Post by sick on Jun 30, 2012 5:01:20 GMT -5
{I think I can say for all of us that getting a job can be an exciting time for any person. Whether it is your first, last, new or old. We love to be hired to work. Especially with the way the things are in our fair country, with the country in the shitter and getting shittier each passing day. Even if you hate your job and believe me a lot of people do, we are grateful to have something, anything in our pay packets each week. Just so we can live another day to face the shit at our job. Even if we have to put up with crappy customers or clients who can't use their brains to figure simple things out. We deep down in the back of our minds, are grateful to be employed.
"But Curtis," you might say to me. "Why would I want to work when I can live off welfare and not have to lift a finger?"
My friends, when I was a teenager with a twinkle in my eye. I thought those same thoughts. That was until I had to live off it. Sure it sounds great at first, then the bills pile up, the collectors are knocking on your door and those job counsellors are bugging you to sit in job expos with all the dumb shits feeling your IQ slip downwards every second you sit in those things. Besides there is only so many video games you can play before you get bored. So you think I would be happy to be employed by the PCW again. Signed to a fat contract, with sponsorships and deals coming at me. Instead I just feel guilt.
Thanks to the power brokers in the office. More importantly two crooked businessmen, I had to face my best friend to gain a contract. In the end when I won, I felt empty, gutted, angry. I felt no joy in beating my friend. Just because they fear us, shouldn't mean that we have to fight like dogs over a steak. Now Yoshiru is out of work and I'm in one that I feel is going to screw me over like whore. The question is what to do?
Who should be first to suffer pain for this injustice?}[/i]
(High Rise Hotel room 1am. Several hours after Slamathon.)
(In the wee hours Sunday, the click of the key card lock of a hotel room is the first sound we hear. It's then followed by the click along with shine of a light to illuminate to the hotel room of one Curtis Wilkes. Dressed in black shirt along with tattered jeans with Doc Marten boots on his feet, he places his gym bag on the floor next to the hotel bed and sits on the bed. Turning his head to his beside, he spots a packet of cigarettes, to which he grabs seemingly to light up. Instead he scrunches it up, walks over to a waste bin on one side of the room and places it in with a sigh.)
Sickboy: Come on, Curtis. You can last more than month without cancer sticks.
Voice: Never thought I'd hear those words.
(The voice snaps Sickboy to attention. A voice that makes him turn around, there standing in the room is a friend that used to know with the name of Wayne.)
Sickboy: How did you get in here?
Wayne: I'm a ghost remember? I died from being executed by your thugs.
Sickboy: Oh yeah, now I remember. How is the afterlife?
Wayne: Boring, can't smoke, can't drink without the threat of hellfire from the big man. You?
Sickboy: Feel like shit emotionally, I cost my brother in arms a job in the PCW thanks to James Baker pulling a fast one on both of us. I'm feeling like I'm being served up on a pedestal for the rest of the PCW vultures to pick me apart. I have no allegiances or friends.
Wayne: Oh poor you.
Sickboy: You're not helping.
Wayne: Yeah, I know. Look, sitting here dwelling on it is not going to get anything done. If anything you need to grow some nuts in that sack of yours and do something about it.
Sickboy: What though?
Wayne: Think about it. Though some people may disagree, where I've been watching you're a pretty hot commodity at this point in time. You said it yourself that the company was stale as old bread until you and Yoshiru turned up. Why not use that to your advantage? Do something for the big boys to stand and take notice of you. It's probably better than sitting on your ass dwelling on problems that at the moment are out of your hands.
(Sickboy clicks his tongue as he goes deep in thought for an idea. Seconds later his eyes light up as a thought pops into his head.)
Sickboy: I got it. Something tells me this will be big, although I can't disclose it to anyone except Yoshiru.
Wayne: It's alright, I can read your thoughts.
Sickboy: How so?
Wayne: Because this is just a figment of your imagination and you need to wake up.
Sickboy: Wait wha....?
(A quick switch in shot reveals Sickboy sprawled out on top of his hotel bed, just shuddering awake from an apparent dream. It's now late Sunday morning and the sun is now shining through a slit in the curtains. Sickboy looks over to the bedside table and sees the packet of cigarettes of his unopened. He picks them up and throws them to the other side of the room. To get them out of his sight.)
Sickboy: Great, now I have withdrawal symptoms. Damn I'm going to be a mean son of a bitch as days go by trying to quit.
