Post by sick on Jun 14, 2012 6:24:35 GMT -5
May 13th 2012, Wilkes Residence.
(With the words 'taped' located on the left corner of the screen, our scene opens up to the inside of Wilkes residence in New York City. The upscale interior is something to behold as we delve deeper into the residence. Inside the lounge room area we find the man known all too well as Sickboy sitting on the couch watching some old tapes of himself wrestling in past promotions. Reminiscing on a career well done. Something he can watch with pride. That is of course until he is interrupted by a knock on the front. He is initially slow to get up from the chair. That is before there is more door knocking which makes Sickboy move more quickly to the door.)
Sickboy: Alright, alright, I'm coming. Just let me get to the door.
(Unlocking the deadlock and other assorted locks, he opens the door to find a man from UPS standing there holding a package.)
Mailman: Delivery here for you Mr. Wilkes. Just need you to sign the documentation.
(Taking the clipboard, Sickboy signs it quickly then hands the clipboard back. He then receives his package and after a few more pleasantries with the mailman, he shuts the door before placing the package on the ground. Inspecting it with a puzzled look on his face. After retrieving a box cutter from the kitchen, he slowly cuts open the box to find a note placed on top of a werewolf costume.)
Sickboy: Hmm, wonder what this is about.
(Carefully reading the note, he keeps peeking at the costume as he reads. Reaching the end of the note, he folds it up into his jeans pocket. Before he pulls his hand out he notices that his mobile phone is vibrating. He plucks it from his pocket and and answers it.)
Sickboy: Yo?
(The voice that comes through the phone is heavily disguised by voice changing equipment.)
Voice: I see you got the package.
Sickboy: That I did. Why a werewolf though?
Voice: Because you wouldn't like the other costume I got. Now, I'm going organize for us to go on a little trip. You don't make any other mention about this until I meet you at our designated place in a few weeks time. But make sure you keep our friend on his toes for another week or so until he let's his guard down.
Sickboy: Will do friend. He's thoroughly convinced I won't come back. After all I have said lately with Dennis Donnelly a few days ago
Voice: Good, good.
Sickboy: And you know how good I am with fucking with people minds. Until later my friend. I will make sure that I can get him close to paranoia as I can.
Voice: Excellent. Until then.
(After a short bit of static flashes on the screen we now jump forward in time. To show Sickboy just about to walk into his daughters room. Viewers may note the writing of 'last week' on the left hand corner of the screen as the footage rolls. As he walks in to overlook his sleeping daughter his phone rings silently. To which he instantly answers knowing who is on the other end of the line.)
Sickboy: Time?
Voice: It is indeed time. We already have people talking about our exploits. Although they have no idea who it was. It worked to perfection.
Sickboy: Excellent. I've told my wife and she is all cool with me taking up my profession again. I've even convinced her to do a little piece with me tonight to further throw people off the trail. I must tell you I'm itching to get my hands on Morrison's neck.
Voice: Patience Curtis. His time is coming. Now I will meet you at our location of Tokyo for a little training, then come this Saturday we will strike when the time is right.
Sickboy: Main Event?
Voice: Where the Elite belong yes.
Sickboy: While we're at it. I think we should target Draven and Lonewolf. Really send the message home.
Voice: If the opportunity presents itself. Then yes they will be targets. Now make sure to get your affairs in order and I'll meet you in Tokyo at the airport.
Sickboy: Cool. See you there friend.
***
Like a prophet predicting the end to all the normality. Every one of you. From the staff, the wrestlers and the fans of the said wrestlers ignored the warnings. I tried to be nice, I tried to be civilized in my actions along with my words. But I was ignored by all and especially one in particular. So I tried to be more forceful in my words and again I was ignored. Labelled washed up. A has been, a joke. Some said I should stay in hiatus. Again it took one person to say something that would open the Lament Configuration box, to unleash a hell that will sweep across the land of the PCW. The fact is not one of you out there could see it coming when it was right in front of your eyes. Worse is that none of you was in position to stop it until it was too late and well, let's just say people payed for it big time.
