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| Faces of the past; Montana RP (single) | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 19 2009, 11:12 AM (144 Views) | |
| Jesse Montana | Nov 19 2009, 11:12 AM Post #1 |
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Sensation of CZW
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Drip...Drip...Drip... As the sound of water dripping echoes through his mind, the man begins to awaken from his unconsciousness. His eyelids slowly open and we begin to realize we are seeing the scene from his eyes, inside his mind. His vision remains blurred as though he has been unconscious for a long period of time. Though not much can be distinguished from the surroundings, the man notices something is not exactly right. As the blood gushes to his head and his eyes begin to water, he notices he is hanging from a large metal cord, his body hanging upside down, about three feet off the ground. The panic begins… He shivers now starting to desperately try and remember back, how did he get here? Where can he possibly be? As his vision continues to get more and more vivid, more of the setting becomes apparent. He also starts to notice another few sounds other than the constant annoyance of a leaky pipe or a spongy roof. A dark and disturbing song pierces through his ears like demonized voices inside his head. A tuneful music box combined by another sound, a sound of more popular music. (Please play at 100% - 75% sound level) --- (Please play at 25% sound level, as though the music is in the background of the music box) --- The singers voice echoes like a ghostly cry, and as the two sounds merge together, a sense of gloom fades into his thoughts, and what comes with that is more and more questions. The panic continues… A sound of a person whistling over the chorus to the famous melody can now be heard. Who is this person? Are they responsible for his abduction? with the sharp whistling sound comes another sound, footsteps. The person must be close by, maybe they have noticed the awaking of their victim. The man blinks solidly trying to regain some kind of sight, eventually picturing a dark shadow walking about. The man looks bulky, about six feet tall, and is wearing a large overcoat, more like a full body attire. Colors are hard to detect in this man’s dreamy state, however his overcoat seems white. If that is so, what is that other color? Like red paint…or blood. The panic continues… Now quickly observing that the situation he finds himself in is dangerous, he begins to look around desperately. There must be a way out. His capture seems to be in a deserted and dull car park. The whole building looks lonesome and abandoned, with only one purpose now in it’s retired state, a place of torture. The dripping gets more constant as does his thoughts. Even though he is freezing, his head pours with sweat, the blood in his head causing his whole face to be scolding. He tries not to struggle too much and build attention towards him, who knows who this assailant is. A few destroyed vehicles litter the ominous car park, possibly a mechanics yard or a scrap yard. Quickly his head turns, as a sound of clanging metal is heard from the mysterious man. Then he notices, the blood is not only on his coat, there is a long winding trail covering the concrete floor. The trail of blood reaches right below his head. He tries to check on himself, is he bleeding? He feels fine, apart from feeling this traumatism from this nightmare. As he follows the trail of blood in more detail, he notices he is not alone with this stranger. Hanging by his side is another man, another victim. Only this man is not conscious, in fact this man does not seem to have any life in him at all. It is not water dripping form a leaky pipe, or a broken roof, it is not even water. It is blood. Blood is seeping out of this man’s body. Seeping out of a large gash in the side of his abdomen, a cut which is so deep parts of his ribcage can be seen protruding out from his bone tissue and flesh. Is this his fate?! The panic continues… This man has been torn apart! Is this really happening? What the f**k is this man doing? The footsteps are just as piercing as the music previously, as annoying as his whistling. Does this man believe this to be a normal practice. His whistling tells the man hanging that it’s normal duty. Why exactly is he walking back and forth, like some kind of exercise routine. What is his business? The man who hangs from his feet now tries his hardest to establish more answers. He has no choice but to watch this strange individual more closely. It sure seems to be blood on his coat, likely blood from the poor randomer beside him. The metal clanging, the blood, the overcoat, it all seems so ominous. Suddenly the man flinches, unable to avoid choking as quietly as he possibly can. He begins to puke down the side of his cheek, trickling over his hair and dripping below him. The man has seen something disturbing. As the assailant