Not that it is going to be any change from the anger I'm feeling right now over what happened at Slamathon this past week. Look, I know Yoshiru and I were probably over the top in what we did to the so called elite champs of PCW. Scarring them. Making them bleed. Sending a message. Did they expect anything less? So at Slamathon, probably at the threat of a revolt by PCW superstars, James Baker decided to pit me and Yoshiru against each other for one contract and one job. Because he would rather have a bunch of cowards working for him than a couple of fearless men opposing him. But I can hear you people saying that Michael Morrison opposes the authority in charge. And to that I call bullshit. Morrison, if he was so opposed to management, would drop that belt and go work elsewhere. But in his heart, he knows that an overrated hack like him would struggle to rise to the top anywhere else. So he follows Baker and Ryder like an abused puppy hoping to get praise one day.
All I can ask Baker is this. Will your toying with the Elite be really worth it in the end? Look around you Baker, how many friends will you have standing by you when the shit hits the fan? Will they still stand by you after we start to pick them off one by one due to their association with you? Something tells me that sooner, rather than later, you will find out who your true friends are. I would bring some armor to cover your back, it won't be long before someone stabs you in the back.
But I will deal with that soon. Now let's get to the man who successfully defended the world title at Slamathon and got his ass kicked afterwards....Again.
Morrison, you really disappoint me. I was looking forward to some retribution from you at Slamathon. Or even some witty repartee in your interview before hand. Yet there was nothing, not one word or punch. Come on man, have some pride in yourself. Fight back against your oppressors for Christ sakes. Instead you like to be that employee who does nothing but bitch, yet says nothing or does nothing to change it. So what's it going to take Morrison to finally tip you over the edge and have the balls to do something about it? You're close to tipping point and in your heart you know it to be true. The mask of cool and calmness you like to wear is starting to slip from you. That is going to cost you big time in the future when I finally push you off the edge into paranoia, madness and misery. So, the question being asked is how long before it happens? Given what I've done to you so far, I'd say this Rapture episode coming up will be the episode where you will snap, making in the process the biggest mistake of your life.
In fact at Rapture, you happen to be facing our girl Heather Monroe the lovely lass that she is. That's probably why she's been talking to me and Yoshiru in phone calls asking how to humiliate you. Don't forget, she was and for all you know is still a member of the Elite. She could still be one of us Morrison, think about it. Oh we'll be watching, because we are interested in seeing how you are going to do with a new amount of pressure on your shoulders not to mention a little paranoia that I have planted in that little pea brain of yours. We will watch as our girl Heather picks you apart like a like a lion does with meat from a carcass and if your lucky. Really, really lucky. I will come down and you will get to stand face to face with something that you can never ever be in your life time. Elite. It will be wise to remember that Morrison. To remember, that I along Yoshiru are known as The Elite.
And no matter how hard you try and what you accomplish. We will always be better than you. Always.
(The logo of the Elite flashes on the screen before we fade to black.)
"But Curtis," you might say to me. "Why would I want to work when I can live off welfare and not have to lift a finger?"
My friends, when I was a teenager with a twinkle in my eye. I thought those same thoughts. That was until I had to live off it. Sure it sounds great at first, then the bills pile up, the collectors are knocking on your door and those job counsellors are bugging you to sit in job expos with all the dumb shits feeling your IQ slip downwards every second you sit in those things. Besides there is only so many video games you can play before you get bored. So you think I would be happy to be employed by the PCW again. Signed to a fat contract, with sponsorships and deals coming at me. Instead I just feel guilt.
Thanks to the power brokers in the office. More importantly two crooked businessmen, I had to face my best friend to gain a contract. In the end when I won, I felt empty, gutted, angry. I felt no joy in beating my friend. Just because they fear us, shouldn't mean that we have to fight like dogs over a steak. Now Yoshiru is out of work and I'm in one that I feel is going to screw me over like whore. The question is what to do?
Who should be first to suffer pain for this injustice?}[/i]
(High Rise Hotel room 1am. Several hours after Slamathon.)
(In the wee hours Sunday, the click of the key card lock of a hotel room is the first sound we hear. It's then followed by the click along with shine of a light to illuminate to the hotel room of one Curtis Wilkes. Dressed in black shirt along with tattered jeans with Doc Marten boots on his feet, he places his gym bag on the floor next to the hotel bed and sits on the bed. Turning his head to his beside, he spots a packet of cigarettes, to which he grabs seemingly to light up. Instead he scrunches it up, walks over to a waste bin on one side of the room and places it in with a sigh.)
Sickboy: Come on, Curtis. You can last more than month without cancer sticks.
Voice: Never thought I'd hear those words.
(The voice snaps Sickboy to attention. A voice that makes him turn around, there standing in the room is a friend that used to know with the name of Wayne.)
Sickboy: How did you get in here?
Wayne: I'm a ghost remember? I died from being executed by your thugs.
Sickboy: Oh yeah, now I remember. How is the afterlife?
