Post by THE MANLIEST MAN ON THE PLANET on Oct 21, 2013 7:32:30 GMT -6
“I've begun to look at the world through apocalypse eyes. Our society, which seems so sturdily built out of concrete and custom, is just a temporary resting place, a hotel our civilization checked into a couple hundred years ago and must one day check out of.”
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Many Moons Ago…
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The scene cuts backstage in the Dean Smith Center. The camera moves through a spiralling magnolia hallway, the walls littered with promotional framed posters for GDW’s upcoming pay per view, Desperate Measures. The cameraman picks up the sight of a welcome figure, clad in his trademark smart business suit. He carries a clipboard in his hand, obviously showing a rundown of the event as the man with the shaven head turns towards a doorway. He looks at the door, pulls out a small brass key from his blazer pocket and opens the door. Once he walks through the door, it closes tightly behind him as the camera zooms in on the sign on the door.
It reads: Office of Dan Herrera.
The view switches to within the office. Herrera turns around and a look of shock and horror is painted upon his face.
Herrera: “What the h—“
The office is wrecked. Filling cabinets are overturned; papers are littered all over the floor. Several drawers have been seemingly smashed to pieces, possibly with a weapon, possibly by bare hands. The mahogany desk itself is also covered in several piles of documents, though these seem more organised and intentional. The far window on the eastern side of the room is wide open, a faint breeze gently blowing a few of the loose papers up in the air, shrouding the chair behind the desk in a sea of white. There was a figure sat there, back turned to the doorway. There is a sudden flash of lightning and a crash of thunder in the night time sky as rain patters down upon the window.
Herrera: “Whose there? You do know this is my office. Security or worse is simply a click away.”
The figure sits in silence for a moment or two, the high backed leather seat obscuring the view of who it could be. But the silence is interrupted by a slow, methodical yet deep voice that seems to echo around the room.
Voice: “It is so very interesting to discover what secrets have been hidden here. So much that was kept away from those who should have been informed. So many lies told to mask true intent… Fascinating, don’t you think Daniel?”
Herrera: “You have thirty seconds to explain yourself before I call security…”
Voice: “I feel that the explaining that must occur… Should be from you… Not I…”
A gust of bluey grey smoke rises from behind the leather seat, thick ringlets shortly follow, effortlessly rising towards the fan on the ceiling which then blows them away into nothingness.
Voice: “The Elite, The Regime, Matt and Jennifer Alan, Mike Michaels, Jason Redfield… All names of those who would have died to find such information, to hold such secrets within their grasp. They were so eager to take control, to get their hands on truths like these… For months or even years they would fight for information such as this… To manipulate, to control, to destroy…But like badly written Bond villains, they placed all their cards on the table. They told the known world what their intensions were from the very start. It allowed forces time to prepare against them, enabled the rallying cry to echo in the night sky and those that heeded it’s call came forth to defend their home… One man always seemed to be the first to be summoned… And he did so without question…”
Dan remains silent as he listens in. He seems to be scouting around the room, surveying the damage that has been caused and trying to figure out whether this person, obviously male, is a threat or not.
Voice: “He never asked for any reward, he never asked for any prize and yet he never received any gratitude for his actions. It was almost expected from him… And yet he found Brutus’ dagger impaled into his back as a thank you. Part of me thinks that maybe The Elite did have some good qualities after all… Their methods and vision was wrong, yes… But at least they were honest… Honesty doesn’t seem to be the best policy in GDW at the moment, Daniel… It seems as though many have been lied to… even your friends…”
The leather seat suddenly spins around to reveal a suited figure, pale with dark curls resting upon his head. His eyes, at least for the moment, are a piercing blue and a Cheshire Cat grin is spread across his face.
Voice: “And here is my Bond villain reveal… Sorry, I don’t have a cat…”
Herrera: “Andreas?”
It is indeed Andreas Lasiewicz sat across from him, the man responsible for the destruction and looting of this office. Dan looks perplexed by this, speechless that his friend has done this.
Herrera: “W-what are you doing?”
