Post by Falcon on Jan 22, 2008 9:39:54 GMT -6
Boston, MA
Dungeon Legends Cards & Games
(The last of the wrestling fans filter out of the store. The sign in the window says "PWW's Sprade Rhaynes Autograph signing 2-4 p.m. Today!". At the bottom of the promo poster someone hand written in sharpie "Due to malady, the part of Sprade Rhaynes will be played by Falcon, also of PWW". To which PWW was crossed out and nCw replaced it. Inside the quaint little shop, the owner stood behind the counter, looking very much like a skinny version of the comic shop owner from the Simpsons cartoon. Across the glass counter chock full of collectibles such as pewter figurines and star wars
Falcon: So... he no showed again Peter..?
Peter, shop owner extrordinaire: Yeah, pulled out again by some B.S. reason about his pet goldfish dying. Same story, different pet.
Falcon: Honestly, the way he used to talk you'd think he'd love any opportunity to mention his name to anyone who might actually give half a damn.
Peter: I think he might be embarassed that he.. you know.. doesn't have a job anymore. Thanks for filling in by the way, nice surprise for the hometown crew.
Falcon: Anytime buddy.
Peter: So, how you feel?
Falcon: I'm great. All rehabbed and ready, my flexibility is back, there's no pain.. I'm ready to go.
Peter: So, where are you working now?
Falcon: New Championship Wrestling.
Peter: Ahh.. I hear some of the kids who come in here talking about that. Names like Davey Ortega, Spike Kane and such. When did you start that?
Falcon: Signed last week, got a match at the pre-PPV show. Don't know if it will be broadcast or not, but eh.. it's work I suppose.
Peter: That's nice. And you're facing..?
Falcon: Taft... and Angel...
Peter: The very same?
Falcon: Yep..
Peter: Guess not much has changed has it?
Falcon: Nothing ever really does. You just start seeing things the way they really are.
Peter: Ain't that a fact. Well, thanks again for coming. If you're going to light that up, I have to ask you to do it outside.
(Falcon looks down and realizes he's subconciously holding a cigarette. He thinks about it for a minute, then tosses it into a garbage can.)
Peter: Finally gave it up?
Falcon: I guess so. Haven't had one since they told me I couldn't in rehabilitation. I suppose I should be thankful, but I can't seem to find gratitude for it. Plus it helps to have them so people stop whining about not having smokes. Anyway, I have to get going. I'll stop in again, Peter.
Peter: Alright, you take care of yourself you hear. I don't want to hear from these kids you finally broke yourself trying to impress some pretty girls in the front row.
Falcon: Thanks for your concern, but when I go out.. it will be on my terms. That's it.
(Falcon exits the building, stopping for a minute to check out his hand edited promo poster. With a slight smirk, he tears it down from the window, rolls it up and begins walking away. He starts speaking to the camera as if he'd known it was there all along, and already knew what it wanted from him.)
Falcon: You know, it's rather humorous. I've known both Angel and Taft for a long time now. And about the last time I was a contracted wrestler, I was staring down those same two faces. I had originally thought that when I signed my name on that dotted line. I would see a whole crowd of new faces, but as exciting as that prospect is, I find a sense of relief in that there will be no waiting, no guessing. Right off the bat, bam.. it's me and Angel, face to face. Finishing the business we started all that time ago. Taft.. is a mere consolation prize. A shadow of his former self if you will. I should just bring a PSP to the ring and let him sit in the corner until Angel and I have finished our business, and then.. if there is still work to be done, so be it. It's so sad to watch Taft wallow in his own little work of Xbox and a closet, but honestly I don't think there is anything that can be done.
(He pauses for a minute to stop and toss the poster into a dumpster. Looking into it for a long moment as if he were staring at the past.)
Falcon: I remember you know. The man Taft used to be. The strong, confident man who was less concerned with playing Halo and more with putting people in them. What happened Taft? Sure, you can blame the injuries, the breakdowns, any other excuse you feel like pulling out. But I know that man is still within you. What I'm asking of you now.. is to put the controller down and reach into your depths and find out where the hell that man ran off to. I didn't come here to run into any weak links in the chain. And I damn sure don't want my first match to have quite possibly my greatest rival and then I have to look into another corner and see... your shell. If I have to run into that ring and beat your former self out of your shadow then by god I'll do it. I leave the choice to you Taft. Victory or brain damage. Because I don't honestly think that it could get any worse for you inside your head, no matter how much damage your frontal lobe takes. You think I wanted this? Hell to the *** damned no. When I started I made a list, a list of those people who I thought would be a real trip to stand in that ring with. You are on that list Taft, not your shadow, not your shell, you. So either come out of that shell and fight me like you mean it. Or I swear I'll reach down your throat and pull it out of you myself. No games, No Xbox, no gimmicks. It's you and me Taft, and I put a solemn oath on it that you will not be allowed to walk away from this one. Count on it.
