nCw's most auspicious prize be taken from his grasp and delivered into the grasp of arguably his most bitter enemy. I know the belt is yours Lance but with your association and the communist belief system within the group, that makes it common property. Lance Ryan isn't world champion... Age of the Revolution is world champion."
*The field ripples gently as a breeze catches the tops of the stalks. The patterns that duck and weave, shift and repeat... they are almost hypnotic. Such beauty and grace from such a simple source as a field of wheat and a gust of wind. The very epitome of many simple constituents becoming more than the sum of the whole.
The winds start to cross each other as one wind blows forth and reaches a hill, reflecting back upon itself and forming almost a whirlwind pattern. Less of a whirlwind more like an eddie... like when a stream finds itself flowing into a blocked route and forming a small, tiny tiny whirlpool. That's what's happening but with air rather than water.*
"And like has been said, I am one of the many. I am one of the thousands if not millions that hate Age of the Revolution. I dislike using that word, so often it is used for meaningless arguments that are solved by a few deep breaths alone. No.. with every fiber of my being I hate Age of the Revolution. The concept.. the precept.. that I don't. I like the idea. Equality for all, support for the downtrodden and charity for those not strong enough to support themselves alone.. that I like and I heartily endorse. What I hate is how you've all gone about it. No Revolution ever succeeded that was waged by five men alone. For a Revolution to succeed you must abide by the rules of society or prepare to go into a full blown war with that self same society. No real change was ever made to society by any man that walked on the canvas as we do weekly. Not by his actions in the ring at any rate. Improvements to people, fine. Inspire.. invoke.. involve the people... but change their ways? That doesn't happen. And that's why I use the word hate. It's a great cause being carried forward in a meaningless fashion. But while I use the word hate for the whole... I reserve its use for the parts. I do not hate Xavier Williams for being accepted under the wing of his superiors... I do not hate Jamie Ryan for wanting his father back... I do not hate Spike for siding with his brother over his friend... I don't even hate Jack for just trying to make a difference... and last but by no means least, I do not hate Lance Ryan.. for simply doing what he does best."
*The field darkens. The warmth of the scene is lost as the sunlight is dulled by a stray cloud floating before it at just the wrong moment. The mist begins to appear heavy as it seizes its moment, its opportunity to douse the field in a curtain of damp. The scene tries to become brighter as the cloud moves on but it is too late, the damage is done and there are more clouds in the sky. They cast their shadows on the ground like a mighty air battallion flying to war.*
"But I've been unable to distinguish lately truth from act in Lance Ryan. One minute he's talking about the respect he has for me.. the next he's slamming me with comments about zero respect. I'm not a gambler... I'm not a poker player.. I'm not Davey ortega or Phil Hellmuth. I'm not an expert at reading people. I can... but I'm far from expert. I take what I can from what people say more than how they act. The small things over the big things. Things like admitting there's a possibility of defeat suddenly when all they've said until then was that they were going to win.. 100% confident. That kind of comment shows weakness in spirit.. that what I have said and what I have done has started to get into their brain, under their skin. That it's shaking them from where they were standing. Lance though.. has said nothing of these words. He has said If on the matter once but placed it on me rather than himself... This is a strength I have rarely faced and will probably never face again.. and I will relish every second of it. Every match, every conlfict, every single encounter I have I'm always looking for some way to take something away from it. I have never lost a match in my life because no fall is a loss if you learn something from it. I don't preach about much but this is one thing I do preach... learn from everything you do. I'm a man who firmly believes in practicing what you preach.. and this week, Lance... It's not going to be tough to learn something. You're right about me.. I do bring my A game to every match.. my A game is already there waiting for me in the stands... begging me to show them all yet another match of the year candidate. I've already participated in one... I'm certain this will be a second."
*The clouds dissipate and the sunlight returns to full strength. The mist almost shrieks as it lifts away from the ground and almost entirely disappears. A few stray strands of slow and steady vapour hang just below the surface of the grain. As the sun's warmth heats up these strands they can't help but rise above the surface and vanish as the collective from which they came did but moments earlier. The birds begin to chirp all the louder in celebration of the sun's triumph.*
"And.. clarity. For everyone involved. Leonard will once again see his choice of champion step forward in a battle I'm sure he would fight himself if he were physically able to and maybe a bit younger. He steps forward to represent nCw.. to take his place as the true figurehead and to prove for himself that he has arrived. That he is willing, able and ready to take his place.. take responsibility for his colleagues who lie beneath. The gladiator will return to the place of combat from whence he came. Returning to the pit of pain and violence. No sand lies upon his ground... no traps for tigers to leap from... not even so much as a sword in his hand or in the hand of his chosen opposition. The champion of the people returns to the main event spotlight. The top of the card and the biggest draw to any and all nCw arenas worldwide. The man that sells more T-shirts than any other, the man though.. who's name cannot at this time be put on any replica world title belts. Well... I'm sure there are hopeful fans with their card and scissors making some up as I speak here... we'll see how long that lasts until they can buy the real thing. The only man pretty much in the whole of nCw who openly acknowledges them as more than the ones that pay our wages. The only man who sees them all and recognises them as the heart and soul of this entire federation... the lone anitbody in a body of viruses.. all attacking them from every angle. Their one hope and their last defender. The one who will never turn on them.. who will never turn from them and the one who will always at utmost need.. turn to them."