(A photo of the battered and brutalized Draven, Lonewolf and Morrison appears on the screen.)
In ten minutes of mayhem. Yoshiru and I took out three superstars. Two champions and a number one contender. That is all it took. Ten minutes. After those ten long minutes, we had the wrestling world talking. The Elite was back and we proved we were just that. Elite. Sadly for Lonewolf and Draven, they were nothing more than bait to us. For you see the big catch was only a stones throw away. Which brings me to the infecter of this epidemic that has now been brought to PCW, for you see he is the one that everyone's hatred should be aimed at. Sure we destroyed Lonewolf and Draven, not to mention that there are many others we have on our hit list. The person I'm talking about is a man called Mr. Morrison.
(A photo of Morrison posing with the PCW World Title now comes on to the screen.)
Michael Morrison, look at what you have done, is the reality starting to sink in on how your words have set in motion what could be disastrous consequences for the whole of the PCW. What amazes me is that no matter what happens. You always think you're in control of the situation. Morrison, I don't think you're scared. I know you are. Two or so weeks ago, you were laughing at the thought of me coming back, scoffing even. Then this past week your whole demeanor changed. You were annoyed, pissed off even that I was running my mouth still about coming back. Now that we're back in the picture, leaving you in crumpled heap. You seem humbled, confused and befuddled at why we picked you. Well asshole we didn't target you at all. In fact you were a mere afterthought, after all we were going to get you one way or the other. Just not yet. That changed when you stuck your nose into business that didn't involve yourself. You got involved and paid the price for your transgressions. You fucked up and then got fucked up literally. I thought you would've learnt a lesson there.
But in a rare occasion I was wrong.
For it seems that in that thing you call a brain, it seems you have no filter in what you say. So just comes out in mindless chatter. It even appears that it's damaged or on repeat as well. Time and time again you say that you single handedly destroyed Elite. Correction, you beat The Elite. To destroy us would mean taking us out permanently so we wouldn't return to harm a little hair on your head. To destroy would mean killing us in a violent fashion. You merely beat the Elite Morrison. So don't get too carried away in your verbal diarrhea when you haven't accomplished shit yet. So you beat me a year ago, whoopee-fucking-doo. And what have you accomplished since then that I haven't already done in my long career? Jack shit. The most laughable thing is you having the gall to say that people will forget the Elite to talk in favor of you. Maybe as a arrogant scumbag. Maybe as a hypocrite. But as a great champion, not a chance. You'll be more or less known for what you truly are. Mine and Yoshiru's bitch.
But don't let me persuade you from your revenge plan that you announced as going to happen at the next Rapture. I will be looking forward to your plan backfiring and me stopping short from placing my boot so far up your ass that you'll be tasting my boot soles for many months to come.
(Now a picture of the PCW roster of stars appears on the screen.)
Eennie meany miney mo, who will will be the first to suffer the crucial blow. So many superstars, so many people to make an example of in my comeback. Let's be honest though, I don't think there will be many volunteers sticking their hands up to be picked first in the situation that lays ahead. After all, what happened this past week could. No. Definitely will happen to them for it is a contract at stake here. A contract that will allow me to enter the arena without dressing like a wolf to pass security. Now I have a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Ryder and Mr. Baker are not going to make it easy for me being that I took the gloss off the main event contenders and the Platinum champion in one fell swoop with Yoshiru at my side. All I have to say to both of them is bring it on. I'm ready for anything or anybody that is going to be thrown at me. For I will do anything, go through any kind of hell to get my hands on the scumbag known as Michael Morrison. I'd sell my soul to the devil for a third time to have it happen. Until then I will just be content on humiliating my first opponent to set an example. I will let him feel what it's like to Embrace The Darkness or head on the Downward Spiral. Whoever it may be in the PCW. Good luck.
(The roster photo fades out and is replaced by a picture of Yoshiru Long and Sickboy holding the titles over the three fallen men this past week.)
Because I am Elite.
(The Insignia of the Elite now appears on the bottom.)
And I'm fucking better than all of you.
