Post by Jimmy Zane on Mar 21, 2009 11:40:11 GMT -6
~{/SETTING\}~
The scene fades into a dark and gloomy room. Candles are placed throughout the room and there are ceramic skulls around the room as well. The camera pans the room and finally sees Jimmy Zane, sitting in a large chair, legs over one arm, head leaned back on the other. The camera zooms in to see his face. Paint smeared across his face as his eyes, opened wide, stare at the ceiling blankly. He doesn't move, he doesn't stir. He just lays there, lifeless and drone, as the candles burn into the darkness. The silence so deafening that it's enough to drive a man crazy. Suddenly, Jimmy sits straight up in the chair. His eyes wide, and the look on his face is downright disturbing. The paint, streaked and multicolored, accentuates the white of his eyes. As the camera zooms in on his face, he breaks the silence.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
So everything I have said and done to bring you onto the side of rightousness is for nothing. Everything I have done to save your soul from the depths of hell has gone ignored. Every drop of blood spilt, and every stitch I received, was just a fun and pleasant experience for you. In a sick and twisted mind, those things may be acceptable. In your darkened and sick world, the pain you have inflicted on me was just a fun game you like to play with everyone. You somehow justify your actions by denouncing everything you ever were and accepting it like what and who you were was so wrong, and so bad. You gave joy to millions for so long, and yet you shun that very existence and everything that came with it. You said it yourself. It is YOUR failed life. A few weeks ago, you talked about how it was my fault. About how I never held me hand out in friendship to you. The sad reality, Harold, is that you are a hypocrit who just can't handle the fact that you ****ed your life up, and not me.
~{/SETTING\}~
His eyes roll into the back of his head as he leans his had back again. He breathes in deep and then lets it out slowly and deliberately. Without moving, he continues.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
You speak of my father frequently, and the sad part about that is, it just lets everyone know that you wanted to be like him. You wanted to stand tall above everyone, as he did. It just never happened for you the way it did for him. Like you said, he could seperate the wrestler from the man. You can't. Never could, as I recall. You were always the one who wanted to "live the life" and "be Harold for real". You never drew a line in the sand and told yourself that this is where part of you ends, and the rest of you begin. Once again, that was you, not me.
Have you ever wondered why your son turned out the way he did? The pressure to follow in your footsteps was astounding. That, combined with your derogatory statements and compulsive beatings killed his confidence and will to succeed in the cursed business. His failure lies on you, Harold. His failures echo your own poor choices. You make me sick, Harold. Not just nausiated sick. I am talking barf in your own mouth sick. Sick like you are so accustomed to after a long night hopping from bar to bar, drinking their wells dry with your insatiable desire for alchohol. Those two week benders finally paid off for you, didn't they? Living the life. Being the man! It's awesome, isn't it. Sitting around dumpsters, smelling my ****, and eating the trash that I throw away! CONGRATULATIONS! You are officially the lowest form of life on this planet. You are nothing more than a bottom feeder.
~{/SETTING\}~
Jimmy reaches his arm down to the floor and grabs a skull. He pulls it up above his head, without moving anything else, and begins to look into the eyes. He snickers for a moment before continuing.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
You see this, Harold. This fake skull has more life in it than you. Again, you said it yourself, you are a robot. Nothing more than a pre-programed animal that was trained to attack and only attack. You know nothing of the love and admiration that so many people had for you through the years. From this point on, I must tell you, that you are dead to me. Your soul doesn't exist. Your past, is just history in a book. And your future, well, that is all too different. It will be marred with defeat. Encrusted with the blood from your body, and glazed with the failure that is bound to fall upon you.
This Sunday, in the greatest city in the world. In the most famous arena in the world. Your reign of terror will come to an end. Your time of running roughshod through the nCw with nothing but a singular goal of just inflicting as much pain as you can on whoever stood in the ring opposite you is over. Sadly, you only inflict pain on them because you don't have the balls to do it to yourself. You don't have the guts to inflict the pain and hatred on yourself for all the mistakes you made to put yourself in this situation. I got no respect for someone who can't take responsibility for themselves, or their mistakes. You have stated that you no longer want or care to be the man you used to be. That's fine. It is more comfortable for me to not care anyway. It just bares witness to my transformation. It just enhances the fact that I am my father's son, and this Sunday, you will finally know that for a fact.
