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Driving Misanthrope; or A Scattering of Ashes
Topic Started: Aug 30 2010, 08:52 AM (157 Views)
Alan Fiscus
Member Avatar
Sadistic Solution
[ * ]
"Men ought either to be indulged or utterly destroyed, for if you merely offend them they take vengeance, but if you injure them greatly they are unable to retaliate, so that the injury done to a man ought to be such that vengeance cannot be feared." - Niccolo Machiavelli

-\| The scene fades in on a long driveway, leading to a house that the CZW universe has seen before. A house that belongs to none other than "The Sadistic Solution" Alan Fiscus. For the first time... the FORMER CZW World Heavyweight champion. A black limo pulls into the driveway, and heads towards the house. The shot changes to right in front of the house now, showing the mass of the building. Standing in front of the house, are Alan Fiscus himself and his mistress, Hellena. As the limo pulls closer, you notice Alan has a golden urn in his possession. He is wearing a leather jacket and black pants, while Hellena also wears a leather jacket and black pants. Both jackets are zipped up, not revealing the garments underneath. For the end of August, Wichita has seen some unexpected colder weather. The wind blows their hair to their right, along with the shubbery and trees in the large yard. The limo pulls up next to them, and stops. The driver gets out, an older black man who at first guess you would think was around fifty, and opens the back door for Alan and Hellena. |\-

Driver
"Good morning, sir."

Alan, as he ducks to enter the vehicle
"Yeah."

-\| The driver doesn't seem the least put off by Alan's attitude, having apparently driven for him before. He is wearing a burgundy business suit, giving you the impression its the standard uniform for the company he works for. The driver just smiles to himself as he shuts the door, and re-enters the driver's seat. They begin driving to the exit from Alan's estate. As they pull out onto the road, heading west, the driver asks a question. |\-

Driver
"We are heading to Lake Afton, north side, correct?"

Alan
"Correct."

Driver
"I heard about what happened. What a shame it is that it had to come to that."

Alan, annoyed, but somewhat respectful
"Right, listen James, I'm not really in the talking mood. I know you're all about people and all that, we've talked before your oh so pleasant outlook on life before. I have no beef with you, you're a good man. But not right now. I don't want to communicate to anyone but those who have besmirched me. Those who have disrespected me."

-\| James has seen Alan in this mood before, and simply nods. He smiles still, as he continues on the road. Hellena comforts Alan by gently rubbing his hand that is held in hers. He appreciates the gesture, but is lost in thought and doesn't offer the affection back. He feels estranged by all the empty human connections that people make. He feels too jaded to see genuine feeling, to see genuine emotion anymore. In his mind, any time that someone offers condolences or shows respect, there's always an ulterior motive. He watches as they drive by the very familiar sites of Wichita, the city where he grew up in. They are headed to the lake that Owen Castle, his deceased trainer and father figure, used to love to go fishing at every time he was in town. They drive by a sign telling drivers that the Sedgwick County Zoo is in two exits. Alan smirks to himself, remembering times spent there as a child. Lost in thought, he falls into a trance, looking out the window but not really seeing anything. Everything is a haze in this state of mind. He breaks out of it, however, when he notices a sign for Lake Afton. He looks down at his watch and is astonished that twenty minutes had gone by since the time they saw the sign for the Zoo. He shakes his head a little and rubs his eyes, noticing Hellena had fallen asleep on his right shoulder. She has had a few rough nights since Hatewave in her own right, with a huge headache from the headbutt Godzilla Sawyer had delivered to her during the four way Riot match. Alan gently rubs her forehead, where make up does its best to cover the bruise. James pulls up on the north side of the lake, and the place is deserted. Alan knew it would be at this time, which is why he requested a limo on a early morning of the week when most fishermen are at their day jobs. James parks and gets out of the limo, opening Alan's door. Hellena is stirred awake, and she makes sure she did not drool. They exit the limo, Alan nodding to James. Alan and Hellena begin walking to the lake itself as James gets back in the limo, waiting for their return. They walk down a small path, to the mouth of the lake. Alan looks around at the scenery, while Hellena looks like she's recovering from a hangover with the pain she is in. Alan takes off the top of the urn and looks in it. |\-