(Falcon resumes walking, looking more focused and perhaps more annoyed.)
Falcon: Which brings me to Angel. The patron saint of bad ass if you will. Now I know all of you watching, whether wrestler or fan are wondering just where in the hell does he get off thinking he can start calling himself names like that. Well, I'll tell you. Anyone who gets in the ring with Angel and doesn't respect him afterwards, Is either sore because he beat them, or is too full of themselves to take anything they do seriously enough to understand what it means to face him. He threw me off a fifteen foot balcony onto a popcorn cart. Looking down at me lying on a pile of broken wood and glass, he made the unenviable decision to jump off after me. I want all of you to ask yourselves if you would have done the same. And if you're answer is "yeah, sure" you're either a liar or a lunatic like me. And I'll tell you that it's going to take the latter of which to beat me, as Angel was this close to doing. Now that I have talked him up enough, it's time to let him know that I know exactly what he's up to. And I welcome it. Angel, I know you're going to use your grubby little hands to try to beat me. You don't have to hide it from anyone. You're pride is hurt and now you want vengeance, well, all you had to do was say the word. Bring. It. On. and I don't mean those crappy movies. The thought of Angel in a cheerleader outfit just makes me gag on the inside. His valet on the other hand... err Sorry, lost train of thought. Anyway, I look forward to hearing from you. Don't keep me in suspense. I wouldn't want to have to start calling you Ethanangel or anything like that if you know what I mean. We stand on the cusp of once again having everything we worked for you and I. Don't drop the ball like Grossman, and yes.. I know about the seventeen Bears jerseys in your closet. Lil creepy if you ask me.
(He stops at a seven story brick building in the middle of downtown. Just a few blocks down the street from the Fleetcenter to be precise. He swipes a magnetic card through the reader and the door buzzes. He opens it and stops to offer one last parting shot at the camera.)
Falcon: There is only so many ways I can say how good it is to be working again. So, this is for everyone who is listening that is not a fan, Taft or Angel. Appreciate every match you have and respect everyone you face. Because you never know when it will be taken from you. Last year I found out I wasn't Invincible as I thought I was. But, like the song says, You can't kill me.. I'm immortal...
(Fade to Black)
Dungeon Legends Cards & Games
(The last of the wrestling fans filter out of the store. The sign in the window says "PWW's Sprade Rhaynes Autograph signing 2-4 p.m. Today!". At the bottom of the promo poster someone hand written in sharpie "Due to malady, the part of Sprade Rhaynes will be played by Falcon, also of PWW". To which PWW was crossed out and nCw replaced it. Inside the quaint little shop, the owner stood behind the counter, looking very much like a skinny version of the comic shop owner from the Simpsons cartoon. Across the glass counter chock full of collectibles such as pewter figurines and star wars
Falcon: So... he no showed again Peter..?
Peter, shop owner extrordinaire: Yeah, pulled out again by some B.S. reason about his pet goldfish dying. Same story, different pet.
Falcon: Honestly, the way he used to talk you'd think he'd love any opportunity to mention his name to anyone who might actually give half a damn.
Peter: I think he might be embarassed that he.. you know.. doesn't have a job anymore. Thanks for filling in by the way, nice surprise for the hometown crew.
Falcon: Anytime buddy.
Peter: So, how you feel?
Falcon: I'm great. All rehabbed and ready, my flexibility is back, there's no pain.. I'm ready to go.
Peter: So, where are you working now?
Falcon: New Championship Wrestling.
Peter: Ahh.. I hear some of the kids who come in here talking about that. Names like Davey Ortega, Spike Kane and such. When did you start that?
Falcon: Signed last week, got a match at the pre-PPV show. Don't know if it will be broadcast or not, but eh.. it's work I suppose.
Peter: That's nice. And you're facing..?
Falcon: Taft... and Angel...
Peter: The very same?
Falcon: Yep..
Peter: Guess not much has changed has it?
Falcon: Nothing ever really does. You just start seeing things the way they really are.
Peter: Ain't that a fact. Well, thanks again for coming. If you're going to light that up, I have to ask you to do it outside.
(Falcon looks down and realizes he's subconciously holding a cigarette. He thinks about it for a minute, then tosses it into a garbage can.)
Peter: Finally gave it up?
Falcon: I guess so. Haven't had one since they told me I couldn't in rehabilitation. I suppose I should be thankful, but I can't seem to find gratitude for it. Plus it helps to have them so people stop whining about not having smokes. Anyway, I have to get going. I'll stop in again, Peter.