(The picture and logo stay on the screen for 10 seconds more before we fade to black.)
(With the words 'taped' located on the left corner of the screen, our scene opens up to the inside of Wilkes residence in New York City. The upscale interior is something to behold as we delve deeper into the residence. Inside the lounge room area we find the man known all too well as Sickboy sitting on the couch watching some old tapes of himself wrestling in past promotions. Reminiscing on a career well done. Something he can watch with pride. That is of course until he is interrupted by a knock on the front. He is initially slow to get up from the chair. That is before there is more door knocking which makes Sickboy move more quickly to the door.)
Sickboy: Alright, alright, I'm coming. Just let me get to the door.
(Unlocking the deadlock and other assorted locks, he opens the door to find a man from UPS standing there holding a package.)
Mailman: Delivery here for you Mr. Wilkes. Just need you to sign the documentation.
(Taking the clipboard, Sickboy signs it quickly then hands the clipboard back. He then receives his package and after a few more pleasantries with the mailman, he shuts the door before placing the package on the ground. Inspecting it with a puzzled look on his face. After retrieving a box cutter from the kitchen, he slowly cuts open the box to find a note placed on top of a werewolf costume.)
Sickboy: Hmm, wonder what this is about.
(Carefully reading the note, he keeps peeking at the costume as he reads. Reaching the end of the note, he folds it up into his jeans pocket. Before he pulls his hand out he notices that his mobile phone is vibrating. He plucks it from his pocket and and answers it.)
Sickboy: Yo?
(The voice that comes through the phone is heavily disguised by voice changing equipment.)
Voice: I see you got the package.
Sickboy: That I did. Why a werewolf though?
Voice: Because you wouldn't like the other costume I got. Now, I'm going organize for us to go on a little trip. You don't make any other mention about this until I meet you at our designated place in a few weeks time. But make sure you keep our friend on his toes for another week or so until he let's his guard down.
Sickboy: Will do friend. He's thoroughly convinced I won't come back. After all I have said lately with Dennis Donnelly a few days ago
Voice: Good, good.
Sickboy: And you know how good I am with fucking with people minds. Until later my friend. I will make sure that I can get him close to paranoia as I can.
Voice: Excellent. Until then.
(After a short bit of static flashes on the screen we now jump forward in time. To show Sickboy just about to walk into his daughters room. Viewers may note the writing of 'last week' on the left hand corner of the screen as the footage rolls. As he walks in to overlook his sleeping daughter his phone rings silently. To which he instantly answers knowing who is on the other end of the line.)
Sickboy: Time?
Voice: It is indeed time. We already have people talking about our exploits. Although they have no idea who it was. It worked to perfection.
Sickboy: Excellent. I've told my wife and she is all cool with me taking up my profession again. I've even convinced her to do a little piece with me tonight to further throw people off the trail. I must tell you I'm itching to get my hands on Morrison's neck.
Voice: Patience Curtis. His time is coming. Now I will meet you at our location of Tokyo for a little training, then come this Saturday we will strike when the time is right.
Sickboy: Main Event?
Voice: Where the Elite belong yes.
Sickboy: While we're at it. I think we should target Draven and Lonewolf. Really send the message home.
Voice: If the opportunity presents itself. Then yes they will be targets. Now make sure to get your affairs in order and I'll meet you in Tokyo at the airport.
Sickboy: Cool. See you there friend.
***
Like a prophet predicting the end to all the normality. Every one of you. From the staff, the wrestlers and the fans of the said wrestlers ignored the warnings. I tried to be nice, I tried to be civilized in my actions along with my words. But I was ignored by all and especially one in particular. So I tried to be more forceful in my words and again I was ignored. Labelled washed up. A has been, a joke. Some said I should stay in hiatus. Again it took one person to say something that would open the Lament Configuration box, to unleash a hell that will sweep across the land of the PCW. The fact is not one of you out there could see it coming when it was right in front of your eyes. Worse is that none of you was in position to stop it until it was too late and well, let's just say people payed for it big time.
(A photo of the battered and brutalized Draven, Lonewolf and Morrison appears on the screen.)
