Post by Marcus Welsh on Feb 26, 2023 19:43:12 GMT -5
St☠n _
We open to pupils looking back at the screen. No blinking, just an elongated stare from one soulless thing to another. Something seems distant, completely disconnected from reality. Like an alligator laying still, waiting for the right chance to present itself. Crazy can be dangerous, so can frustration. If those two don't get the job done, then only worsening options remain. Desperation can make a man do funny things. It also can serve as a spark to get things moving in the right direction. Sometimes you don't even know you need it until it happens. Then- el fuego! Things get hot. Outside the OCW Arena one such fire is brewing, a gray van pulls up in the lot. Cranking the window down, we see a battered face. He looks on a mission to find something, or someone. Confusion bounces around his dome in listless remembrances and flat ideas. He's been damaged. Maybe more than even he knows. His nature suggests an unstable presence. OCW Security is on alert.
We open to pupils looking back at the screen. No blinking, just an elongated stare from one soulless thing to another. Something seems distant, completely disconnected from reality. Like an alligator laying still, waiting for the right chance to present itself. Crazy can be dangerous, so can frustration. If those two don't get the job done, then only worsening options remain. Desperation can make a man do funny things. It also can serve as a spark to get things moving in the right direction. Sometimes you don't even know you need it until it happens. Then- el fuego! Things get hot. Outside the OCW Arena one such fire is brewing, a gray van pulls up in the lot. Cranking the window down, we see a battered face. He looks on a mission to find something, or someone. Confusion bounces around his dome in listless remembrances and flat ideas. He's been damaged. Maybe more than even he knows. His nature suggests an unstable presence. OCW Security is on alert.
He parks the van after much consideration. Security observes from afar, still trying to assess a motive. Walking toward the entry doors for talent, he is rebuffed by security, and has no ID to prove himself. He gets aggressive, freaked out at the prospect of being turned away. Not being accepted, again, in his life. He walks back toward the lot. He picks up a rock, tossing it through the window, darting by personnel and breaching the attendance gate. A siren sounds around the arena. An intruder is on the grounds of OCW!
ᐯEᑎI ᐯIᗪI ᐯIᑕI
Tommy(Thres) _ "No- no! That's not even the best part of the story! DUDE- soooo, after that, she tells me that I could call her, but onnnnnly on facetime, and onnnnnly from an upside-down headstand! (bashfully) How wild is that?? Dude! Have you ever done a donkey pic for a chick? Ya know, where you let your schlong dangle back up your chest?? Gross?! Posssssibly! SHE LOVvvVvED IT!"
Stanley(Stan) _ "JEEEESsssuUUUSSss! I don't wanna know about your sexploits!! I'm getting this check, Pop gave me a little cash to send you off the right way! Old man finally did something right!!" (playful shove)
Chardanay glasses chime like the keys of a xylophone; waiters take orders wearing upscale tuxedos. They put in drink orders like strippers showing you where to put the twenty. In an environment filled with possibility, perversions, and lots of socializing, discussions in varying locations are overheard. One such chat takes center stage, just over there...
Tommy(Thres) _ "No- no! That's not even the best part of the story! DUDE- soooo, after that, she tells me that I could call her, but onnnnnly on facetime, and onnnnnly from an upside-down headstand! (bashfully) How wild is that?? Dude! Have you ever done a donkey pic for a chick? Ya know, where you let your schlong dangle back up your chest?? Gross?! Posssssibly! SHE LOVvvVvED IT!"
Looking over the fancy menu selections. Semi-grossed out by the conversation.
Stanley(Stan) _ "JEEEESsssuUUUSSss! I don't wanna know about your sexploits!! I'm getting this check, Pop gave me a little cash to send you off the right way! Old man finally did something right!!" (playful shove)
Full spectrum takes shape, at an enchantingly beautiful restaurant somewhere within the alleys of Manhattan, where two young brothers enjoy a meal at a vital point in their development. Thomas is set to deploy tomorrow... while the long-haired younger Stanley comes to grips with the situation. Stan picks at his food, Thomas knows something's wrong. He sighs deeply, placing a reassuring hand on Stan's shoulder. They share a reluctant grin. A change of subject-
Tommy(Thres) _ (drinking) "Do you remember when we used to play dodgeball at that Spanish teachers house? The old Italian broad! What was her name?? Mrs.Esposito!!?"