Lasiewicz: “Heh… What am I doing? Hmmm… I find it somewhat fascinating that within the past fifteen minutes I’ve managed to get further down the rabbit hole than any of those previously mentioned could have ever dreamed… So many distractions… Officials on the lookout for outside invaders, watching their backs as Angelica Jones is seemingly going ‘Dragon’, new signees with distasteful backgrounds flocking to the roster, competitors dishing out beatings in a form of Marshall Law, allies ignoring their friends and pursuing their own selfish agendas… It was so very easy to ensure people were looking the other way. If The Elite had only thought of that… You may not be standing where you are now… And things may be quite different…”
Herrera: “Distractions? You pushed for these things to happen? Andreas, why are you in here? This is a direct breach of not only GDW rules and of my own privacy! These are official GDW business documents you have been rooting through. I should have you escorted out of the building.”
Lasiewicz: “Then do it…”
Just as Herrera reaches for the door to call security, he hears a click as the door locks.
Lasiewicz: “The way is shut…”
Herrera realises the situation he is currently in, takes a breath then turns back towards “The Morning Star”.
Herrera: “What are you after, Andreas?”
Lasiewicz: “I’ve been searching for answers, Daniel. Answers on why corrupt referees have been officiating matches with no explanation to their motives or even identity, with no punishments delivered for their actions. And booking decisions that defy logic… for example… why a certain someone was pulled from the main event of a major pay per view after being previously advertised and promised their match. The ramifications of such an action could be quite dire for you, Daniel. You don’t really want to be the victim of a woman scorned, do you? Did you think of her growing fan base not ordering the show because of it? Did you think of what will happen to GDW after pulling the recently dethroned World Champion from an entire pay per view for no reason what so ever? All because someone demanded a one on one match when one wasn’t guaranteed? Did you think that was fair? Did you think it was fair when Nikki Walton pranced down to the ring like an obedient slave to cause such a distraction? Was it fair when Constance Black used brass knuckles to steal the World title? And then you reward her with an easier match and a larger main event pay-out? Do you think it was fair to rob Magdalena of her rematch after she was robbed of her dream? Was that fair?”
Lasiewicz begins to slowly rise from his seat, his body quaking with rage.
Lasiewicz: “Was it fair that the former champion’s brother was for some reason banned from the arena that night when he could have halted such outside interference? You know… You formed this little group called the Frontline in a means to create order in GDW, to halt outside interference, to foil dirty tactics. And what do they do? Nothing but attempt to start fights over twitter and push their own selfish agendas. And where is your direction? Nowhere to be found as you fraternise with your staff and go on little cinema dates with one of the greatest offenders in this company…”
Herrera: “My personal life has nothing to do with you!”
Lasiewicz: “But when it is affecting GDW as a whole… It does. When you ran away from running this company nine years ago, I was the one who took over and held it together. When the company was threatened from within, I was the vanguard you set against them. I have as much to do with the foundation and defence of this company as you… So I came here for answers, Daniel… I came here to find out why there is so much turmoil when there should only be competitiveness. When rules being broken is the norm, when corruption has taken over… Wasn’t The Elite disbanded? Wasn’t this supposed to be a time of relative peace? Wasn’t the main offenders dealt with… And then I found this little gem…”
Andreas slides over one of the many documents laid out on the table to Herrera. Dan recognises it immediately, growing shade of pale upon seeing it.