~{/SETTING\}~
Jimmy sits the skull down on his chest and then crosses his arms on his stomach. He then gets a look of severe anger on his face and turns his head to the side so the camera can see his face.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
I heard you invited my mom to the show. I even heard that you paid for the ticket. I would hate to know what you had to do to obtain a ticket for the show, let alone a front row ticket. I talked to mom, and she is coming. I hope she does. I really do. Because it has been her goal for me to pull you from the depths of darkness. It has been her dream for me to help you seperate from Adam Knite and see the light again. But now, my mother has turned on you too. She doesn't care anymore. You have attacked her son, and that, she will not, and cannot accept.
All roads do come to an end, Harold. And yours, like many before you, will not end well. It will not end with a victory for you. It will not end with your hand raised in the air, and it will not end with another win over me. I refuse to sit back and let someone like you beat me again. I refuse to stand idley by and let you continue your trip around nCw as a maniacal and devious being. I swear with all that I am, Harold, your end is near. Your end is coming, and it's coming this Sunday night, right here in New York City!
~{/SETTING\}~
Jimmy suddenly springs up and leans forward into the camera. It focuses in tight on his face, and his eyes widen, and his body begins to shake.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
You want to know if I got what it takes to beat you, Harold? You want to know if I have the courage and stamina to hang with you? You want to know if I can go places that I don't want to go, just to beat you? You have no idea what I am capable of, but you will. I am willing to go farther, and deeper, than I have ever gone before to destroy you. Your attempt to throw me off by inviting my mother is nothing but a ploy to distract me. You fear me, Harold. In the pit of your gut. In the depths of your soul. Through the darkness of night! Through the light of day. The last thing you want is for me to prove to you that I am my father's son! You couldn't beat him, Harold. You know it, and I know it. You took him to the limit time and time again, but you just couldn't get over the hump. So what have you done? You took it out on his son. Wow, how awesome are you. Really.
So, you beat on my father's son. You attempted to mangle and destroy me. You attempted to end my life and my career, and yet, I am still standing. The very thought of everything that I am, and everything that I am going to be scares the living **** out of you. You speak of my resilience. You speak of how I bounce back stronger and faster after every beating, and you act like you are surprised. You know the blood that flows through my veins, and you know the desire in my heart, Harold. None of which you can change. None of which, you can vanquish.
I want you to know here and now that I am willing to go to the ends of the earth and back again to make sure that when I put you down, you stay down. The desire to mame you runs through my blood like a river of hatred. A constant flow of pain and suffering befit of someone like you. I don't want to just beat you, Harold. I want to hurt you. I want you to actually suffer. You claim that nothing phases you, and nothing is able to penetrate your soul to that depth. You will, my friend. You will suffer at my hands like no man has ever suffered before.
~{/SETTING\}~
Jimmy reaches for a goblet sitting on the table next to him. He whisks it around and then drinks it down. A few moments go by as he begins to shake in the chair. The shaking stops as his head jerks back against the high backing of the chair. He is motionless and silent for a moment. As he comes to, he begins rambling what seems to be incoherent babble. The madman inside springs forward as the VooDoo Child is reborn.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
The darkness reveals the answers to the dark fold. Can we make sure that the darkness allows precious times to communicate to the darkened souls of those who betray us? For the dark of night allows the rituals to come through. We allow the spirits to come through the night with the blessings of the darkness. Let their powers reign through our eternal souls. Let us see the darkness of the damned and let us awake for the power of the night and show the unknown that we are ready to behold the power. Let us show them that the darkness is not evil, but is merely a figmant of our imagination and beliefs in the dark side of life. Let our mortal souls rise above those around us and lead us through the fear and doubt. The darkness is the way, and those who are surround by death and spirits will let it be known to those who refuse to see that anything is possible through love, trust and faith in their abilities.
The blackened nights still shine through the ress and I can still hear the dead calling out my name in honor. Honoring the great one that has died long ago. They still slip through the night, looking for lost souls. You, Harold, are that lost soul. They are coming to call you home, as the seven deadly sins have walked upon your soul. You are lost in this world of hate, and soon, I will lose the good side of me and go. I will let your blood run all over me as I sit and wait for who you know by his name. For he is the keeper and the darkness in the night. He is the light of the moon, and his name I call out.
Darkness has set in on Sunday. The impending doom is upon you, Harold, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. You set the wheels in motion with no way of stopping the growth of new birth within me. It is almost like the day of Armageddon foryou. Let your soul go because the darkness is coming for you, and I am the keeper of the darkness. The time has come, Harold, and this Sunday, when the darkness rolls in, and that chill rolls up your spine, please remember one thing. You brought this upon yourself. There is nobody to blame, and no way to avoide it.
I am what my concience is. I am what I know is good. I am what I believe in. And you, will REAP THE WHIRLWIND!
~{/SETTING\}~
Zane starts laughing a hysterical laugh. His laughter echoing through the room as the scene fades to black.