Stanley(Stan) _ "I called her Anita when class was finished. The lady that could roll her R's even when the word didn't have one? I tend to recall..." (hand on chin)
Stanley(Stan) _ "Ohhh- fuuuck, and then she's say that we didn't care about anything but wrestling and that's alllllllll Pop evvvver (winding finger) talked about was us one day being in the business on top! She really wasn't wrong... was she? Man, she would go on and oooonnn!"
Tommy(Thres) _ "She'd say he had a one track mind, nothing but dominating would do for him! She had Pop sizzzzed up!! What was the phrase? Latin, right? She'd say all he wants are the three V's... vick, or- viss- What was ITTT!? I came, I saw, I-" (both stop)
Stanley/Thomas _ (cross their arms) "VENI, VIDI, VICI!!!!!"
Stanley(Stan) _ "I called her Anita when class was finished. The lady that could roll her R's even when the word didn't have one? I tend to recall..." (hand on chin)
Stanley points at Tommy cracking up. He nods between sips of something strong.
Tommy(Thres) _ (blushes) "I had a huggge crush on herrr! Everyone did, though."
Stanley(Stan) _ "Oh, I know it, bro- I got kicked out of her office, err seven- or eight times!!"
Beginning to count on his fingers...
Stanley(Stan) _ "Oh, I know it, bro- I got kicked out of her office, err seven- or eight times!!"
Stan nods admiringly in agreement at his big brother. Trying to fight back the tears internally, knowing that Tommy will know if it starts to show. His terror about his brother potentially dying in war, or worse... stories of recruits never making it home were all over his google searches. Despite all that, he tried to play it cool, keep it light.
Stanley(Stan) _ "Ohhh- fuuuck, and then she's say that we didn't care about anything but wrestling and that's alllllllll Pop evvvver (winding finger) talked about was us one day being in the business on top! She really wasn't wrong... was she? Man, she would go on and oooonnn!"
Nearly falling over from the delightful memory.
Tommy(Thres) _ "She'd say he had a one track mind, nothing but dominating would do for him! She had Pop sizzzzed up!! What was the phrase? Latin, right? She'd say all he wants are the three V's... vick, or- viss- What was ITTT!? I came, I saw, I-" (both stop)
They exchanged a familiar expression when it hits home.
Stanley/Thomas _ (cross their arms) "VENI, VIDI, VICI!!!!!"
Lifting the tablecloth after the snooty waiter passes; he slides a box over to Tommy. Tommy's eyes water for a split second. He pulls the bow, looking at Stanley just like he always had. Proud of the footsteps he'd followed, and the ones he hadn't.
Tommy removes the top of a jewelry box. Out comes the new polished version of Stan's now beat to shit skull and crossbones lighter. Diamonds encrust an axe and hammer as the crossbones on its face. Another engraving on the very bottom reads in fine cursive, "to my brother, the highest threshold." With both brothers about to lose composure, they share a warm embrace. Stans eyes over Tommy's shoulder look worried as hell. Tommy's stare over Stan's shoulder is cold, ready for war.
Chuckling together, sharing the same laugh that up until then was a lifetime of normal; one soon changed by the loss of naivety through the natural passage of time. The undeniable bond born long before, through blood brotherhood, the training and maniacal attention to detail... would be tested like never before. Pop would become determined with Thomas gone to war that Stan had to become the ultimate wrestling prodigy.
Tommy(Thres) _ "What's this?? I told yooooou not to spend on me, Stanley!" (stan rolls his eyes)
Tommy removes the top of a jewelry box. Out comes the new polished version of Stan's now beat to shit skull and crossbones lighter. Diamonds encrust an axe and hammer as the crossbones on its face. Another engraving on the very bottom reads in fine cursive, "to my brother, the highest threshold." With both brothers about to lose composure, they share a warm embrace. Stans eyes over Tommy's shoulder look worried as hell. Tommy's stare over Stan's shoulder is cold, ready for war.
Stanley(Stan) _ "Don't die, okay? Promise me." (extends his side of crossbones)
Wanting what's best for his younger sibling...