whistles to himself, he picks an object up. The scene becomes more clear, as what the man holds in his grasp is not just an object, it is a body part. Dripping with blood and fluid is a man’s head, severed from the neck. Veins and arteries hang down like pieces of string, matted with body tissue and blood. The hanging man looks directly into the eyes of the severed head. It used to be a man’s identity, alive, a man’s face, now just a body part in this destroyers sordid games. The man is actually walking back and forth picking up body parts; legs that have been scraped to the bone, arms, hands, organs, bones that have bits of cartilage hanging off. The man is possessed, with no emotion. He places the head down on the table in front of him, and grabs a metal coping saw. The delight from this evil demon is apparent as he quietly laughs to himself, while pleasurably sawing the deceased head in two. The whole ordeal is too much t take, as the sick froths from the hanging man’s mouth, it makes him cough uncontrollably. Even though his eyes are blurred from his tears, he catches sight of the murderous torturer. He has seen him… The panic continues… Though his identity remains a mystery due to the dark shadow covering his face, icy blue glowing eyes persevere from the hooded darkness. He smiles and stares, muttering to himself like a wounded creature just walked into his path of torture. Why does he seem to familiar? Why do we recognize his twisted ways? He begins to walk slowly towards the hanging man, who is now fitting with pure fright. The footsteps, the are getting closer, more frequent, the whistling, the dragging sound of his monstrous saw. Suddenly a sound of something hitting the ground distracts this beast, as part of the severed head rolls across the floor. A sense of relief reigns around the man’s body, however he knows if he is to get out of this situation alive, his escape must be orchestrated now. He starts pulling at the chain, pulling on his leg, wriggling intensely, trying to do anything to find his freedom. He knows he only has seconds left. Suddenly a sound of choking is heard as he looks up across at the man who is hanging beside him. His weary face looks back at him, his eyes filled with defeat. And with this, comes the attentions of the slaughterer again. Now his footsteps are more like trots, as he limps over towards the man who is choking dramatically. We look through the eyes of the man hanging, looking over at the killer, as he begins to rub his blooded hands all over the face of the scarred individual. He then proceeds to pull a pair of scissors out of his pocket. Without hesitation he thrusts the sharp metal in the man’s right eye, as blood and fluid oozes out. The man screams in pain, as the killer twists and pulls at the scissors, pulling them out. On the end of the metal is an eyeball, skewered on the scissors. Blood drips from the eyeball as he places it towards his face, then in an act of repulsion proceeds to eat the eye ball, as though it was a chunk of steak. The man dies slowly and painfully, his brain punctured by the scissors. We can now hear the main man’s heartbeat, knowing his time has come to an end. The killer drops the scissors to the ground, and twists his head to the side in some sort of demented way. He walks closer, now hovering over his hanging body, he is completely at the psycho’s mercy. He crouches down, his face now inches away, his breath excruciating, his stare agonizing. Suddenly he rips his hood from his face as the man is revealed… --- My goodness Mr. Montana, are you feeling alright? The sound of the Aussie Assistant, Stephen Butler can be heard, as we see Jesse Montana, the new CZW President. The camera zooms out as we see more of the scene. The two men seem to be walking around a neighborhood, one in which Montana would not normally be seen. Stephen has just stepped out of a large black limo, JM 01 on the license plate. Already a few teenagers are lurking around the car, trying to get a look on who the posh snob is that has arrived on their street. Jesse Montana clearly is feeling distressed, as he leans himself up upon a garden gate, his eyes glazed over with pure fright, his face pale white, his teeth jittering. Stephen runs quickly to Montana’s aid trying to prop him up, as Montana quickly thrusts him away like soggy tissue, growling at him as he stands back to his feet. I told you thousands of times before Butter, don’t touch the merchandise. Montana begins to polish down his cream colored suit, as Stephen Butler steps backwards, a look of sadness on his face as he swipes back his long black fringe. Sorry Mr. Montana. I was just trying to help, you seemed a little, out of it. Jesse is almost in another World right now, his eyes looking up towards the clouds above, hardly taking a notice on what his Assistant has to say. It was so real…the blood…the saw… Jesse now looks at the face of Butler, noticing how strange his words must be sounding. For Montana, keeping a posture of strength