The scene fades into a dark and gloomy room. Candles are placed throughout the room and there are ceramic skulls around the room as well. The camera pans the room and finally sees Jimmy Zane, sitting in a large chair, legs over one arm, head leaned back on the other. The camera zooms in to see his face. Paint smeared across his face as his eyes, opened wide, stare at the ceiling blankly. He doesn't move, he doesn't stir. He just lays there, lifeless and drone, as the candles burn into the darkness. The silence so deafening that it's enough to drive a man crazy. Suddenly, Jimmy sits straight up in the chair. His eyes wide, and the look on his face is downright disturbing. The paint, streaked and multicolored, accentuates the white of his eyes. As the camera zooms in on his face, he breaks the silence.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
So everything I have said and done to bring you onto the side of rightousness is for nothing. Everything I have done to save your soul from the depths of hell has gone ignored. Every drop of blood spilt, and every stitch I received, was just a fun and pleasant experience for you. In a sick and twisted mind, those things may be acceptable. In your darkened and sick world, the pain you have inflicted on me was just a fun game you like to play with everyone. You somehow justify your actions by denouncing everything you ever were and accepting it like what and who you were was so wrong, and so bad. You gave joy to millions for so long, and yet you shun that very existence and everything that came with it. You said it yourself. It is YOUR failed life. A few weeks ago, you talked about how it was my fault. About how I never held me hand out in friendship to you. The sad reality, Harold, is that you are a hypocrit who just can't handle the fact that you ****ed your life up, and not me.
~{/SETTING\}~
His eyes roll into the back of his head as he leans his had back again. He breathes in deep and then lets it out slowly and deliberately. Without moving, he continues.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
You speak of my father frequently, and the sad part about that is, it just lets everyone know that you wanted to be like him. You wanted to stand tall above everyone, as he did. It just never happened for you the way it did for him. Like you said, he could seperate the wrestler from the man. You can't. Never could, as I recall. You were always the one who wanted to "live the life" and "be Harold for real". You never drew a line in the sand and told yourself that this is where part of you ends, and the rest of you begin. Once again, that was you, not me.
Have you ever wondered why your son turned out the way he did? The pressure to follow in your footsteps was astounding. That, combined with your derogatory statements and compulsive beatings killed his confidence and will to succeed in the cursed business. His failure lies on you, Harold. His failures echo your own poor choices. You make me sick, Harold. Not just nausiated sick. I am talking barf in your own mouth sick. Sick like you are so accustomed to after a long night hopping from bar to bar, drinking their wells dry with your insatiable desire for alchohol. Those two week benders finally paid off for you, didn't they? Living the life. Being the man! It's awesome, isn't it. Sitting around dumpsters, smelling my ****, and eating the trash that I throw away! CONGRATULATIONS! You are officially the lowest form of life on this planet. You are nothing more than a bottom feeder.
~{/SETTING\}~
Jimmy reaches his arm down to the floor and grabs a skull. He pulls it up above his head, without moving anything else, and begins to look into the eyes. He snickers for a moment before continuing.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
You see this, Harold. This fake skull has more life in it than you. Again, you said it yourself, you are a robot. Nothing more than a pre-programed animal that was trained to attack and only attack. You know nothing of the love and admiration that so many people had for you through the years. From this point on, I must tell you, that you are dead to me. Your soul doesn't exist. Your past, is just history in a book. And your future, well, that is all too different. It will be marred with defeat. Encrusted with the blood from your body, and glazed with the failure that is bound to fall upon you.
This Sunday, in the greatest city in the world. In the most famous arena in the world. Your reign of terror will come to an end. Your time of running roughshod through the nCw with nothing but a singular goal of just inflicting as much pain as you can on whoever stood in the ring opposite you is over. Sadly, you only inflict pain on them because you don't have the balls to do it to yourself. You don't have the guts to inflict the pain and hatred on yourself for all the mistakes you made to put yourself in this situation. I got no respect for someone who can't take responsibility for themselves, or their mistakes. You have stated that you no longer want or care to be the man you used to be. That's fine. It is more comfortable for me to not care anyway. It just bares witness to my transformation. It just enhances the fact that I am my father's son, and this Sunday, you will finally know that for a fact.
~{/SETTING\}~
Jimmy sits the skull down on his chest and then crosses his arms on his stomach. He then gets a look of severe anger on his face and turns his head to the side so the camera can see his face.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
I heard you invited my mom to the show. I even heard that you paid for the ticket. I would hate to know what you had to do to obtain a ticket for the show, let alone a front row ticket. I talked to mom, and she is coming. I hope she does. I really do. Because it has been her goal for me to pull you from the depths of darkness. It has been her dream for me to help you seperate from Adam Knite and see the light again. But now, my mother has turned on you too. She doesn't care anymore. You have attacked her son, and that, she will not, and cannot accept.
