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A Miserable Nightmare; vs Cactus Jack Bronson
Topic Started: May 15 2018, 10:26 PM (25 Views)
Larkyn
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"Misery is wasted on the miserable" -Louie CK

It is a late night in Japan. Our scene opens in a park. A swing set is illuminated by the tall sidewalk lamps. This swing set is home for one individual who sits on the middle seat, slowly pushing the seat back with his shoes in the sand. He wears a black beanie on his head, a leather jacket covers a t-shirt, and a flannel shirt is tied around the waist of his khaki pants. This is "Miserable" Larkyn Matthew, looking deep in thought as he finally speaks.

"Misery is wasted on the miserable. I want everyone to be as dead as I am inside."

Larkyn pulls a water bottle out of his messenger bag.

"Even this dead plant needs watering."

He takes a swig from the bottle, screws the cap back on, and drops it back in his bag.

"My name is Larkyn Matthew, and I'm Miserable as fuck. On May 22nd, in Ryogoku Kokugikan in Tokyo, Japan, I make my in-ring debut for Death Trip Wrestling. Tokyo Gore Noir 8: Carnage Carnival, Night 12. Myself and Cactus Jack Bronson meet for the first time ever. And our match is one I've never heard of in my life. A Medical Nightmare Match? I'm intrigued. I can think of a variety of medical nightmare scenarios, so I do hope the ring has various hospital objects around. Scalpel. Sponge. Suction Tips. Hey, maybe a stretcher? Might as well. It'll have to be present for the post-match, anyway. So, a medical nightmare...like a needle getting lodged in your side? You know, like, that real sensitive spot? Ooh, and watch out for the blades. It'd suck if one of those got lost during surgery and ended up ripping apart your anus."

He grunts in disgust. The wind picks up and mixes well with the honking of car horns from the nearby road.

"If a nursing student had to confront the body of someone who looked like how I'm going to make you look, she would quit that course immediately."

Larkyn smirks and lowers his head a moment.

"That's pretty bad."

He quickly lifts his head and madly looks into the camera.

"And that's how it should be! It's going to be real, real bad. I want you to feel like me, Bronson. But that's impossible. Isn't it? Is it?! I guess we'll have to wait and see. My life may be a short one, but it's been one of the most difficult lives I've ever lived...but I still keep hanging on. My parents gave me away. My friends turned their backs. My father denied me to be the one thing I always wanted to be. My brother betrayed me. Things haven't been the best ever for me. And now, in Death Trip Wrestling, the world finds out who Larkyn Matthew truly is...and Larkyn Matthew finds out who Larkyn Matthew is..."

A bit of an insightful look into Larkyn's troubled life leads to some introspective searching from Larkyn himself. He pauses. Larkyn reaches down and pulls up his messenger bag, and pulls out his iPhone. After a moment of toying with the phone, he smiles and continues to speak.

"Cactus Jack Bronson tweeted -quote- Goodnight little baby. Hashtag Dirt Nap-end quote- after our match was announced. Okay, ugly. Improvise with me, here. You want to cause me pain, and I want you look into my green eyes as you drift away from the blood loss following our Medical Nightmares Match. Summer is going to be long and pitiful for you as you are stuck in a hospital bed attempting to recover and get all of your general faculties back in your own control. A nightmare is defined as a frightening or distressing dream that usually awakens the sleeper. We can have some out of this world, horrible, scary dreams. But Jack Bronson, this is one nightmare that isn't a dream. And the only escape is your final destination. So forget your trademark.. the only one taking a dirt nap is you..."

Larkyn leaves the swing and stands up, kicking up sand. He grabs on to the side of the swing set and glides around it one time. Walking up to the sidewalk, Larkyn's body goes completely dark, and back to being lit up by the lamps. He places both hands in his pockets and walks down the sidewalk, looking into the camera.

"Cactus Jack Bronson, I want to hurt you so bad. I want to hurt you so bad that our Medical Nightmare turns into an Excrement Nightmare for you when you shit yourself uncontrollably from the infection and damage caused and inflicted from yours truly in my debut match with Death Trip Wrestling. Joe Stanton beat your ass, showing why he is the FnX...oh nevermind."

Sarcastic gasp. Larkyn cups his hand over his mouth and mumbles something inaudible. He lowers his hand.

"But Cack', this is a huge match for me. It's my very first of the rest of my career. I'm calling this my real debut in professional wrestling. So, you better believe that I'll go all out to show the world what I'm capable of right out the shoot. And then - bang - lights out, a Larkyn victory. You'll be ruined and you'll be trapped in a medical nightmare. I hope that I put you in the hospital and just as you're starting to fall asleep, that stupid machine starts beeping uncontrollably and forces you to stay awake just long enough for the pain medication to stop working and you have to wait six more hours to get any sort of relief. So you lay there, unable to sleep, in so much pain, and you'll be oh so miserable. That is when you'll think of me and what I put you through in the ring. But it doesn't stop in the ring. The pain will continue, and seem like you can never, ever get rid of it. That's cause you can't. It's forever. You'll be miserable just like me for the remainder of your pitiful, disgusting, shitty life."

He cups his hands together, nodding his head, as he walks past the camera. For a brief moment, though, he completely turns around. While walking backwards, he speaks.

"Goodbye, for now. The Miserable Nightmare must bid you farewell. I'll see you when I'm feeling more eloquent."

He gives the two-finger peace sign and smirks before spinning back around and making his way toward the park exit gate as the scene fades to black.




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