is far more important than being truthful. As Butler tries to help him again, Montana quickly returns to being himself again, as he looks Stephen straight in the face. Don’t even think about touching my suit again, I’m starting to get worried about you Butter…does everyone in Austria have to be so touchy touchy? That’s Australia sir… Don’t take that sort of tone with me Butter, I’ll Montana Express you back to wherever it is you came from, and don’t think I won’t! Montana smirks as he looks around, avoiding eye contact with some of the poorer urchins around the street. Montana’s interest seems to be more on the house he is standing in front of. The number says 324, on a golden plaque sitting above the front porch. The house could be considered larger than average, however to Montana’s standards, he has seen better inside his shed than this house. Montana places his hand on the garden gate, as he looks back at Stephen. People around here just don’t know how to live, Butter. Who would of thought a former Upstart would be living in such squander, just goes to show, you either make it…like myself, or you fail miserably. If you want to stay living the life of luxury Stephanie, you had better do everything you possibly can to avoid committing the ultimate crime…you don’t piss Montana off. Stephen nods his head at Montana as he nervously adjusts his tie on his light blue shirt. But sir, didn’t you have this man pushed down a flight of stairs… Montana looks back at Stephen as though he had just killed his Mother, almost making Stephen soil himself. That I did Butter, and if you don’t want yourself to have a similar ‘accident’ you had better stop opening that mouth of yours. Besides I hate European Accents. Stephen shakes his head in frustration as Montana now waits patiently at the front gate, as a gust of wind passes by, time seems to stand still. Well Stephanie, are we going to stand here all day? Open the damn gate. Stephen looks shocked, as Montana standing only inches away cannot partake in the most simple of tasks. Stephen walks around the limo as a few kids edge ever nearer, Stephen eventually walking up the garden path after letting Montana through the gate. Now that wasn’t so hard was it. When we get inside, I don’t want you to embarrass me with that unearthly accent you have going. So if you can either speak like I do, or just stick a sock in it, that would be much appreciated. Oh and don’t do that thing you always do… What thing Mr. Montana. You know the one, like making guys feel uncomfortable with your homosexual tendencies. What are you talking about Mr. Montana? I have a wife and two kids. Oh I know you have a wife Butter, in fact I got to know her ‘very’ well. And your kids, there very lovely kids, I’m sure their disabilities won’t stay with them forever. What disabilities? Look Butter, can you stop with all the questions. Just because your kids walked in on me having a sex sandwich with your wife and your sister, doesn’t mean they won’t grow up functioning properly. Now can you please knock on the door, I haven’t got all day. Stephen begins to shake with anger as he smashes his right hand on the door, almost knocking it off the framework. I said knock, not take the door off it’s hinges Butter. What exactly are we doing here anyway Mr. Montana? It’s simple, Montana has a plan, and just like last week when I shocked the whole world once again, Montana’s plans are always successful and genius. Now stop with all the questions Butter, your making me feel uncomfortable. Knock again will you. As Stephen knocks once more, the door slowly squeaks open as the pair step on inside without hesitation. Once inside, Montana begins to look around, while placing his suit blazer on a nearby peg. Butler walks into the front room, as he suddenly stops dead, the most horrid look on his face. A voice is then heard… ‘Well hello darling, are you here for my 4 o’clock?’ Jesse Montana now accompanies Butler in the front room as he throws himself backwards crashing into the wall in complete shock. ‘Good God man, it’s one of them!’ The camera slowly rotates around, to show a person sitting provocatively on the couch, a cigarette in hand. ![]() The transvestite spreads her legs even further as Montana and Butler step back in pure horror. ‘Don’t be alarmed sugar, I’m more woman than you can ever imagine…’ ‘Where…What…Who…DAMMIT STEPHEN TAKE YOUR EYES OFF IT!!!!’ The camera shoots round to Stephen who’s eyes are now fixated on the man-woman, almost staring at her. The man-woman now chuckles as she stands up, placing her smoked cigarette down in the ashtray. She then walks casually up towards Montana and leans on his shoulder. ‘What’s a matter big boy, am I making you feel…flustered.’ ‘AAHHHHH TAKE MERCHANDISE YOUR OFF HANDS!!!!!!!!!!!’ Montana panics as he runs off leaving the front room, hiding behind the door frame. The man-woman now looks at Stephen and winks. ‘Hehe, he’ll be back, they always come back in the end. Oh it seems like I have an admirer, what’s your name honey bun?’ ‘S..S…Stephen ma’m.’ ‘Awww don’t be shy Stephen, come and sit down next to me.’ The man-woman walks over to the couch once more as Stephen follows her, walking like a stuffed penguin. As he sits down, she places her hand on his right knee, speaking in a seductive voice. ‘Now do you mind telling pretty old me here what you two strapping young pieces of meat are doing, walking into my house like two angels?’ ‘Don’t you mean, my house, Mayoso!’ Suddenly the camera switches over to the doorway, as Mack Beaudin, the former CZW Superstar stands with a large grin on his face. His hair is short, and has a scar over his left eye where Karl Jackson hit a curb stomp on him. He wears a large purple jumper, wrapping over his large frame, and his denim jeans. As Montana hears Mack’s voice, he jumps back out of hiding, speaking more high pitched than usual. ‘Mack?! What are you doing here with…I mean dammit man you’ve changed. I know we go a long way back but Upstarts were never meant to turn out like this. XTC had us pegged for a group of homosexuals but I never would of thought they were right!’ ‘Chill your horses, bro. I’m not gay, hell I couldn’t be more straight if I was Hugh Hefner himself!' Mack now steps inside of the front room as he points towards the transvestite, who is now groping Stephen on the couch. ‘This is just my housekeeper. In fact you may know her Jesse, she is a relation to Alanso Fyne.’ The man-woman now looks over at Jesse, licking her lips as she speaks. ‘That’s right handsome, I’m Alanso’s sister, Mayoso.’ Jesse chuckles, almost choking as he shakes his head disappointingly. ‘Mayoso Fyne? You couldn’t even of wrote that in the script!’ Mack pats Montana on the shoulder which makes him flinch in an awkward way. ‘Yes, and it looks like your little assistant here Jesse, is getting attached to Mayoso, just an observation, bro.’ Montana walks up to Stephen, who is now pretty much frozen with fright, being straddled by the no so luscious Mayoso. ‘BUTTER!! Will you please stop making us look like some ort of closet puffs, I have a reputation to keep!’ Mack places his hand on Jesse’s shoulder once more, now with a huge grin on his face. ‘Actually bro, if I remember correctly, you’ve been with a man before. Remember, Jessica?’ Mayoso now stands up in frustration, looking at Mack and Jesse. ‘What are you all talking about, I’m a lady!’ Mayoso now pulls up her skirt as a loud whirl of wind passes by the window on the outside. Montana stands still as Mack tries to shield his eyes, much to the fun of Mayoso. ‘Holy shit I think I just tasted last night’s meat roast.’ ‘Mayoso will give you a meat roas…’ Montana now steps back from the situation, now standing at the door frame again, the tone in his voice now more assertive. ‘OKAY…look Mack, I know it’s been a long time, and clearly we’ve all changed during the past year, but I’m here for business, nothing else. Got it?’ ‘Hey no worries bro, I’m just ribbing ya. Why don’t we go in the other room to conduct some business, while your friend Stephen here conducts some pleasure.’ Mack walks out of the room as he closes the door on his way out, both Montana and Beaudin leaving Stephen alone with Mayoso. She now sits back down on Stephen as though she was giving him a lap dance, as he groans in pain. ‘Oh baby Stephen, I will give you all the pleasure you want. Last time I pleasured a guy, he turned purple and had a penal thrombosis, poor guy was never the same again!’ ‘J…J…Jesse, please don’t leav…’ ‘Don’t worry sugar plum, I’ll make you feel welcome. Now…speaking of penal thrombosis…’ 'JESSSSSEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!’ As the camera switches to the other room, Stephen’s screams are just echoes that fade into nothingness, as Montana and Mack just smile. Mack sits down on a chair, sitting beside a table resembling a bar, in his dining room. So Jesse, why have you come here bro? I mean your not exactly suited to these parts… Montana sits down opposite him, leaning over the table staring into Mack’s eyes. I’ve been wanting to ask you about that. Your Mack Beaudin…a former Upstart…former CZW Intercontinental Champion…what are you living like this for? What is a man like you living in squalor for? Mack shakes his head in frustration, as he begins to pour himself a drink from the open bottle of Jack Daniels. Jesse it’s been a long time since the days of you and I in the Upstarts. Times have changed, I leant that the day I found out you were behind my injury. After my Wrestling career was ended by your savage Karl Jackson, money…things…they just haven’t gone my way. You know Jesse, I’ve never really forgave you for what you did. We had it all, we owned CZW like no other, we were like brothers, man. And you went and stabbed me in the back… Montana stands up off his chair, now circling the table like a predatory shark looking for food. Mack now taking a large sip of JD trying to cool his temper. Look spare me the deep hearted speech, you can preach