*A figure steps from behind the camera. The camera follows close behind them, watching as they skim their hand over the grain like Russel Crowe does in 'Gladiator'. I've always liked that shot and no amount of description will ever really do it justice. Just envision that but less grey, more golden. See it? Good.*
"And in the opposite corner... the anti-hero. The prodigal son, the fallen warrior. The once chosen of the crowd now spurned by them as he did to them. The target of the company owner and the mid carder alike. Partly because of the big golden bullseye round his waist.. and partly because of the big blonde trophy at his side. There has never been a bigger mistake than banging the boss's daughter.. especially when she's a tearaway like Kelly Fox. After hearing some of her opinions on me, I'd be intrigued to hear her take on your description of me. What was it.. I'm a sex symbol and I love my body that can make women scream.. right? Well you're right. I do love it. And I know I am to many women out there.. which is why I always make sure to wear this band on my finger. If I was allowed to wear it in the ring I would.. not to use as a poor to mediocre single brass knuckle but because it would confirm in everyone's minds precisely what's confirmed in mine. I'm a good man... I'm a faithful man.. I bless every day I have with Melanie and I would never be stupid enough to do anything to jeapoardise that. Sure I play it up to the women in the crowd once in a while but Melanie knows it's all for show. She knows I wouldn't do anything more than tell a woman that I appreciate her good looks and making the world a little more attractive. She's not a jealous woman and I'll hand on heart say she is the one and only person in this world and the next that I know for certain can kick my ass. Come on now, Lance, you're smarter than that you know enough about me to know that's not me at all.
Like you said... I'm a true competitor... and a true man. Unless..."
*The camera zooms out to show the figure whose hand was running through the grain. He's dressed in a flowing red cape and very little else. A pair of leather underpants and a large helmet. In his left hand he holds a large circular shield and a spear... hang on.. we've gone from Gladiator to 300...
Suddenly another figure leaps from the grass. This one dressed head to toe in black. He has a pair of swords strapped to his back.*
"You really haven't changed. Another of my firmest beliefs is that a man can change, no matter how far gone he is... I want to believe you Lance.. but until now.. I don't know if I can. There's something about it.. something that's made it too sudden, too fast.. too sharp. Like an assassin's dagger, exposed and ready to be thrust hom in the small of the back, paralysing me before sliding it from the wound and striking him further up, ripping open my heart and punishing me for ever daring to believe or trust in you. I don't know if I can... Again it's the same battle between light and darkness. Like many would percieve this battle between you and I. Any of your compatriots would see me as the darkness and yourself as the light... but everyone else would see it the other way round... unless they believe you in which case.. man they must be confused as hell right now.... I know how they feel. If this is a mind game lance, I ahve to admit it's a damn good one. No.. It's not a mind game. If it was it would be more subtle. Hinting at your regain of respect rather than just flat out saying it. There's a common belief among people.. if it's too good to be true, it probably is. And this.. well.. I think you can see where I'm going with this."
~Beware.. combat scenes coming up and I watched 300 earlier. This could be interesting~
*Ok, for ease of storytelling, we'll call the spartan.. well.. spartan. And the man in black.. Dark.
Dark reaches to his back and pulls one of his swords to his hand. He approaches quietly but the grain gives him away, despite the latent noise because of the wind that is still rippling the entire field. As he prepares his strike, Spartan instinctively blocks with his shield to his back. He turns and swings his spear towards Dark.. but Dark reacts by swiping at the spearhead and removing it.
Spartan slides the staff as it is now into Dark's gut, winding him slightly before swinging it up and catching him under the chin, sending him backwards to the ground.*
"But what if you are telling the truth? What if you are genuinely showing me respect, making a gesture of good will by assuring me it will remain one on one... What if that's the case and I decide that I can't trust you. i know it might not seem like a big deal to you but that first show of distrust in the face of genuine good character.. of genuine change for the better... it all goes down in the big book of the subconcious and in time it might change you back. I'd hate to be responsible for that because as much as you don't think I liked you even when we were teamed together.. the fact is that I did. Maybe not to the extent of friendship but far enough to trust you to do the right thing at the right time. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and believe you..."
*Spartan tries to slam his staff into Dark while he remains on the ground but Dark rolls aside and swipes again at the staff as he gets to his feet, cutting it now into two pieces. Spartan drops the one piece of staff he has left and does what he can with his shield as Dark goes on a rampage. He slices down from overhead, not stopping when blocked. He then comes back from following through to an upward slice, also blocked. He tries a side swipe but is again blocked, Spartan takes this chance to draw his own sword. He thrusts but Dark rolls aside and takes Spartan's helmet with him as he spins to his back. He throws it away as he tries a downward strike on the back.. blocked. Dark dropkicks the shield pushing Spartan away.