Tommy(Thres) _ (smitten by guilt) "Alllllright, little bro- I promiiiiise. WOW- I can't believe you remember Mrs.Esposito! ANITAA!!" (completes the crossbones)
Chuckling together, sharing the same laugh that up until then was a lifetime of normal; one soon changed by the loss of naivety through the natural passage of time. The undeniable bond born long before, through blood brotherhood, the training and maniacal attention to detail... would be tested like never before. Pop would become determined with Thomas gone to war that Stan had to become the ultimate wrestling prodigy.
Meanwhile, in the heart of conflict, Tommy would find out a lot about himself, and find his own threshold. Somewhere in the Middle East, two years later... we see the lighter more grizzled, flicking into flame, glowing at the end of a rolled cigarette. There's Thomas on the other end. Lost in the distance, he is oblivious to the large explosions all around him. His sergeant screams at him to find cover- SSHHHHHEEEEEWWWWW! BOOOOOOOOOM! Deafening screams in a muted distance. Limbs fly in front of the stale smoking expression of Thomas. He tucks his ruined red rolling papers back into his coat.
Tommy(Thres) _ "Maybbbbeeee now he'll finally shut the FUCK UPPPP!!"
Soldiers slowly emerge from hiding spots.
Covered in bloody muck, Tommy picks pieces of charred flesh out of his hair. Looking at all the others, who are terrified of him. One of the other soldiers reluctantly offers him a fresh towel to clean up. Tommy snatches it, still demonstratively showing symptoms of PTSD.
Tommy(Thres) _ (peels chunk off boot) "Even dead this asshole is disgusting... how many more body parts do I have to see? When does this nightmare end? I spent my life running my own path away from my father's. This doesn't feel like much of a future. This is no fuckin' future. None at all."
After the smoke clears, he lowers the cigarette to ash it, laughing to himself at the irony of not wanting to burn himself, when a man just was dismembered in front of him. Soldiers run up and grab Tommy by the shirt, pulling him to safety away from incoming blast radius. Trying to get them to let him die, he reacts with strong resistance... then, he accidentally drops the lighter. They keep dragging him away, but he dives reaching for it, remembering just then "Don't die okay, promise me?" His heart and soul conflict- he groans loudly, tackling two of the soldiers to desperately reach for the only bit of life he has left. Symbolizing that last promise to live to fulfill... his little brother's. He snatches the skull and crossbones lighter, putting it in his pocket- WHACK! The back stock of a rifle knocks him unconscious. Rain falls outside.
Tommy awakes with a knot on his head, trying to rub it out. He's strapped to a chair, restrained flat at the feet, hips, shoulders, and head. Medics leave the room. In the corner, out of the shadows walks a face. Pop, in uniform walks over to his eldest son. Tommy's face looks relieved to see his dad. His image disintegrates, Thomas wakes up in a cold sweat in the back of a Jeep.
It drives into what sounds like enemy territory. Abruptly, the car stops. Soldiers toss him into a small cell somewhere on the edge of lion territory. Before bed, a few of them take turns opening the cell to savagely beat Thomas. In the morning, the rest of the soldiers find them all strung up above the tree line. As they cut the bodies down, gruesome axe marks become evident on their heads and necks. It's clear the men were more than self-defended. An act of undisputable horrifying rage. The men search for Tommy in the trees. Shaking with their guns loaded. In the rain, we see Tommy's seething face and inhuman eyes, bloody and desensitized, yearning to hurt anything else in his path. Whatever it takes to fulfill his promise to survive.
Tommy(Thres) _ "GOT IT! Stan, I got it- wwwhhhatt the fu-uuooock?? Who the-" (groan, thud)
Tommy awakes with a knot on his head, trying to rub it out. He's strapped to a chair, restrained flat at the feet, hips, shoulders, and head. Medics leave the room. In the corner, out of the shadows walks a face. Pop, in uniform walks over to his eldest son. Tommy's face looks relieved to see his dad. His image disintegrates, Thomas wakes up in a cold sweat in the back of a Jeep.
Tommy(Thres) _ (whisper) "Where the hell are we?? Para-military? What is this? I have to find my moment and strike quickly, with force. I can't let anyone get meee! AAHHRR!"