Alan
"Well, Owen, I never thought this was how I would last see you. When we had your funeral in Chicago, and buried you in front of your friends and family, that was supposed to be your homage. You were put in the ground, as you requested, and all was well as it could be. But that all changed. That all changed when a mad man desperately sought out a way to out maneuver me. A man so hell bent, that he resorted to no stops. I'm grateful that your daughter gave me permission to do what I saw fit with your ashes, after he dug up your grave and burned you with a smile on his face. I know you were not from here, but this was your favorite place while visiting... and quite frankly, I want all of the remains of the very few people I ever cared about to be near my home. I vow to you, Owen. I vow to you, that this wrong will be re-righted. I vow to take revenge for your desecration. I vow to fulfill the justice you so deserve. I WILL have vengeance. That sick bastard will pay for what he's done to you. I promise."

-\| With that, Alan slowly turns the urn to its side as the ashes blow out and into the lake. Hellena takes a moment and caresses her hand on Alan's shoulder before beginning to head back to the limo. Alan motions that he'll be after her in a few moments, and she nods. As she walks back to the limo, Alan looks out onto the lake and the ashes that are already beginning to blend with the nature scene. |\-

Alan
"Such an empty human gesture, as most of them are. This isn't really for Owen, this is for me. Owen is dead. He's not in some heaven, up in the clouds looking down on me, he is dead. He is not writhing in pain in some fire infested hell... he is simply dead. There's a reason it is called death. It is the end. The finish line. There is no eternity, there is no forever. And I'm damn grateful for it. Owen is at peace, and I envy him for it. I look forward to my own death, actually. I long for my own peace, which I knew long ago would never come until I expired. Where so many humans pray to their God to be allowed in some magical fortress of happiness, I know better. Where so many crave that eternity, and are so arrogantly convinced we are more than animals, and we have souls... I know better. I see their arrogance, and I see their ignorance. So painfully laid out for all to see. Where you have one delusional person, that person is labeled a lunatic. Where you have a MASS of delusional people... well, that's called RELIGION. Simple creatures, simple egotistical creatures. Like we mean anything in the big picture. We are not the warriors in the battle of the universe, we are the cockroaches at their feet. I long for death to finally be away from this place. To no longer have to worry about following the codes of society, of meaningless rituals such as this. To escape this wretched cage, and to finally be free in non-existence. My ceasing is my closure."

-\| Alan turns to the camera, and removes his sunglasses as the sun slowly fades with dusk. |\-

Alan
"But I'm not dead yet. My death is a long time from now. In the mean time, I will do what I do best. I will inflict pain. I will beat as many humans into oblivion as I can. I look like you, I act like you, I'm imprisoned in the same mortal cell as you all are... but I am not one of you. I am a stranger. I knew at a very early age I was different than all the rest, and not the same way EVERY human thinks they are different... but truthfully, and entirely. I've molded that consciousness, I've taught myself how to evolve even further. It's turned me into a vicious, calculating, violent machine. Exactly my goal. It's turned me into a merciless, heartless beast. Precisely my purpose. All parts of the plan to be the BEST ever. And I am. Where many say I once was, I say I STILL am. I may no longer be the champion of YOUR world, but I didn't lose that title at my own defeat. I may no longer hold that precious strap of gold, but as I see it, I am STILL the champion. Until my shoulders are pinned to the mat or I am made to submit _I AM THE GOD DAMN CHAMPION!_"

-\| Alan screams into the camera, spit hitting the lens. He sharply turns from the camera, and begins walking by the mouth of the lake, away from where the limo is. Alan unzips his leather jacket to reveal a black "Sid & Nancy" t-shirt and as he walks, he continues. |\-