In ten minutes of mayhem. Yoshiru and I took out three superstars. Two champions and a number one contender. That is all it took. Ten minutes. After those ten long minutes, we had the wrestling world talking. The Elite was back and we proved we were just that. Elite. Sadly for Lonewolf and Draven, they were nothing more than bait to us. For you see the big catch was only a stones throw away. Which brings me to the infecter of this epidemic that has now been brought to PCW, for you see he is the one that everyone's hatred should be aimed at. Sure we destroyed Lonewolf and Draven, not to mention that there are many others we have on our hit list. The person I'm talking about is a man called Mr. Morrison.
(A photo of Morrison posing with the PCW World Title now comes on to the screen.)
Michael Morrison, look at what you have done, is the reality starting to sink in on how your words have set in motion what could be disastrous consequences for the whole of the PCW. What amazes me is that no matter what happens. You always think you're in control of the situation. Morrison, I don't think you're scared. I know you are. Two or so weeks ago, you were laughing at the thought of me coming back, scoffing even. Then this past week your whole demeanor changed. You were annoyed, pissed off even that I was running my mouth still about coming back. Now that we're back in the picture, leaving you in crumpled heap. You seem humbled, confused and befuddled at why we picked you. Well asshole we didn't target you at all. In fact you were a mere afterthought, after all we were going to get you one way or the other. Just not yet. That changed when you stuck your nose into business that didn't involve yourself. You got involved and paid the price for your transgressions. You fucked up and then got fucked up literally. I thought you would've learnt a lesson there.
But in a rare occasion I was wrong.
For it seems that in that thing you call a brain, it seems you have no filter in what you say. So just comes out in mindless chatter. It even appears that it's damaged or on repeat as well. Time and time again you say that you single handedly destroyed Elite. Correction, you beat The Elite. To destroy us would mean taking us out permanently so we wouldn't return to harm a little hair on your head. To destroy would mean killing us in a violent fashion. You merely beat the Elite Morrison. So don't get too carried away in your verbal diarrhea when you haven't accomplished shit yet. So you beat me a year ago, whoopee-fucking-doo. And what have you accomplished since then that I haven't already done in my long career? Jack shit. The most laughable thing is you having the gall to say that people will forget the Elite to talk in favor of you. Maybe as a arrogant scumbag. Maybe as a hypocrite. But as a great champion, not a chance. You'll be more or less known for what you truly are. Mine and Yoshiru's bitch.
But don't let me persuade you from your revenge plan that you announced as going to happen at the next Rapture. I will be looking forward to your plan backfiring and me stopping short from placing my boot so far up your ass that you'll be tasting my boot soles for many months to come.
(Now a picture of the PCW roster of stars appears on the screen.)
Eennie meany miney mo, who will will be the first to suffer the crucial blow. So many superstars, so many people to make an example of in my comeback. Let's be honest though, I don't think there will be many volunteers sticking their hands up to be picked first in the situation that lays ahead. After all, what happened this past week could. No. Definitely will happen to them for it is a contract at stake here. A contract that will allow me to enter the arena without dressing like a wolf to pass security. Now I have a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Ryder and Mr. Baker are not going to make it easy for me being that I took the gloss off the main event contenders and the Platinum champion in one fell swoop with Yoshiru at my side. All I have to say to both of them is bring it on. I'm ready for anything or anybody that is going to be thrown at me. For I will do anything, go through any kind of hell to get my hands on the scumbag known as Michael Morrison. I'd sell my soul to the devil for a third time to have it happen. Until then I will just be content on humiliating my first opponent to set an example. I will let him feel what it's like to Embrace The Darkness or head on the Downward Spiral. Whoever it may be in the PCW. Good luck.
(The roster photo fades out and is replaced by a picture of Yoshiru Long and Sickboy holding the titles over the three fallen men this past week.)
Because I am Elite.
(The Insignia of the Elite now appears on the bottom.)
And I'm fucking better than all of you.
(The picture and logo stay on the screen for 10 seconds more before we fade to black.)
