Post by Anthony Royal on Oct 24, 2011 0:00:31 GMT -4
The scene opens in an empty auditorium. The room is somewhat damp and musty and gives off the appearance that it hasn’t been used, or for that matter even inhabited for quite a long time. Aside from a few dim, flickering light panels, the only real light in the room comes from a spotlight shining on the stage. There sits a figure, a man to be precise. The man appears to have something heavy weighing on his mind and looks to be deep in thought. As the camera approaches, the man looks up, revealing himself to be none other than Anthony Royal. A slight smile creeps across his face as he begins to speak.
[red] Royal: William Shakespeare once said “All the world’s a stage, and the men and women merely players…” [/red]
Royal stands up and begins roaming around the stage, speaking in almost a soliloquy.
[red] Royal: A wise man Shakespeare was, and as usual, his words were filled with truth. We are all but mere players in the great play that is life and we all have predetermined roles. The few, like myself, are chosen to be stars, the lead role if you will. Some get supporting roles. Most are given the pathetic, bottom feeding roles that the play could no doubt go on without. No matter what though, we all have roles. The AWR is a great cast, and this week, two of its biggest stars go head to head to determine just who the leading man in this production is. For this Tuesday at Crash TV, it is the brave and honorable Anthony Royal waging war with the diabolical, madman monster known as Hell. [/red]
Royal smirks at the mention of Hell. At this point, he stops wandering the stage and returns to his seat at the front of the stage, in the spotlight.
[red] Royal: Now, despite the idea that my previous words may have created, I myself am no theatre buff. No, rather Hell, you simply remind me of the great tragedies that Shakespeare famously wrote. Like Hamlet and Macbeth, you Hell are a great individual. Strong, cunning, brave. You have every trait that a person could desire. However, for all the great traits that you possess, there is one that supersedes them all. You Hell, are what the literature intellectuals call a tragic hero. Such incredible greatness, but one tragic flaw will lead to your untimely demise. For Hamlet it was indecisiveness and an inability to act. For Macbeth, it was incredible ambition. And for you Hell, it is an overabundance of pride. [/red]
Royal lets a smile take over his face, believing he has found Hell’s one weakness.
[red] Royal: Now Hell, you and I honestly don’t know each other that well, do we? Sure, we shared a company for a brief time in the NIWF, but besides the recent and brief incident in which my lead pipe smashed your demonic cranium, we really haven’t had many, if any encounters at all. Despite this Hell, you have seen my body of work, and you know the kind of demented and evil things I am capable of. Even a sadist like you can appreciate my taste for blood and the sheer level of danger one faces when standing in the corner opposite of me. This is why I was so taken aback when I learned that you actually had the audacity to challenge me to a match, and a no disqualification match at that. Why would a man as smart as you be willing to risk stepping into the ring with me when there are no rules in place to limit my viciousness? And that is when I answered my own question with a simple realization: You, Hell, have too much pride for your own good. Week after week, David Saturn sings your praises and verbally ejaculates at the mere sight of you. Week after week the inbred, half-wit fans chant your name and cheer you on. Week after week all anybody hears is Hell this Hell that. Hell is such a monster. Hell is so strong. Hell has great technical skills for a man his size. Hell is simple unstoppable. And while I do nothing but earn my accolades, as well jam a rusty nail into my ears so the noise stops, you let their chants and their praise go to your head. You let them swell your head like a carcass in intense heat. The great Hell has bought in to his own hype. Well guess what, I haven’t. You see Hell, maybe you can rest on your laurels and slide by on reputation alone when it comes to beating the rest of the “talent” around here, but that doesn’t work with me. Anthony Royal was made from a different mold, and I’m afraid you’re going to have to find that out the hard way come Crash TV. What is it Hell? You think because you’re big and tall and scary that I’m just going to roll over and let you have your way with me? Go ask Flammenkreig what big and tall and scary did for him. It got him a broken hand and a loss. And that was with rules. What do you think will happen to you when there is nothing to restrict me? If I want to smash your brains in, I can, and I will. If I feel like you shouldn’t be able to walk when the final bell rings, chances are, you won’t. You see Hell, I have free reign to do whatever I deem necessary. And the best part is you gave it to me. You are the Willy Wonka to my Charlie, and I have a golden ticket to do whatever I damn well please. Your pride and your arrogance have put you in a position to fail. You’ve backed yourself into a corner and there’s really no way out. Sure, you’ll get your licks in. You’ll beat me down, I’ll beat you down. We will wage a war for the ages. And Hell, I will admit, you will push me to the edge of defeat. But then, it happens. Your pride kicks in. Overconfidence takes control, you enter cruise control, and I seize the opportunity. I end you. Story over, curtain closes, have a nice night. In your mind, you’ve already won. In reality, you have no chance. [/red]
Royal glares into the camera with heated intensity as he continues to speak.