Alan
"At Hatewave III, in Owen's hometown of Chicago, many.. most say that it was the greatest show the company has ever put on. Every match epic, every style represented in excellent portrayal. For many, it was their wildest dreams come true. Not mine. For many wrestlers, they will look back on that night and call it the highlight of their career. I won't. All three members of Wrestling's Greatest Family went into Hatewave with great momentum, but even though our cousin Garrett was victorious in his feud with the Mountain Man, my brother Sam and I were ROBBED. We were champions walking in, and we should have been champions walking out. First, that little pink rodent screwed Sam out of the CZW X-Division title in what HAS to be the luckiest win of his life. Then... and then, I lost more than just the CZW World Heavyweight title in the first ever four way Riot match... I also lost my winning in streak in said match. Where many celebrated with triumph that night, I disappeared in anguish. The arena full with empty cheers, the arena full of empty people chanting for the man they've been brainwashed to adore. That son of a bitch, Mortius. I had the match in the palm of my hand as I put that piece of trash Sawyer down for the lateral press out on the floor. It was all going my way. All until a mistake from the past caught up with me. Frank Finch made one last appearance on a CZW show, and he made it solely to FUCK WITH FISCUS. And fuck with me, he did. He cost me my title. He cost me my streak. And he knew what he was doing the whole time. I taught that bastard well, I must admit. Go for the heart. And my heart was that title. Where, if I had one, my soul would lie. The thing is, I don't want revenge on Frank. I don't blame him. In fact, he done me proud. Our association is clearly ended, and for good. But by him costing me my title, that tells me it wasn't all for naught. There WAS something in that blonde headed pretty boy. I wasn't wrong. Now we're even, Frank. I bid you well on the rest of your life, and may its path never cross mine again."

-\| Fiscus pauses a moment, signifying a change of subject. |\-

Alan
"But that wasn't the end of the evening was it? My reign coming to a blasphemous end, Mortius in all his disgrace holding my title up in the air... no, that wasn't enough. Then came the big surprise. Then came what all the whispers in the back were about. Mr. Derek Damage himself came out and got some spotlight. He came out to unveil his new Damage Control plan or whatever the hell it is. Spring cleaning in the fall is what it is. I'm alright with that, I hate most of these idiots in the company as it is. But where Derek should have automatically gave me a rematch for the title that I didn't lose in the first place, I am not even made the number one contender. Complete disrespect. Even more so, when he books the first match of this little game of his. Not only do I have to fight become #1 contender, I have to fight FOR MY JOB. What a difference a day fuckin' makes, eh? One day I am the king of the mountain... the next, I am the trash at the curb."

-\| As Alan continues to walk and talk, his anger grows more and more. |\-

Alan
"What a damn joke. What a horrible injustice. I SHOULD STILL BE CZW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION. Where is my respect for being the best champion this company has EVER seen? Where is the respect for all the hours I've put into this company, performing and in the back? Ah, but that's where it is. It's not a very well kept secret that Eddie Rowan and I have some power backstage. Or, as Derek puts it, had power until he resumed control. He blames us for the fact that CZW nearly died. Where he briefly mentions the GOOD things we've done, which far out shadow the bad, he focuses on just that. The bad. We almost ruined his precious company that he basically abandoned in the first place. Just another hypocrite. Derek, you disappoint me. I'm all for trimming the fat, but I shouldn't be involved in this. You know what an asset I am, I don't understand this bullshit. Is it because you feel threatened by what we've done? Is this jealousy? Because we run your company better than YOU!? I don't want that backstage power, and it never played a part in my career. I never used that as leverage, I EARNED everything I got. You know this. Everyone knows this. You can have your political power. All I want is the gold. MY gold. And instead of giving me my rightful re-match... I face Rowan in CZW's first show back in Australia. My backstage 'partner.'"