Spartan stumbles before turning and revealing that he is in fact Dave Holland.*
"But I've been caught like that before. I was raised by a psycho who loved to play with the mind games. He had people.. operatives we called 'em. People who'd work into your circle of friends purely to set you up for the big fall. It happened more than once and that made me a very distrusting guy.. with good reason too. I have to be strong in my resolve.. For the last few months you've been preaching about how I'm what's wrong with society... not just as a facet but as a whole. Speaking with such venom and hatred.. nothing has changed... nothing. And that includes you Lance..."
*Dave now charges at Dark with his shield raised. Dark sidesteps and tries some swipes but Dave knocks them away with heavy shield blows. Dark never gives up though as Dave instead tries using his sword to block. Dark blocks with his own sword before striking Dave's arm in such a way that he drops his sword. He then tries a heavy down swing but once again Dave blocks before ramming the edge of his shield into Dark's gut. Dark doubles over as Dave reaches over and takes Dark's second sword from hsi back. In the process he catches Dark's mask removing it as he does so. Dave retreats as Dark stands back to full, revealing himself to be Lance.. wait.. no.. it's Dave Holland again?*
"But I have to believe... I have to hold true to my one true belief... that people deserve redemption... that people deserve the opportunity to show that they've changed. I can't dismiss it outright.. but at the same time I can't trust you completely either. I guess I'll just have to do what I always do. Play ti by ear. Improvise, adapt, overcome. My opponent in the ICT used that as his motto... damn good motto. That's almost a tenet of faith that. What I do know about you, Lance, is exactly what you told me earlier this week though. You're a family man now. You have your sons... you want to spend mroe time with them... you want them to have their father as more than just a name and a face on the television. I've got a few years before my son gets to that stage but I completely understand what you mean by it. I'll do everything that I can to get you home Lance... I'll walk into that squared circle... and I'll fight all comers... and with everything within fighting as one I will take away the one thing left holding you to nCw.. holding you to the wrestling world. And I will take you out of it for good. For yours and your family's."
*The two are about to go back at it but then the ground begisn to tremble. The sunlight is blocked out by dark, mysterious clouds that cover the landscape. Across the hills can be seen a mass marchin towards the Dave's. They look around before deciding it best to stand back to back. Moments later they are set upon by hundreds of orcs.. that's right.. lord of the rings style orcs. They form a circle about the Dave's as they continually circle, defending each other as they strike with precision against each and every orc they can.*
"And I'll do it all without your consent. Because I know you're too proud to just step back. Underneath all the layers of propaganda and lies you still take pride in being the first nCw world champion and the only nCw hall of famer. You take pride in this company having at the top the best of the best of the best. That you truly do believe that you are the best of the best... and that you will only leave when you can be sure that someone better than you stands at the top. Not someone who will cheat their way through.. not someone who will play the mind games so much that their physical performance is all but trivial... not someone who will just fob it off on any johnny come lately at the first defense. Someone who will fight with the heart and soul of the crowd and the strength and rpesence of a mighty lion, king of beasts and the ultimate symbol of royalty."
*The rippling ground is now no longer the wind amidst the wheat but the tides of orcs pushing forward to their quarry. A scream comes from amidst them though as light shines brightly on the circle of Dave and Dave fighting away. They now seem to be growing tired but help is at hand as there is a mighty roar.. and as if from the sky itself a mighty Lion jumps into the circle and fights beside them, tearing orc limb from limb. Aslan has come to help... that's right.. Aslan of Narnia.*
"And let's not even get started on the pirates!"
*There's a loud crash.. as of something large hitting something equally massive. Suddenly a whole chunk of orcs are thrown into the air as a ship rises from beneath them. It grinds to a halt beside the circle of Dave, Dave and Aslan fighting amongst the orcs. A man leaps from the prow and draws his sword. Jack Sparrow.*
Jack: Captain Jack Sparrow!
*Sorry, Captain Jack Sparrow.*
"Hang on... Pirates?
*The scene suddenly starts zooming out. We're soon miles away from the field and the orcs and our four heroes. Soon all that can be seen is nothing but a blue blur which on further zooming out reveals the iris of an eye. Further still and we see the face of Dave Holland. Further still and we can see him sat in bed with a television remote.*
Dave: Maybe a step too far with the movies? Sorry, that might happen if you go for a wander inside my head. Everything I said though is true. Don't let the fancy imagery throw you off. All that was for was for damn good television. And one more thing. A recurring theme in all those movies. 300... Gladiator.. Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia, hell even Pirates of the Carribean... In the end when all was said and done, they all came down to one man against another. Leonidas against Xerxes, Maximus versus Commodus, Aragorn versus Sauron, Aslan versus The Snow Queen, Jack Sparrow...
*A distant sound can be heard*
Jack: Dammit it's Captain!
Dave: Sorry.. Captain Jack Sparrow versus Davey Jones. And every time the winner was the one who deserved to win. The winner was the one the crowds wanted to win.. the winner was the one everyone in the audience loved. But the most important fact about each and every single one of those films and the fights, the encounters within....
*Dave leans forward*
Dave: They were all... truly... epic.
*The scene fades to black and ends... that was fun.*