Post by kaiser on Aug 25, 2011 18:53:48 GMT -5
The scene fades in slowly, the camera out of focus. The blurred shades of black and white can’t be made out, but look like brush strokes made in rush and confusion. The camera focuses, and the message is made clear. White chalk marks are made on a black wall, and it reads what can only be described as an eerie poem.
I’m coming home, I’m coming home,
Tell the world I’m coming home.
Let the rain wash away
All the pain of yesterday.
I know my kingdom awaits,
And they’ve forgiven my mistakes,
I’m coming home, I’m coming home,
Tell the world I’m coming home.
A hand moves over the lens and grabs the side of the camera, turning it forcefully over to reveal the face of Kaiser Chanson, who has a solemn look on his face. His eyes seem to gaze straight through the camera lens, into the soul of you, the viewer. He appear as if he’s about to speak, but the scene disappears in television static. The static cuts to black, but within a moment, it cuts back to static. The static stops, and the black wall can be seen again, now with a silhouette standing before the opening aperture of the camera. Kaiser can be seen pacing behind it, walking back and forth. He suddenly comes to a standstill. His head turns to the side, his cold eyes meeting the camera again. The recording cuts to a cheerful looking scene. A sewn puppet of Hayden HardKore is walking down a bright cartoon-y boulevard, strings pulling on his arms and legs to give the illusion of him walking. Kaiser’s voice can be heard as the scene begins.
Kaiser Chanson
[/color]I’m coming home, I’m coming home,
Tell the world I’m coming home.
Let the rain wash away
All the pain of yesterday.
I know my kingdom awaits,
And they’ve forgiven my mistakes,
I’m coming home, I’m coming home,
Tell the world I’m coming home.
A hand moves over the lens and grabs the side of the camera, turning it forcefully over to reveal the face of Kaiser Chanson, who has a solemn look on his face. His eyes seem to gaze straight through the camera lens, into the soul of you, the viewer. He appear as if he’s about to speak, but the scene disappears in television static. The static cuts to black, but within a moment, it cuts back to static. The static stops, and the black wall can be seen again, now with a silhouette standing before the opening aperture of the camera. Kaiser can be seen pacing behind it, walking back and forth. He suddenly comes to a standstill. His head turns to the side, his cold eyes meeting the camera again. The recording cuts to a cheerful looking scene. A sewn puppet of Hayden HardKore is walking down a bright cartoon-y boulevard, strings pulling on his arms and legs to give the illusion of him walking. Kaiser’s voice can be heard as the scene begins.
Kaiser Chanson
Hayden HardKore. So many people praise him. Hayden trots around on his high horse and stands high atop his pedestal, and the adoring public eats it up like a fat American at the Burger King. Hayden HardKore is such an icon that he’s almost synonymous with GHW. Not a conversation of this company can pass men by without mentioning their beloved Hayden. And It doesn't matter what you had for dinner! Because he has two titles? Because he takes on all challengers? The Puppet Master, he challenge Hayden. Yet Hayden say nothing. If there is a word in your English diction that Hayden should be synonymous with, it is, how you say, fake. You see, Hayden and Mr. Smark think that they pull all the strings in this GHW. But they do not. We are all marionettes in The Puppet Master’s production. The Puppet Master loves to create his illusions. He fools the masses. They think what The Puppet Master wants them to think. He pulls a string for Hayden—“ Kaiser tugs on the string connected to the puppet’s arm to demonstrate, “--and Hayden thinks he did something right for once. He makes you love the babyfaces, and he makes you hate the heels. And yet you think that these people, ces gens stupides, have personality, that they’re real. But they’re all imaginary. The Puppet Master is the only person who is real, and he thinks that this time he needs to pull strings for himself. He no longer wishes to pull the strings for Hayden, or for Smarky, or for Dominick. The Puppet Master is becoming sick of his puppets.
Kaiser lifts the small marionette of Hayden up, away from the cheerful scene. Back to the dark room with the poem in chalk, back to reality. Chanson holds the puppet up to his face, looking it right in the face as he continues on.
Kaiser Chanson
Hayden has the nerve to call himself a legend. He’s done nothing. He let himself be played by The Puppet Master, and he thinks he’s a champion. Champion is the last word that should be used to describe Mr. HardKore. I can think of a better five off the top of my head. Inintelligents, faux, avide, égoïste, perdant. But no, you all cheer for him as his he’s as accoladed as The Puppet Master makes him out to be. The Puppet Master tell me that a great American once said “Great men do not wish for an easier life, wish to be stronger man.” Yet Hayden want more money, want more title. Want more easy life. Hayden is not a great man. Hayden is a coward. Hayden is pathetic. And the proof is, how you say, in the pudding.
Kaiser picks up a knife from the table before him, and holds it close to the puppet of Hayden, only centimeters from the marionette’s ‘neck’.
Kaiser Chanson
I’m not here to win matches. I’m not here to win championships, Hayden. I’m not here to harm you. I’m here to warn you of The Puppet Master. For he’s written a show. A grand script. And he’s cast you as his antagoniste. And he says that by the last act of the show, the héros will kill the scélérat.
In an action of example, Kaiser pushes the blade of the knife into the throat of the puppet, and head of Hayden’s small replica falls to the floor, and the camera cuts to static again, the Tuesday Night Triumph feed returning to normal.
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EOT
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