Post by mw on Apr 7, 2009 3:03:33 GMT -5
-.A camera pans into a close-up of a masked face, the lights begin to dim and the eyes behind the mask stare deeply into the camera. The camera pans out again, and a second comes in to a side profile, and shows the ornate desings that patern the mask, they are of all different colors..deep teals, light-hearted lanvenders, shocking yellows, and mellow blues. The individual wearing the mask is clad in a suit, very simple in respect to the mask, it is plain brown, pin-striped and well pressed. The jacket covers a white dress shirt, wich is offset by a brown bow-tie. The man lies on a black couch... leather maybe? He sits in a room, pitched black.. a single hanging lamp revolves overhead like a halo, breaking through the darkness, light reflects itself. The air is broken by the voice, ominous.. no louder then a whisper, it has a gentle buzz, it is the voice of Mr. Doctor. He asks.-
|]Mr. Doctor[|
*click* "What seems to be the problem Mr. Po?"
|]Mr. Po[|
"I dreamt of The Him again last night.. of a street of rooms. You find yourself down an all too familiar road.. young faces on every "corner". You have your Fighty fighty person here and there but the rift-raft are the ones that reside on this street. The street gets smaller, the walls swallow you.. and you can see the life of this ill-kept.. back-water part of town, the people... oh the "humanity"... those ones that squanders and squabbles over each breath, just wasting the air, taking it away from those that actually deserve it. His shirt is ruffled, hair frayed..this man walks with a purposes, his skill erupts from him, and it seeps through the walls... combines with the molecules of place, it tries to explode..to escape (Kim Po smacks his fist into his hands to demonstrate), but woe to it... it is caught inside the membrane of this street's triviality. He continues down the road, stumbling, tripping, falling over.. lands in-front of a place called Jaggeroth. It sits between The Janitors Closet, and a place called Nothingness. The pet leech who guards the door, sucks The Him dry, and he dies."
|]Mr. Doctor[|
*click* "How does that make you feel?"
|]Mr. Po[|
"How would you feel... this man takes hope, and life, and feeds on it, he his a sick reflection the worst that man is capable of, and.. we represent man's best. There is no balance to him..no order, he is in a world that naturally rectifies with itself, at least that is what I believe. For every devil... there is holy water, for every Dracula... a stake, every Frankenstein's monster... a burning windmill. I mean even nature rectifies itself, for every flame.. water to quench it, every question.. an answer, every illness.. eventually there is a cure. So how fitting is it, that for every Jaggeroth... there is a Raj Kim Po. He may have ruined my chance at tag-team gold, and very well my have taken a young women's life, but for all his atrocities... he will answer to me, I will bring balance to him and his sick circus, I will purge it and nothing will quench my flame. I feel like the wind is speaking...it says, Ha despertado el Dragon, y el Dragon está enojado. Vendetta!"
|]Mr. Doctor[|
*click* "Careful Mr. Po your anger."
|]Mr. Po[|
"I know."
-Raj turns on the light, a picture of pure destruction lies behind him, the ruined remains of what was once the locker of Jaggeroth. Broken televisions, up-turned tables, lockers that have been dug out. Random bit's of wrestling gear scatter the floor below. The cameras turn to show the face of "Mr. Doctor", a picture of smiling young man, with flowing hair... it is nailed to the wall. Wrote across it are the words, "Face of a Killer". Raj turns the lights out again, his shoes can be heard clicking the floor as he exits the room..after stepping over the fallen door, Raj turns... strikes a match and tosses it into the room, fire breaks. As it is melting, the tape recorder is heard once more over the crackling flames.-
*click* "What seems to be the probl..."
EoT...Or is it?
|]Mr. Doctor[|
*click* "What seems to be the problem Mr. Po?"
|]Mr. Po[|
"I dreamt of The Him again last night.. of a street of rooms. You find yourself down an all too familiar road.. young faces on every "corner". You have your Fighty fighty person here and there but the rift-raft are the ones that reside on this street. The street gets smaller, the walls swallow you.. and you can see the life of this ill-kept.. back-water part of town, the people... oh the "humanity"... those ones that squanders and squabbles over each breath, just wasting the air, taking it away from those that actually deserve it. His shirt is ruffled, hair frayed..this man walks with a purposes, his skill erupts from him, and it seeps through the walls... combines with the molecules of place, it tries to explode..to escape (Kim Po smacks his fist into his hands to demonstrate), but woe to it... it is caught inside the membrane of this street's triviality. He continues down the road, stumbling, tripping, falling over.. lands in-front of a place called Jaggeroth. It sits between The Janitors Closet, and a place called Nothingness. The pet leech who guards the door, sucks The Him dry, and he dies."
|]Mr. Doctor[|
*click* "How does that make you feel?"
|]Mr. Po[|
"How would you feel... this man takes hope, and life, and feeds on it, he his a sick reflection the worst that man is capable of, and.. we represent man's best. There is no balance to him..no order, he is in a world that naturally rectifies with itself, at least that is what I believe. For every devil... there is holy water, for every Dracula... a stake, every Frankenstein's monster... a burning windmill. I mean even nature rectifies itself, for every flame.. water to quench it, every question.. an answer, every illness.. eventually there is a cure. So how fitting is it, that for every Jaggeroth... there is a Raj Kim Po. He may have ruined my chance at tag-team gold, and very well my have taken a young women's life, but for all his atrocities... he will answer to me, I will bring balance to him and his sick circus, I will purge it and nothing will quench my flame. I feel like the wind is speaking...it says, Ha despertado el Dragon, y el Dragon está enojado. Vendetta!"
|]Mr. Doctor[|
*click* "Careful Mr. Po your anger."
|]Mr. Po[|
"I know."
-Raj turns on the light, a picture of pure destruction lies behind him, the ruined remains of what was once the locker of Jaggeroth. Broken televisions, up-turned tables, lockers that have been dug out. Random bit's of wrestling gear scatter the floor below. The cameras turn to show the face of "Mr. Doctor", a picture of smiling young man, with flowing hair... it is nailed to the wall. Wrote across it are the words, "Face of a Killer". Raj turns the lights out again, his shoes can be heard clicking the floor as he exits the room..after stepping over the fallen door, Raj turns... strikes a match and tosses it into the room, fire breaks. As it is melting, the tape recorder is heard once more over the crackling flames.-
*click* "What seems to be the probl..."
EoT...Or is it?