Peter: Alright, you take care of yourself you hear. I don't want to hear from these kids you finally broke yourself trying to impress some pretty girls in the front row.
Falcon: Thanks for your concern, but when I go out.. it will be on my terms. That's it.
(Falcon exits the building, stopping for a minute to check out his hand edited promo poster. With a slight smirk, he tears it down from the window, rolls it up and begins walking away. He starts speaking to the camera as if he'd known it was there all along, and already knew what it wanted from him.)
Falcon: You know, it's rather humorous. I've known both Angel and Taft for a long time now. And about the last time I was a contracted wrestler, I was staring down those same two faces. I had originally thought that when I signed my name on that dotted line. I would see a whole crowd of new faces, but as exciting as that prospect is, I find a sense of relief in that there will be no waiting, no guessing. Right off the bat, bam.. it's me and Angel, face to face. Finishing the business we started all that time ago. Taft.. is a mere consolation prize. A shadow of his former self if you will. I should just bring a PSP to the ring and let him sit in the corner until Angel and I have finished our business, and then.. if there is still work to be done, so be it. It's so sad to watch Taft wallow in his own little work of Xbox and a closet, but honestly I don't think there is anything that can be done.
(He pauses for a minute to stop and toss the poster into a dumpster. Looking into it for a long moment as if he were staring at the past.)
Falcon: I remember you know. The man Taft used to be. The strong, confident man who was less concerned with playing Halo and more with putting people in them. What happened Taft? Sure, you can blame the injuries, the breakdowns, any other excuse you feel like pulling out. But I know that man is still within you. What I'm asking of you now.. is to put the controller down and reach into your depths and find out where the hell that man ran off to. I didn't come here to run into any weak links in the chain. And I damn sure don't want my first match to have quite possibly my greatest rival and then I have to look into another corner and see... your shell. If I have to run into that ring and beat your former self out of your shadow then by god I'll do it. I leave the choice to you Taft. Victory or brain damage. Because I don't honestly think that it could get any worse for you inside your head, no matter how much damage your frontal lobe takes. You think I wanted this? Hell to the *** damned no. When I started I made a list, a list of those people who I thought would be a real trip to stand in that ring with. You are on that list Taft, not your shadow, not your shell, you. So either come out of that shell and fight me like you mean it. Or I swear I'll reach down your throat and pull it out of you myself. No games, No Xbox, no gimmicks. It's you and me Taft, and I put a solemn oath on it that you will not be allowed to walk away from this one. Count on it.
(Falcon resumes walking, looking more focused and perhaps more annoyed.)
Falcon: Which brings me to Angel. The patron saint of bad ass if you will. Now I know all of you watching, whether wrestler or fan are wondering just where in the hell does he get off thinking he can start calling himself names like that. Well, I'll tell you. Anyone who gets in the ring with Angel and doesn't respect him afterwards, Is either sore because he beat them, or is too full of themselves to take anything they do seriously enough to understand what it means to face him. He threw me off a fifteen foot balcony onto a popcorn cart. Looking down at me lying on a pile of broken wood and glass, he made the unenviable decision to jump off after me. I want all of you to ask yourselves if you would have done the same. And if you're answer is "yeah, sure" you're either a liar or a lunatic like me. And I'll tell you that it's going to take the latter of which to beat me, as Angel was this close to doing. Now that I have talked him up enough, it's time to let him know that I know exactly what he's up to. And I welcome it. Angel, I know you're going to use your grubby little hands to try to beat me. You don't have to hide it from anyone. You're pride is hurt and now you want vengeance, well, all you had to do was say the word. Bring. It. On. and I don't mean those crappy movies. The thought of Angel in a cheerleader outfit just makes me gag on the inside. His valet on the other hand... err Sorry, lost train of thought. Anyway, I look forward to hearing from you. Don't keep me in suspense. I wouldn't want to have to start calling you Ethanangel or anything like that if you know what I mean. We stand on the cusp of once again having everything we worked for you and I. Don't drop the ball like Grossman, and yes.. I know about the seventeen Bears jerseys in your closet. Lil creepy if you ask me.
(He stops at a seven story brick building in the middle of downtown. Just a few blocks down the street from the Fleetcenter to be precise. He swipes a magnetic card through the reader and the door buzzes. He opens it and stops to offer one last parting shot at the camera.)
Falcon: There is only so many ways I can say how good it is to be working again. So, this is for everyone who is listening that is not a fan, Taft or Angel. Appreciate every match you have and respect everyone you face. Because you never know when it will be taken from you. Last year I found out I wasn't Invincible as I thought I was. But, like the song says, You can't kill me.. I'm immortal...
(Fade to Black)