-\| Fiscus pauses a moment, continuing to walk. |\-

Alan
"Eddie, let me tell you something. You and I, we have quite a history between us. From the best of friends, to the worst of enemies. This is a shoot. I have had a thousand matches in my life, but the 3 Levels of Pain match we had last year at Summer Showdown has to be the best match of my career so far. Believe me, I've had a LOT of five star matches. I've had a lot of completely over feuds. But you and I, we have something special. I've always wondered about the next chance I'd have to face you in the ring. I always planned on giving you a World title shot at some point. But from the looks of it, that's not going to happen. No, because I WILL be CZW World Heavyweight champion again... oh believe me. But you... you won't be around to see it. You see, you're a great great wrestler. I'll give you that credit. But you don't have what it takes to be 100% over, baby. You just don't. You are not main event material. You don't have the make up to play with the big guns. You know this, I know this, everyone knows this. So this is going to be a monumental match. It will be epic, just like our last match. It will END, just like our last match. Me on top. You lose, I win. You will perfectly compliment me on my way to regaining my title. Don't worry too much, Eddie. There's plenty of independent work out there. Hell, maybe you could actually gain a "World" title in one of those bingo halls, you never know. Life will good for you, and it's a shame you have to lose your job... but that's how the decks have been stacked. You've never had that fire that is required of champions. You've never had that drive that you MUST have to succeed. Not in the major leagues. Not where it matters the most. Learn to accept it, and swallow your pride, Rowan. You are but a temporary roadblock on my path to Horrorcore. You are but a work out match as I make my way back to my throne. A sacrificial lamb, gift wrapped specifically by the man himself, Derek Damage. We will have the match of the night, no doubt. We will put on a clinic. But it will be your last night as a CZW employee, I guarantee you this. I will do WHATEVER it takes to get at Mortius. Oh, that bastard."

-\| Fiscus stops, and faces the camera once again. |\-

Alan
"Mortius, you think you're so damned clever. You think you got into my head, and won the title because of it, don't you? You are a pathetic son of a bitch. Maynard O'Toole should not have even come down the ramp in the first place with the way he was feeling. He came out, anyway, like a foolish stubborn moron and lost my title for me. Thank you, Maynard. Another receipt is due. But that is for the future. Mortius, you have a new number one fan. ME. I will be YOUR shadow now, son. You have the only thing that means a damn to me in this pathetic hell called life. You stole it from me. I WILL take it back, and at Horrorcore. In the main event. I will have you all to myself. I will have you RIGHT... where I want you. I am going to prove to you that your title reign is a fluke. I am going to prove to you that your main event status is a flash in the pan. You deserve a HELL of a lot worse for what you've done, Mortius. You disrespected my trainer's memory. You desecrated his grave, and exhumed his remains... burning them to ash. All to get into my head, and under my skin. And you think it worked. It did not give you the title, oh no. Your games did not win you the match. LUCK won you the match. LUCK got you your very first singles title in the CZW. Luck that has ran right the fuck out. You will be MINE, and you very well know it. It's only a matter of time. You do NOT frighten me, you are NOT in my head.... you are in my SIGHTS. I am zeroed in. After I manhandle Rowan in Sydney, I will be on your ass quicker than Alanso Fyne. Count the days. Count the minutes. And cherish them."

-\| Fiscus begins walking again, this time back towards the limo. |\-

Alan
"Mortius can burn the corpses of all my dead loved ones, and it won't tarnish my memory of them. It will only seal his fate even further, if that's even possible. He is a dead man walking. Literally. Rowan is in the wrong place at the wrong time, because my main beef is not with him. It's just how the dice rolls. It's how Derek thinks he's taking back charge of the company I never wanted to help run in the first place. I am here to wrestle, not wear a damn tie. I am here to be in the spotlight, not here to sit behind a desk. To all of those who hope and pray that come Sydney, they will see the last of Alan Fiscus on CZW programming... keep praying. Keep hoping, and keep dreaming. Because that shit isn't going to happen. My reign as champion isn't over, it's only... temporarily suspended. I WILL have that gold around my waist again, make NO mistake about it. NO mistake."

-\| The camera suddenly stops moving along with Alan, as he makes his way to the arms of Hellena who had just gotten back out of the limo to greet him. James holds the door open, with the same smile on his face. If only it were easy to find the happiness that he has. Both enter the limo, and he shuts the door. As he makes his way back to the driver's door, the scene fades to black. |\-
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