It drives into what sounds like enemy territory. Abruptly, the car stops. Soldiers toss him into a small cell somewhere on the edge of lion territory. Before bed, a few of them take turns opening the cell to savagely beat Thomas. In the morning, the rest of the soldiers find them all strung up above the tree line. As they cut the bodies down, gruesome axe marks become evident on their heads and necks. It's clear the men were more than self-defended. An act of undisputable horrifying rage. The men search for Tommy in the trees. Shaking with their guns loaded. In the rain, we see Tommy's seething face and inhuman eyes, bloody and desensitized, yearning to hurt anything else in his path. Whatever it takes to fulfill his promise to survive.
⚒
Back in the present, Stan and his sage, Steffin, prepare to come out at guerilla. The Standard sports an all-black dress suit with matching collared trench. Carpe Noctem II: The Great Illuminatus is on the horizon, and this sold-out OCW house show is ready for build up! Checking their media guides, fans freak out trying to get a look at the OCW Newcomer of the Month in January. His music hits, Square Hammer by Ghost- he and Steffin walk down the ramp. Clearly agitated, The Standard motions to cut his throat, which ends the music over the PA. Stan demands an audience, snatching a microphone from an OCW ring hand, who runs for their life. He slides into the ring, mad-dogging Steffin, then stomping around with something on his mind.
St☠n _
'NOW WHAT KIND OF STANDARD IS THIS? Standard nobodies out to watch wrastlin' on another night where they wanna drink their worries away! Look Steffin, THAT GUY HAS A WHITE CLAW! RIGHT THERE! SECURITY!!! NOW SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP! If you're going to drink in here, then DRINK IN HERE! Is that so much to REQUIRE?? Unbelievable!!'Steffin nods in approval. Stan picks up where he left off. Making sure to mock people in the crowd if they do it to him first. Eventually, he tires of the shenanigans, getting down to brass tax.
St☠n _
'As fun as it is to demean and belittle you, it's also like shooting fish in a barrel, so let's move on, shall we? Carpe Noctem is everything. (seriously) It can makes one person in a magical celebration on their career jubilee... or, it can break 20 aspiring competitors in an instant. That's the point. You have to suffer to get what YOU WANNNTTT! ANNNNDDD STEFFIINNN? What is it that I want!? OHHHHH, RIGHT! The OCW World Heavyweight Championship. You could say I more then want it. You could say... I, neeeed it. That I won't stop untiiiiil I get it. All reliably true statements. So what are the cones I have to run over or drive around? Well, other than myself, only the Champion is known coming into The Great Illuminatus...' (murmurs start)Fans breakout the PIC gear greatest hits; hats that look like vagina logos, overly sexualized long haired male dolls, and GI PIC, a Commando toy line where he doesn't wear underwear. His die-hards make their allegiance known. A few of them also try to suck on their own nipples between promotions. They chant that Stan sucks, yet he grins widely, knowing something that they don't. With a sly glare, he continues...
St☠n _
St☠n _
'IS HE YOUR HEROOOO? (taunting) PIC is a hard guy not to like. (commercial hair flip) Until he starts that wax poetic shit and our ears start to leak. PIC, how have you been around this long and still never hired a speech coach? They aren't that expensive! Not for your promos, for your disability- you do have one, right?'
Booing fans get louder. Steffin paces nervously behind Stan. Turning around to tell his sage to stop that annoying habit, music strikes the OCW loudspeakers. Veni, Vidi, Vici by Highland hits. Stan's face looks on perplexed by the choice of song. He thinks to himself the possibilities... Steffin smirks as Thomas makes his way down to the theme. Tommy slides in to a huge pop after the earlier promo that had shown his story. Stan and Tommy hug it out, even Steffin gets half a leg of Tommy's to grab. Stan steps back, surprised his brother has joined him in the work their father always wanted them to do.
St☠n _
'OHHHHHHHHhhh boy! SEEE, I told you I knew something you didn't! My brother here, is just as gifted as I am. That's all you need to know! YOU'RE HEERRREE! VENI, VIDI, VICI!! I love it! Overcoming damage isn't easy to do, but we channel it, and conquer! No more nibbling around the edges of the Massacre roster's lamest players. I need more! We are here to take the fuck over!! OCW, bow down to your new WORLD CHAMPION, THE TRUE STANDARD BUILT FOR PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING! STTTANNNNN! OCW can afford to buy top dollar once more and stop depending on the recycle bin of regurgitated trash. You're welcome! I do it because I care! About me!' (hammer fist)He tosses the microphone to Thomas, the crowd rumbles in anticipation. Gathering his thoughts, sharing a few handshakes with Stan. Wrinkles in his face tell the story of where's he's been and how far he's traveled to be here now. The words finally hit him.