[red] Royal: Right now Hell, you’re the resident monster. You’re the top dog. I may even venture to say that you’re the face of the company. But after Tuesday, after that face gets torn up a bit, it won’t be so pretty. After Tuesday, you won’t be that top dog. No, instead, after Tuesday, you will be nothing more than another notch in my belt. You will be nothing more than another dragon slayed by me. You can do your voodoo magic all you want. Conjure up as many demons as you can, but not even Satan himself can stand in my way. I am taking over this company Hell. AWR belongs to me, and you’ve made a grave mistake by opening your mouth and making yourself my opposition. This is a monarchy, and I have the throne. Those who oppose the king are beheaded. This is your fate Hell. And when I’m standing over your broken and bloody body, watching you twitch and convulse as I stand victorious with my foot planted firmly on your chest, just before you slip into the sweet escape of unconsciousness, I want you to remember this. YOUR blood is on YOUR hands. YOU brought this on YOU. YOUR pride, YOUR arrogance created YOUR demise. YOUR tragic flaw lead to YOUR tragic downfall. In a nutshell Hell, you have written your own tragic ending. [/red]
Royal lets out a faint, eerie laugh. He close his eyes, perhaps envisioning the massacre he hopes to cause Tuesday. He then continues to speak.
[red] Royal: Yes, the world is nothing more than a stage. And Hell, you, me, and everyone else, we are nothing more than players, pawns if you will. Everything in our lives has already been written by the ultimate play write. But Hell, what you need to realize is that I have the play write securely in my back pocket. That means I succeed, you fail. I win, you lose. It’s simply destiny. So come ready to fight Tuesday night, but be forewarned, your fate is in stone. It will rain blood Tuesday night. Your blood, my blood. But Hell, when the dust clears and the blood dries, it will be me standing tall. It will be my hand that is raised. I won’t let you win Hell, so don’t even worry about that. No, rather, pray to God, or Satan, or whomever you please to pray to that I am able to find it in my heart to let you survive. [/red]
With that, the spotlight shining on Royal goes out. The curtain slowly closes and the auditorium echoes with Royal’s evil laughter as the scene fades to black
[red] Royal: William Shakespeare once said “All the world’s a stage, and the men and women merely players…” [/red]
Royal stands up and begins roaming around the stage, speaking in almost a soliloquy.
[red] Royal: A wise man Shakespeare was, and as usual, his words were filled with truth. We are all but mere players in the great play that is life and we all have predetermined roles. The few, like myself, are chosen to be stars, the lead role if you will. Some get supporting roles. Most are given the pathetic, bottom feeding roles that the play could no doubt go on without. No matter what though, we all have roles. The AWR is a great cast, and this week, two of its biggest stars go head to head to determine just who the leading man in this production is. For this Tuesday at Crash TV, it is the brave and honorable Anthony Royal waging war with the diabolical, madman monster known as Hell. [/red]
Royal smirks at the mention of Hell. At this point, he stops wandering the stage and returns to his seat at the front of the stage, in the spotlight.
[red] Royal: Now, despite the idea that my previous words may have created, I myself am no theatre buff. No, rather Hell, you simply remind me of the great tragedies that Shakespeare famously wrote. Like Hamlet and Macbeth, you Hell are a great individual. Strong, cunning, brave. You have every trait that a person could desire. However, for all the great traits that you possess, there is one that supersedes them all. You Hell, are what the literature intellectuals call a tragic hero. Such incredible greatness, but one tragic flaw will lead to your untimely demise. For Hamlet it was indecisiveness and an inability to act. For Macbeth, it was incredible ambition. And for you Hell, it is an overabundance of pride. [/red]
Royal lets a smile take over his face, believing he has found Hell’s one weakness.