to me another time, I’m a busy man. But your right, we were the best CZW had ever seen and that will never change, that is set in stone and written in the history books. However, times have changed Mack, your now a bum living in the gutters of Tampa, and I’m the new CZW President, with billions in the bank. Mack slams his glass down which makes Montana jump. Why you have to come all this way to rub my nose in it Jesse, I may have had my wrestling career ended, but I sure as hell still know how to fight. Jesse now sits back down, as Mack finishes his glass of Jack Daniels. Montana picks it up and places it on the side where the sink sits, as he leans forward once more, talking deeply to Mack. Calm it Mack, we both know your too intrigued by my arrival to do anything stupid. The fact is, CZW needs all the help it can get. We have just seen what was the biggest event the company has ever had. It was watched worldwide, and CZW is back on the road to success. But what we need is the spots of the old times, we need to see old faces, we need to shock the world one more time ever single show. It’s hard being the best in the World, Mack, but we know all about that. And what makes you think I’d help a punk like you. My life was ruined the day you turned your back on me. And I can make it up to you. I can see your in some kind of financial disaster, not something a man like me could ever remember being in. Yes times are pretty good for the old Sensation over here… Mack stands up as his chair nearly topples over, Mack running his hand through his very short hair, his eyes wide open, his breath getting heavier. Look I can’t listen to your ego growing even more, just get to the point. I can offer you 30 million dollars. In cash. As Montana says that in a robotic way, Mack stops walking and sits back down, his hands shaking. W…W…What t…t…What the hell for Jesse? What’s a matter? You don’t want my money. Look, 30 million dollars, it’s nothing to me, I funded plenty more into the company a few months ago when I saw it was dying right in front of my eyes. Getting this company to the top is my passion, and getting my name on the highest plaque is what I crave. I have a match this week, Mack. The board of directors made me book it, which really pisses me off as it’s my first week in charge as President. But if I play along with them this week, I have a lifetime of being in charge, CZW will never die. They want me and Shawn to team up like we did all those months ago. Were undefeated, and were going into this match as Team Upstarts. But you hate Shawn, and he sure as hell hates you, bro. You couldn’t be more right, we despise each other, but we have mutual respect. I’ll get to the point Mack. For just one appearance, helping me out this week, and ending the show only the Upstarts know how, wit pure dominance. If you do what I say this week, you won’t have to work another day in your life, again. Mack places his head to the side, rolling eyes at Jesse who remains calm and focused, not moving form his seat. There has to be a catch. No catch, just money for you, success for me. Can you imagine how crazy those brain-dead fa**ots will get over seeing you in the ring again, it’s what blockbusters are made of. And you know better than anyone, I like to win. And your opponents? Buck and Nasty, two hard hitting guys who love a fight. These guys may stand over us like giants, but you can’t exchange intelligence for muscle. Mack jumps in as Montana sits back and relaxes in his chair, about to go on one of his rants. Nasty isn’t as stupid as he may look, Jesse, I have fought him before and we all know what happened there. Mack the whole reason I turned on you last year was because you had lost it, man. The old Mack would have never lost his Title to a nobody, and Nasty was that no body back then. You launched his career, he has you to thank for that. It even seems like you trade housekeepers as well as history, you may be in the Nasty fan club, but I can see straight through him. His comeback this week will end in shambles for the big man. He fears the spotlight, the main stage. He was on the roll of his life back when he won the Money in the Bank award, a man destined for greatness? I don’t think so, he bailed out that day and showed himself for what he truly is, a coward, and a loser. Not only losing his one chance at the World Title, he lost himself a chance at becoming a Two Time IC Champ, this is the man you lost to? Mack you know deep down you had lost the ball the day you were defeated by Nasty. You knew you had more in your future than him, you had the looks, the talent and the charisma, and you let all that flush down the toilet for a near seven foot clown. Him and Buck have so much in common, but what makes me fear them the least is their predictability. They will want to come out and put on a fight for the fans, make their big come back a moment to remember, but I bet their not even smart enough to pick up on the fact, their the only team in this match