Lasiewicz: “I have been wondering for quite some time about my World title rematch, and the reasons why it hasn’t occurred. It seems I created a bit of a trend after I brought up the subject a few weeks ago. Now after that incident in my defence against Glory Braddock, a rematch was promised to me by not only her, but yourself and the GDW board once The Elite situation had been dealt with. Silver led Dawn Lohan, Kat Grayson and two others that everyone has already forgotten to take down the main group, whilst I dealt with Redfield himself in my own manner. But after Wrestlecade, the promise was never kept. In fact, Glory went over two months without defending the title… I thought at first it was her own cowardice and desire to keep the title around her waist by refusing to defend it… But now I found this… A signed document from the GDW Board hereby banning me from competing for the World Heavyweight title on the grounds that I am not mentally fit to be the face of the company…”
Herrera: “…”
Lasiewicz: “Oh let me read some of this… ‘Due to the violent nature of Andreas Lasiewicz’s actions at Wrestlecade in his match with Jason Redfield, it is the view of the Board of Directors that he is unfit to be the face of GDW. This could not only have a negative effect on the company as a whole, but disastrous possibilities for the main event roster. Due to the high number of injuries Mr Lasiewicz has caused to high profile names, not only in GDW but in many of our affiliates both in the United States and overseas, we have decided to omit Mr Lasiewicz from all future World title matches for an indefinite period for the safety and protection of our stars. Overturning of this decision is pending a full, in depth psychoanalysis of his mind set …’ What the fuck is this, Daniel?”
Herrera: “…”
Lasiewicz: “This has been signed by all members of the GDW Board of Directors… Bar Silver and Kayla. It is quite obvious they knew nothing of this move, even now they are oblivious. I take it they were not invited to this meeting? I take it you purposely arranged this meeting without their knowledge? Or is somebody else making the decisions in your stead. Your signature is upon the paper… Is it a forgery?”
Herrera: “I signed it. I felt it was a necessary measure.”
Andreas sits down, his head bowed in disappointment that his friend did this.
Lasiewicz: “We have been friends for over eleven years, Daniel… You have greatly disappointed me with your actions. But because of our friendship, I will give you this one chance…”
Andreas lifts his head, his eyes burning a strange molten gold.
Lasiewicz: “…to leave this room now within thirty seconds… before I rip you limb from limb…”
Herrera: “Leave? This is my office…”
Lasiewicz: “THIS IS MY WORLD…”
“The Morning Star” had leapt over the desk and was squarely in Herrera’s face, screaming at him in a low demonic voice. Herrera took a step backwards, locked on the almost satanic stance of his onetime friend.
Lasiewicz: “The countdown begins…”
There is a click at the door. Herrera takes another step back before exiting the room. Stood in the hallway are the other members of the Godfathers of Wrestling, Jonathan Collins and Gabriel Gambino. Both of them step aside to allow him to pass, shaking their heads in disappointment. Herrera walks away out of view.
Lasiewicz: “… and now it ends…”
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When the night shows
the signals grow on radios
All the strange things
they come and go, as early warnings
Stranded starfish have no place to hide
still waiting for the swollen Easter tide
There's no point in direction we cannot
even choose a side.
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We cut to a shaking camera. It is seemingly running down a busy hallway full of officials and wrestlers getting ready for the big event. Loud voices are heard in the background, indistinguishable yet getting louder all the time as the cameraman closes in on the commotion. Several people in the area are looking extremely nervous at what is happening.
Voice 1: Oh look at this! Another board meeting with two notable exceptions.
Voice 2: This has nothing to do with you!
The camera man begins to close in on the voices. He turns into another hallway at a fast pace, halting right outside a closed door. Pinned to the door itself is a brass sign with ‘GDW Boardroom’ pinned to it.
Voice 1: Oh does it not? Is this another meeting with plans to screw over another member of the roster, or are you still sticking to my family.
Voice 2: I have done what is necessary.
Voice 1: Necessary? Pulling me from my match? Pulling me from an event, just like you did to my sister? What is your reasoning, Daniel? Enlighten me!
Voice 2: You know exactly why I did this…
Voice 1: If I did, I wouldn’t be fucking asking now would I?
The voices are getting even louder now, as if those who are speaking are right on the other side of it. We can hear the shuffling of footsteps and some other indistinguishable voices, some male, others female.
Voice 1: What the hell is that? What the hell is that piece of paper right there?
Voice 2: That is none of your business, Andreas…
Voice 1: Well it has my name on it, so I think it IS my business…
There are the loud cries of people shouting and the sound of a scuffle. There is a loud crashing sound and the shattering noise of broken glass. Then, above it all, a bloody curdling roar.