[red] Royal: Now Hell, you and I honestly don’t know each other that well, do we? Sure, we shared a company for a brief time in the NIWF, but besides the recent and brief incident in which my lead pipe smashed your demonic cranium, we really haven’t had many, if any encounters at all. Despite this Hell, you have seen my body of work, and you know the kind of demented and evil things I am capable of. Even a sadist like you can appreciate my taste for blood and the sheer level of danger one faces when standing in the corner opposite of me. This is why I was so taken aback when I learned that you actually had the audacity to challenge me to a match, and a no disqualification match at that. Why would a man as smart as you be willing to risk stepping into the ring with me when there are no rules in place to limit my viciousness? And that is when I answered my own question with a simple realization: You, Hell, have too much pride for your own good. Week after week, David Saturn sings your praises and verbally ejaculates at the mere sight of you. Week after week the inbred, half-wit fans chant your name and cheer you on. Week after week all anybody hears is Hell this Hell that. Hell is such a monster. Hell is so strong. Hell has great technical skills for a man his size. Hell is simple unstoppable. And while I do nothing but earn my accolades, as well jam a rusty nail into my ears so the noise stops, you let their chants and their praise go to your head. You let them swell your head like a carcass in intense heat. The great Hell has bought in to his own hype. Well guess what, I haven’t. You see Hell, maybe you can rest on your laurels and slide by on reputation alone when it comes to beating the rest of the “talent” around here, but that doesn’t work with me. Anthony Royal was made from a different mold, and I’m afraid you’re going to have to find that out the hard way come Crash TV. What is it Hell? You think because you’re big and tall and scary that I’m just going to roll over and let you have your way with me? Go ask Flammenkreig what big and tall and scary did for him. It got him a broken hand and a loss. And that was with rules. What do you think will happen to you when there is nothing to restrict me? If I want to smash your brains in, I can, and I will. If I feel like you shouldn’t be able to walk when the final bell rings, chances are, you won’t. You see Hell, I have free reign to do whatever I deem necessary. And the best part is you gave it to me. You are the Willy Wonka to my Charlie, and I have a golden ticket to do whatever I damn well please. Your pride and your arrogance have put you in a position to fail. You’ve backed yourself into a corner and there’s really no way out. Sure, you’ll get your licks in. You’ll beat me down, I’ll beat you down. We will wage a war for the ages. And Hell, I will admit, you will push me to the edge of defeat. But then, it happens. Your pride kicks in. Overconfidence takes control, you enter cruise control, and I seize the opportunity. I end you. Story over, curtain closes, have a nice night. In your mind, you’ve already won. In reality, you have no chance. [/red]
Royal glares into the camera with heated intensity as he continues to speak.
[red] Royal: Right now Hell, you’re the resident monster. You’re the top dog. I may even venture to say that you’re the face of the company. But after Tuesday, after that face gets torn up a bit, it won’t be so pretty. After Tuesday, you won’t be that top dog. No, instead, after Tuesday, you will be nothing more than another notch in my belt. You will be nothing more than another dragon slayed by me. You can do your voodoo magic all you want. Conjure up as many demons as you can, but not even Satan himself can stand in my way. I am taking over this company Hell. AWR belongs to me, and you’ve made a grave mistake by opening your mouth and making yourself my opposition. This is a monarchy, and I have the throne. Those who oppose the king are beheaded. This is your fate Hell. And when I’m standing over your broken and bloody body, watching you twitch and convulse as I stand victorious with my foot planted firmly on your chest, just before you slip into the sweet escape of unconsciousness, I want you to remember this. YOUR blood is on YOUR hands. YOU brought this on YOU. YOUR pride, YOUR arrogance created YOUR demise. YOUR tragic flaw lead to YOUR tragic downfall. In a nutshell Hell, you have written your own tragic ending. [/red]
Royal lets out a faint, eerie laugh. He close his eyes, perhaps envisioning the massacre he hopes to cause Tuesday. He then continues to speak.
[red] Royal: Yes, the world is nothing more than a stage. And Hell, you, me, and everyone else, we are nothing more than players, pawns if you will. Everything in our lives has already been written by the ultimate play write. But Hell, what you need to realize is that I have the play write securely in my back pocket. That means I succeed, you fail. I win, you lose. It’s simply destiny. So come ready to fight Tuesday night, but be forewarned, your fate is in stone. It will rain blood Tuesday night. Your blood, my blood. But Hell, when the dust clears and the blood dries, it will be me standing tall. It will be my hand that is raised. I won’t let you win Hell, so don’t even worry about that. No, rather, pray to God, or Satan, or whomever you please to pray to that I am able to find it in my heart to let you survive. [/red]
With that, the spotlight shining on Royal goes out. The curtain slowly closes and the auditorium echoes with Royal’s evil laughter as the scene fades to black