who are on speaking terms. Buck tried to pretend he put on his lingo for the fans and for CZW, he just can’t accept the fact he is a redneck with no brains, and no class. The people who make it in this world are the marketable characters, like myself. I could be on the front cover even on my bad day, and people would want to find a quiet room and pleasure themselves. Take a look at Buck and Nasty, you try and pleasure yourselves over them, and your in for one bad experience, hell even Mayoso in their would need a truck load of viagra to get hard over those mutants. As Montana stops talking, he now picks up the bottle of Jack Daniels and pours himself a half glass. Mack watches as he places it back down on the table, thoughts running through his mind. Montana now breaks the silence as he looks over at the door, which leads to the front room. Speaking of Mayoso, what in the hell are those groaning noises I can hear. I want my assistant back in one piece if that is okay. Mack smirks, now becoming more relaxed as he sits back. Don’t worry, Jesse, Mayoso knows how to take care of shy men. Now carry on, any other opponents? Montana takes a swig of whisky, then looks Mack in the eyes. Two more, Covey and Fiscus. Holy shit bro, I heard about Fiscus and him winning the CZW World Title. Tell him congrats from Mack when you see him, bro. Suddenly Jesse downs his glass of JD and stands up, launching the chair he sat on across the room. Mack stands up now completely shocked by Jesse’s outburst. Mack grabs the glass from Montana as he holds his fist up, threatening him. Hey look man, keep your hands off my furniture, it may not cost much to you but… Montana swipes the glass from his hand as it smashes across the nearest cabinet. Jesse now stands inches away form Mack as he glares into his eyes, almost growling in fury. Forget it. Your not Mack Beaudin. You’re a shell of that man, you’re a joke. And to think I put my faith in you. As Montana is about to leave, Mack sits back down, speaking in an apologetic voice. Just sit back down Jesse, I have your back on this one. All I was saying is I heard how Fiscus won that belt, cashing in after the chamber match… Montana walks back over to the table, now leaning on it as he looks into the air, beginning another one of his rants. I will congratulate him Mack, in my own special way. He likes to think he’s the savior to grace the company I brought back from the brink of extinction. He likes to talk about how I apparently hog the spotlight and ride on the back of his success. That man is a delusional maniac. He thinks because he’s made this come back, everyone must bow down at his feet and welcome him home. He has tried to steal my resurrection of CZW by polluting it with his own name, actually believing CZW’s revival is anything to do with his come back. He seems to be forgetting their was one other man who left at the same time he did. He seems to be forgetting how CZW’s booking and card line ups pretty much was made by a limp dick. Lets see, Ronnie McNeil against Cage Stryker for the World Heavyweight Title at the biggest show CZW has to offer. No wonder the company went nearly bankrupt. It was my money, Mack, that was pumped into this company, into this project, it was my input. I rang the superstars, I sent them emails, I didn’t stop until I got a response from every old face we ever saw in the Combat Zone. But no just because he is too imbecilic to even imagine what goes on in the background, backstage, he has to believe in his own hype and proclaim to be the sole hero once again. People are growing tired of his bullshit, Mack, and that is exactly why Matt Covey wants to punch his face in. Yeah man, I know Matt and Alan have history, they pretty much want to rip each other apart from what I heard. Makes you smile, don’t it. Alan believes I set this match up for some dastardly scheme to have himself and Covey beat the snot out of each other, while I swoop in and pick up the victory. Come to think of it, it does seem like something I would do…remind me to thank the BoD next time I see them. Fact of the matter is, Covey and Fiscus can’t work together. I broke them up once before, I set up the most creative plan to ever hit the wrestling industry, and Fiscus was just a pawn in my overall dream. He had to whine like a baby for months on end, almost falling into depression and eventually leaving the company, going on some kind of hiatus, probably some rehab somewhere in the middle of no where, sharing his life story and tribulations with a bunch of washed up druggies the world has to boast. I have to admit, the Fiscus I see now is much like the one I fought all those months ago, and I applaud him for that, there was only so long he could mope around with his bottom lip looking like a man who had his bits chopped off. Thank god he’s not that depressive piece of shit any more. But now I’m not even sure he is something worse, a creation even the God Amongst Men can not withstand. There’s only one thing worse than