Wayne: Boring, can't smoke, can't drink without the threat of hellfire from the big man. You?
Sickboy: Feel like shit emotionally, I cost my brother in arms a job in the PCW thanks to James Baker pulling a fast one on both of us. I'm feeling like I'm being served up on a pedestal for the rest of the PCW vultures to pick me apart. I have no allegiances or friends.
Wayne: Oh poor you.
Sickboy: You're not helping.
Wayne: Yeah, I know. Look, sitting here dwelling on it is not going to get anything done. If anything you need to grow some nuts in that sack of yours and do something about it.
Sickboy: What though?
Wayne: Think about it. Though some people may disagree, where I've been watching you're a pretty hot commodity at this point in time. You said it yourself that the company was stale as old bread until you and Yoshiru turned up. Why not use that to your advantage? Do something for the big boys to stand and take notice of you. It's probably better than sitting on your ass dwelling on problems that at the moment are out of your hands.
(Sickboy clicks his tongue as he goes deep in thought for an idea. Seconds later his eyes light up as a thought pops into his head.)
Sickboy: I got it. Something tells me this will be big, although I can't disclose it to anyone except Yoshiru.
Wayne: It's alright, I can read your thoughts.
Sickboy: How so?
Wayne: Because this is just a figment of your imagination and you need to wake up.
Sickboy: Wait wha....?
(A quick switch in shot reveals Sickboy sprawled out on top of his hotel bed, just shuddering awake from an apparent dream. It's now late Sunday morning and the sun is now shining through a slit in the curtains. Sickboy looks over to the bedside table and sees the packet of cigarettes of his unopened. He picks them up and throws them to the other side of the room. To get them out of his sight.)
Sickboy: Great, now I have withdrawal symptoms. Damn I'm going to be a mean son of a bitch as days go by trying to quit.
XXX
Not that it is going to be any change from the anger I'm feeling right now over what happened at Slamathon this past week. Look, I know Yoshiru and I were probably over the top in what we did to the so called elite champs of PCW. Scarring them. Making them bleed. Sending a message. Did they expect anything less? So at Slamathon, probably at the threat of a revolt by PCW superstars, James Baker decided to pit me and Yoshiru against each other for one contract and one job. Because he would rather have a bunch of cowards working for him than a couple of fearless men opposing him. But I can hear you people saying that Michael Morrison opposes the authority in charge. And to that I call bullshit. Morrison, if he was so opposed to management, would drop that belt and go work elsewhere. But in his heart, he knows that an overrated hack like him would struggle to rise to the top anywhere else. So he follows Baker and Ryder like an abused puppy hoping to get praise one day.
All I can ask Baker is this. Will your toying with the Elite be really worth it in the end? Look around you Baker, how many friends will you have standing by you when the shit hits the fan? Will they still stand by you after we start to pick them off one by one due to their association with you? Something tells me that sooner, rather than later, you will find out who your true friends are. I would bring some armor to cover your back, it won't be long before someone stabs you in the back.
But I will deal with that soon. Now let's get to the man who successfully defended the world title at Slamathon and got his ass kicked afterwards....Again.
Morrison, you really disappoint me. I was looking forward to some retribution from you at Slamathon. Or even some witty repartee in your interview before hand. Yet there was nothing, not one word or punch. Come on man, have some pride in yourself. Fight back against your oppressors for Christ sakes. Instead you like to be that employee who does nothing but bitch, yet says nothing or does nothing to change it. So what's it going to take Morrison to finally tip you over the edge and have the balls to do something about it? You're close to tipping point and in your heart you know it to be true. The mask of cool and calmness you like to wear is starting to slip from you. That is going to cost you big time in the future when I finally push you off the edge into paranoia, madness and misery. So, the question being asked is how long before it happens? Given what I've done to you so far, I'd say this Rapture episode coming up will be the episode where you will snap, making in the process the biggest mistake of your life.
In fact at Rapture, you happen to be facing our girl Heather Monroe the lovely lass that she is. That's probably why she's been talking to me and Yoshiru in phone calls asking how to humiliate you. Don't forget, she was and for all you know is still a member of the Elite. She could still be one of us Morrison, think about it. Oh we'll be watching, because we are interested in seeing how you are going to do with a new amount of pressure on your shoulders not to mention a little paranoia that I have planted in that little pea brain of yours. We will watch as our girl Heather picks you apart like a like a lion does with meat from a carcass and if your lucky. Really, really lucky. I will come down and you will get to stand face to face with something that you can never ever be in your life time. Elite. It will be wise to remember that Morrison. To remember, that I along Yoshiru are known as The Elite.
And no matter how hard you try and what you accomplish. We will always be better than you. Always.
(The logo of the Elite flashes on the screen before we fade to black.)