Voice 1: YOU SON OF A BITCH!
The door flies open as two figures fall through, one on top of the other throwing wild punches to his temple as the man tries to defend himself. Out from the boardroom runs Gabriel Gambino and Jonathan Collins dressed in their ring gear. They attempt to pull the aggressor off of the defensive man, but to no avail. CJ Osborne sprints out of the room and also tries to resolve this situation. The GDW security team comes sprinting from out of shot, almost knocking the cameraman over as he tries to film it all. The GoW finally manage to pull the aggressive man up, revealing Andreas Lasiewicz in a messed up grey suit. On the floor slowly being helped up by CJ is GDW Owner Dan Herrera. Security suddenly grip hold of Andreas and begin to attempt to drag him away, but he fights them off nailing one of the security team square in the nose as blood splatters across the wall.
Herrera: Get him out of here!
Security finally manage to subdue the raging “Morning Star”, his eyes almost glowing a burning gold. They manage to drag him back a few steps against his will but then Herrera charges over and lays in a couple of shots to Andreas’ unprotected face. The GoW quickly get in the middle of their defenceless ally as CJ pulls Herrera back into the boardroom, attempting to calm him down. At that moment, bloody lip and all, Lasiewicz lets out a cruel and callous laugh.
Lasiewicz: Having me held back whilst you get cheap shots in? You're fucking coward, Herrera. You always have been, you always will.
Security begin to drag Lasiewicz back as the GoW try to get him released. Lasiewicz lets out one last bellow.
Lasiewicz: This isn’t over, Herrera! Everyone is going to see you for what you really are.
Herrera turns to “The Polish Spirit” whilst wiping a small amount of blood from his nostrils with a tissue.
Herrera: It is over, Andreas… You’re fired!
Lasiewicz’s face turns to one of shock and surprise, but then a wide grin appears on his face as he makes another charge for Herrera. But by the time he breaks free, the board room door has been closed. Security makes another scramble for him, knocking the cameraman over as the scene turns to static.
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I took the old track
the hollow shoulder, across the waters
On the tall cliffs
they were getting older, sons and daughters
The jaded underworld was riding high
Waves of steel hurled metal at the sky
and as the nail sunk in the cloud, the rain
was warm and soaked the crowd.
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We cut to backstage once more, this time to a seemingly deserted dressing room. Bright blue lockers decorate the eastern wall, the windows are all closed and blurred out and several plain steel chairs are littered about. One thing sits on one of these chairs, with long dark curls reaching down to her shoulders, her head bowed so that the mop of hair obscures her face. She lifts her face slowly, revealing a pale, almost elfin face. Her make-up was expertly applied though her outfit wasn’t the usual stylish trends that she was known for. Instead she was clad very casually in jeans and a tight beige leather jacket. The Fair Lady of GDW, Magdalena begins to speak.
Magdalena: I can’t take this anymore… What is there left for me here? You’ve been fired, I was screwed out of the world title and my girlfriend decides to announce we’ve broken up over twitter without even speaking to me about it…
She looks to her left. Standing there with his back to the wall, smoking a Marlboro cigarette is her older brother Andreas Lasiewicz. His head is bowed as he listens closely, but is silent all the way through.
Magdalena: Constance Black uses outside interference to rob me of the title I worked so hard for… and then the board decides I don’t deserve to be on the next pay per view, never mind get my rematch…
A single tear drips down her face, mixing in with the thick mat of black eyeliner to start the formation of a river of darkness that begins to steadily flow down her face.
Magdalena: Then Lilith decides to congratulate her, tell her that everything she did was right. Why didn’t she come out to help me? Oh, I forget she was so wrapped up with following Alana Starr around like a little lost lamb. But not one consoling word from her? She was silent to me, she didn’t support me for one second! As soon as I won that World title… S-she just became… cold. I wanted her support… But she gave me nothing. Then using outside interference in her match with you… I-I don’t know what she was thinking.
She stands, slightly shaky on her feet as her emotions begin to get the better of her.