a man with an ego the size of mine, and that’s one with an ego the size of Alan’s. Well done, he has won his very first CZW World Title, took you how long? How many more hiatus’s and cries of insanity will it take before your next. I speak in the long terms because now CZW is back on track, with the best talent around, it’s only a matter of time before Fiscus gets too cocky and loses what he has craved since his birth in CZW. Cage Stryker, possibly the most incredulous reign any company has ever seen, breaking my Earth shattering record by only defeating the shmucks that Brian could find, makes me sick. I have to admit, Alan gives that Title a little more class than that Hollywood flop could ever of done. But this week his ego will blind him, his rivalry with his former best friend will blind him, his whole paranoia will blind him from what is right under his nose, a birth of such a destructive force, God himself will be bricking it. And it all started last week… I guess your referring to Derek Damage? What are you hanging around with that old fool for? He’s the founder of the Company, and my only real enemy who could have retired me. The Damage family took charge back when CZW had some credit, and now I’m back on the scene, CZW will become a global phenomenon, never witnessed before. How genius of me, to have bought out the very founder of this company, and turned him against his own son. With his backing, and my fire…we can only go to the top. People see him as an old fart, a joke, he is a lot more influential as people may think. Hix is behind me, and a few others who will come out of the pipeline in due time, however, the Reign of Montana is well and truly…the Future of CZW! And you want me to help you get there. Montana stands up straight, now smiling at Mack as he walks over towards the door. Got it in one. And seriously Mack, it’s actually getting hard for me to talk to you here with that racket next door, what is Mayoso doing to that poor weird Aussie of mine? Mack stands off his chair as he opens the door for Montana to walk through, the sounds getting louder as the door opens. I guess we better had take a look, you heard what happened to a former acquaintance of his. Both Mack and Jesse walks through the corridor leading to the front room. As Mack places his hand on the handle, there is a moment of silence where he stops, measuring up whether he wants to walk in n Mayoso. He looks at Jesse who is now pale in the face, but nods at Mack to signal. Mack opens the door as both men walk through… HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Montana screams out at the top of his lungs as Stephen is wearing a dress, make up all over his body, and Mayoso is completely butt naked with a 12 inch glow in the dark dildo about to be stuffed up the back side of Butler. Suddenly Mayoso stands up, distracted as Stephen runs out holding his ass, looking like he has been raped, tears down his cheeks. Montana now walks off towards the front door, shocked and sickened, Mayoso sitting back down on the couch a smile on her face with another cigarette in hand. Mack stops Montana as he walks through the door way, now saying one more thing. Jesse, just one last thing. I appreciate your offer, but many months ago, I realized that, money, fame, the spotlight, it’s never really going to make me happy. The only thing that made me happy was wrestling, and there isn’t any amount of money you can bribe me with that can change that, bro. It’s over between you and us, Upstarts are over. I hope you do well with the brand new CZW, but it‘s no place for me anymore. Later, Jesse. Montana nods his head, a look of anger in his eyes as he steps away. I understand. Good luck in the future, Mack. Montana now shouts over to Butler who is sitting crying near the limo, as the young teenagers crowd around him laughing and pointing, even spitting at him. Montana walks over as the kids desert the area. Come on Butter…if you can walk that is. Montana looks back at the house, then picks up his cell phone, a look of evil in his eyes as he begins to speak. ‘Yes, it’s Mr. Montana, I want you to go ahead with orders. He let me down again.’ Montana places the phone back in his pocket as he signals a farewell towards Mack before stepping into his limo. Suddenly Montana stumbles as his eyes go glazed over again, just like they were at the start of the scene. --- Drip…Drip…Drip The man stares into the cold blue eyes of his captor. Suddenly the evil killer smiles in delight, mumbling something as he stands up, swiping the chain as the man drops to the floor crashing down on his head. The room begins to swirl, as the man fades in and out of consciousness, but before the scene ends, the killer bends down again, as we see him in full face…as the killer now crushing the head of the man ending his life… --- Montana stands up straight, a look of terror in his eyes as he whispers to himself ending the scene… Karl?! |
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12:52 AM Jul 11