Thres _
Thres _
'I KEEEEEP MY PROMISES! STANLEY! (pop) The difference between us and everyone else here- we make this look good! We are better by design. Our father made every calculation for supreme performance in this squared circle. You want to beat us together? You better bring an army of sick fucks- willing to die for the cause, because they will, and WE ARE! (referencing facial scars) Stan will prove that every word spoken in OCW moving forward, will be on HIS time. Interviews will require HIS approval. Talent in the back will bow down to HIM, as OCW World Champion. YOU HEAR THAT! WELL YOU BETTER WAKKKKKE UPPPPP!!'
Stan takes the microphone back, nodding his head in eternal glee. The three men hold up crossed arms to symbolize the axe and hammer sides of the skull and crossbones. Fans aren't sure what to make of them yet but go along for the moment. The Standard has more on his mind, wanting the address the mighty elephant in the room, taking up all the damn oxygen.
St☠n _
St☠n _
'OCW, PIC, don't act like you didn't see this coming. YOU NEED ME IN THIS SLOT! YOU EVEN WANT ME IN IT! To hold you accountable! Someone has to! It sure the fuck isn't going to be Thunder Knuckles! We've seen that movie until we're all blue in the face. I've got blue balls just from knowing about it- well, and from waiting MY TURN! AND HERE IT IS! 20 guys to toss out of the way for a chance at ETERNAL GLORY! Count me IN! Truth be told, I'm a little disappointed, PIC. I think we all have been with you for some time now. Dodging the best people here, and for what? You've been cruising for months doing the same old shit with TK, and the OCW Universe finally got sick of it! These people may cheer now! BUT WHEN I HAVE YOU AT THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS, RIGHT WHERE I WANT YOU... they- will be HELPLESS to stop it! Just me, you, and the Hammer of Hades may decide this outcome. The other people in the match? They better stay out of the way. If they don't, they'll end up like you, PIC. Stuck in a cycle of old shit dressed up in new makeup every card. Take a fucking pic of that, clown! (middle finger selfie) Let's let OCW have a real LEADER AGAIN! Someone with vision! Complex thoughts! Someone who believes in high standards. The last thing anyone thinks about with you, is pushing the envelope. I mean, really, PIC... I'm not even going to lick a stamp to send you off.' (waving goodbye)
Steffin, The Savant, sets up a table behind the two brothers. On it is a spread of crackers and cream cheese. Stan looks at Steffin blankly. Steffin pulls impossibly from behind him a tray of drinks he was hiding. Stan and Thres look around him, confused on how he did it. Steffin assures them that a great showman never reveals his methods. Thres heads over to the drinks first, pouring himself and the other two men a shot of some whiskey. They hold up the three glasses. Just as they're about to drink, Stan scowls at Steffin, as if to say no drinking on the job. The Savant puts his shot back down after a puppy dog lip.
St☠n _
St☠n _
'Here's to good health! Well, ours! Here's to another opportunity to show the world what we are! Here's to all the fans that will need someone new to cheer for! Here's to the doctors at Noctem, who surely will have to work miracles to save PIC. Oh- AND HERE'S TO POP! Who made all of this possible, long, long ago. OCW World Champion... ya know, I like the sound of that! Finally, something refreshing to sink our teeth into around here. No more dick PIC's. He can go hang out with Brian Turner, and I can lead the new wave of OCW Stars! Well- okay, we will have to find some real stars, first, but AFTER THAT... we should be good! Maybe we can get one of those TEMP Applications like Qwick! Get all the local INDY guys who want a shot at the real deal! Because the Steve Black's and Bob Grenier's of the world just aren't cutting it anymore! (triggered) DON'T YOU HAVE STANDARDS?? Oh. Well... you will. I will come. I will see. I will conquer Carpe Noctem II.
Veni, Vidi, Vici.'
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Veni, Vidi, Vici.'
Their music hits again, the three men make their way to the back, Stan making sure to leave a trail of confidence in his wake for Carpe Noctem II. Steffin and Thres follow as the OCW Universe is left to ponder, what will happen, and who will leave victorious? Not PIC.