All roads do come to an end, Harold. And yours, like many before you, will not end well. It will not end with a victory for you. It will not end with your hand raised in the air, and it will not end with another win over me. I refuse to sit back and let someone like you beat me again. I refuse to stand idley by and let you continue your trip around nCw as a maniacal and devious being. I swear with all that I am, Harold, your end is near. Your end is coming, and it's coming this Sunday night, right here in New York City!
~{/SETTING\}~
Jimmy suddenly springs up and leans forward into the camera. It focuses in tight on his face, and his eyes widen, and his body begins to shake.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
You want to know if I got what it takes to beat you, Harold? You want to know if I have the courage and stamina to hang with you? You want to know if I can go places that I don't want to go, just to beat you? You have no idea what I am capable of, but you will. I am willing to go farther, and deeper, than I have ever gone before to destroy you. Your attempt to throw me off by inviting my mother is nothing but a ploy to distract me. You fear me, Harold. In the pit of your gut. In the depths of your soul. Through the darkness of night! Through the light of day. The last thing you want is for me to prove to you that I am my father's son! You couldn't beat him, Harold. You know it, and I know it. You took him to the limit time and time again, but you just couldn't get over the hump. So what have you done? You took it out on his son. Wow, how awesome are you. Really.
So, you beat on my father's son. You attempted to mangle and destroy me. You attempted to end my life and my career, and yet, I am still standing. The very thought of everything that I am, and everything that I am going to be scares the living **** out of you. You speak of my resilience. You speak of how I bounce back stronger and faster after every beating, and you act like you are surprised. You know the blood that flows through my veins, and you know the desire in my heart, Harold. None of which you can change. None of which, you can vanquish.
I want you to know here and now that I am willing to go to the ends of the earth and back again to make sure that when I put you down, you stay down. The desire to mame you runs through my blood like a river of hatred. A constant flow of pain and suffering befit of someone like you. I don't want to just beat you, Harold. I want to hurt you. I want you to actually suffer. You claim that nothing phases you, and nothing is able to penetrate your soul to that depth. You will, my friend. You will suffer at my hands like no man has ever suffered before.
~{/SETTING\}~
Jimmy reaches for a goblet sitting on the table next to him. He whisks it around and then drinks it down. A few moments go by as he begins to shake in the chair. The shaking stops as his head jerks back against the high backing of the chair. He is motionless and silent for a moment. As he comes to, he begins rambling what seems to be incoherent babble. The madman inside springs forward as the VooDoo Child is reborn.
~{/JIMMY ZANE\}~
The darkness reveals the answers to the dark fold. Can we make sure that the darkness allows precious times to communicate to the darkened souls of those who betray us? For the dark of night allows the rituals to come through. We allow the spirits to come through the night with the blessings of the darkness. Let their powers reign through our eternal souls. Let us see the darkness of the damned and let us awake for the power of the night and show the unknown that we are ready to behold the power. Let us show them that the darkness is not evil, but is merely a figmant of our imagination and beliefs in the dark side of life. Let our mortal souls rise above those around us and lead us through the fear and doubt. The darkness is the way, and those who are surround by death and spirits will let it be known to those who refuse to see that anything is possible through love, trust and faith in their abilities.
The blackened nights still shine through the ress and I can still hear the dead calling out my name in honor. Honoring the great one that has died long ago. They still slip through the night, looking for lost souls. You, Harold, are that lost soul. They are coming to call you home, as the seven deadly sins have walked upon your soul. You are lost in this world of hate, and soon, I will lose the good side of me and go. I will let your blood run all over me as I sit and wait for who you know by his name. For he is the keeper and the darkness in the night. He is the light of the moon, and his name I call out.
Darkness has set in on Sunday. The impending doom is upon you, Harold, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. You set the wheels in motion with no way of stopping the growth of new birth within me. It is almost like the day of Armageddon foryou. Let your soul go because the darkness is coming for you, and I am the keeper of the darkness. The time has come, Harold, and this Sunday, when the darkness rolls in, and that chill rolls up your spine, please remember one thing. You brought this upon yourself. There is nobody to blame, and no way to avoide it.
I am what my concience is. I am what I know is good. I am what I believe in. And you, will REAP THE WHIRLWIND!
~{/SETTING\}~
Zane starts laughing a hysterical laugh. His laughter echoing through the room as the scene fades to black.