Magdalena: She’s become someone else entirely. She never even spoke to me about anything… And then announces it’s over between us and within a day is dating…
Out of nowhere she suddenly flings the steel chair across the room, smashing the western window with the force. She begins to wail uncontrollably like a banshee, pulling her hair out as she starts throwing boots to any object in sight. Chairs, a coffee table, the lockers themselves.
Magdalena: I swore I wouldn’t let this happen again… but it did… I SHOULD RIP HER A-FUCKING-PART!!
She grabs hold of one of the lockers and pulls it down to the ground with a thunderous crash as the personal belongings off an unknown competitor tumble out onto the floor. She collapses to the ground in a heap, her loud wails turning into a soft whimper. Andreas stubs out his cigarette and knees down beside his emotionally broken sister.
Magdalena: I-I-I can’t… I love her so much… I hate myself for it so much… There’s nothing left for me here.
He notices a piece of paper in her shaking hands. She looks up at him, giving a small shrug as she shows it to him.
Magdalena: Even this contract. The board offered me my title match. They sent me a contract for a World title rematch. Even says in the small print that I can do anything I wish with it. I don’t even know what that means…
Andreas looks at the contract then back to her. He slowly helps her to her feet, putting his arm around her for support.
Lasiewicz: I should get you out of here… This isn’t our place anymore.
Magdalena: I can’t do this anymore…
The scene begins to fade as he escorts her out of the room.
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Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
in any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.
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The scene switches to outside of the arena, the car park specifically. There is a long, shining black limousine parked up waiting with its doors open. The engine is on, though all of the windows are blacked out. Standing by the exit is the recently fired Andreas Lasiewicz, clad in the same grey suit as before. He is showing very little emotion, simply staring up at the GDW banner that overhangs the entrance way.
Lasiewicz: It’s… been a long journey…
He pushes his shades upon his head, his eyes wide as he stares up at the banner, his gaze never breaking. He gently strokes the side of the building with his right hand, but as he does so some of the brick work crumbles to his touch. Tiny specks of rubble gently fall down to the ground, falling apart into dust.
Lasiewicz: Poetic…
A single tear builds up in his right eye, but not one of salt water. Instead it is the crimson sight of blood. It softly trickles down his handsome yet grizzled features. All the way down to his chin, before descending down to the ground, splashing upon the floor. He closes his eyes tightly.
Lasiewicz: It didn’t have to be this way…
He opens his eyes once more, the cold, piercing blue seems to diminish. He turns on his feet and heads towards the limo. He turns his head once more, almost reluctantly staring up at the GDW logo one final time.
Lasiewicz: …Dobranoc…
He climbs into the car, closing the door behind him. Several moments pass before the limo begins to set off. The camera keeps track until the limo is finally out of sight. It is gone.
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When the flood calls
You have no home, you have no walls
In the thunder crash
You're a thousand minds, within a flash
Don't be afraid to cry at what you see
The actors gone, there's only you and me
And if we break before the dawn, they'll
use up what we used to be.
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Kayla Jones, the newly elected GDW President, returned to her paperwork, looking about herself to see if anyone was about. The room was empty apart from herself and she began to frantically shuffle through her papers. After a short while she suddenly slams them onto the table, a look of frustration upon her face.
Kayla: It can’t be done…
A few small tears roll down her beautiful face, though she quickly dabs them away with a tissue. She picks up her phone and quickly dials a number. She waits a few anxious moments before whoever it is on the over line answers.
Kayla: Hey… It’s Kayla… Seriously, you’re sick. That’s never going to happen… Sorry, I just can’t get used to your sense of humour. Look, I’ve checked out all those contracts you suggested. I’ve looked through every file imaginable; I can’t find a loophole… Looks like when he did this he had pre-planned it… I can’t find anyway to bring him back… No, no I’ll keep looking… I’ll keep you updated… Thanks, Silver…
She puts down the phone and rests her head in her hands. Letting out a deep sigh she continues with her research.
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Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
in any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.
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