Post by TAFKA Cyaneyed on Feb 12, 2006 0:26:27 GMT -5
..][..Trees...As far as the eye can see. These are the focus as cameras open up on a fresh scene, after a brief promo from an up and comer. The trees stand in a haze of radiant orange light, casting long, sinuous shadows across eachother. The trees are in an organised pattern, appearing in diagonal lines, and appear to be birch. A figure walks in front of the nearest tree, and looks vaguely familiar. Long, blonde hair billows about his features, and he wears a smart leather jacket. Shades protect him from the sunlight. Cameras follow the man as he walks past, and the horizon can be seen. The sun is setting, explaining the odd orange hue about the place. The figure approaches a car, and a dirt road stretches either side of it. The car is a sleek, red number, possibly a Chrysler, or something more up market. The camera closes in, and a Lotus badge can be seen. The figure gets into his car, and sits, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel..][..
Figure: Sunlight...Why couldn't I meet someone more normal...
..][..The figure taps his fingers a couple more times, then makes a fist with his right hand, bouncing it non violently off the top of the steering wheel. He rests his head back into the seat, letting out a small sigh, then snaps forward, clicking his stereo into life, and selecting a track. The monitor is within shot, and the track playing can be seen..][..
..][..The music is quiet, and almost soothing. The viewer had almost expected some popular rock tune, or maybe a rap song, as was the norm in wrestling these days, but the figure selected a Tori Amos track. Perhaps in defiance of normalcy, or perhaps just through personal taste. The sun is now low enough in the sky for night time to spread its claws across the forest, and the scene is becoming a dark one. A small rumbling becomes emanent, and the figure turns to his left. The camera pans left also, and a familiar figure lifts one leg from a Harley Davidson, jumping heavily from it and audibly landing on the dusty dirt road. The figure gets out of his car, and greets the man. Cameras get a decent shot, and Method Cobra is obvious as the biker. The two men clasp hands in metaphorical brotherhood, and each nods respectfully at the other..][..
Method Cobra: Ah Cyaneyed it been a while. What up on you man.
..][..Fans take in the name...Cyaneyed. Cyanide?..][..
Cyaneyed: Hey Method. I'm having a great time, I've been sat in my car waiting for you for about three hours now.
Method Cobra: Oh! I'm sorry I din'dt arrive sooner at this.But I'm din'dt leave this home until the dark. Is a tradition in this area of: Salem.
Cyaneyed: Relax, relax...I'm just ribbing you man. I've only been here about twenty minutes. So why don't they come out until night?
Method Cobra: Ah! No it not this locals. But they believe this superstition of: Witches. That they approach this persons in the night time. So they appeared only in the night.
Cyaneyed: So..er..you brought me out in the witching hour why?
Method Cobra: Hehe, is only on a full moon. I'm just try to scare you man. But this locals din'dt like my appearance. Last time Im here I eat too much poutine in this 'House of Salem French eaterie' and I went mad when this restaurant it closed.
Cyaneyed: It's a wonder they serve poutine anywhere when you're about. So anyway, where are we going?
Method Cobra: Well I sort out you debut at this fed of VWA. Is a good place where I hone this skill. But Cyaneyed I gotta ask you if you ready to make this debut at Professional wrestling? Did you do a training cos I know it your first fed.
Cyaneyed: Oh I'm ready, don't worry about me. I got involved in a lot of indies back in England. I was trained by one of the best in the industry.
Method Cobra: Oh this man Corpse? Or it Gomez?
Cyaneyed: Yeah, Corpse. Anyway, we should concentrate on the present and not the past. Where are we headed?
Method Cobra: Well me Im take you to meet this friend of mine this name it Ray Rougeau. He was one man who train me when I make this mark of my debut.
Cyaneyed: Ah, Ray Rougeau. I'm familiar with the name. One of the Quebecers right?
Method Cobra: Hell yeah at this. It my inspiration tag team and of my native.
Cyaneyed: Want me to follow you?
Method Cobra: Yeah is just this way man. I try to drive slow at my bike for you hehe. S'o you din'dt bite this dust.
Cyaneyed: Pfft.
..][..Method Cobra mounts his bike, and starts revving it up as Cyaneyed gets into his car, and starts fiddling with his stereo, until he is happy with his choice. As it's made, he puts his car into gear, and speeds off behind Method Cobra, and the camera points to the stereo as the scene fades out..][..
..][..Some time later, cameras catch up with Cyaneyed oncemore. He is still driving, and wears a nonplussed expression on his face, as the highway ahead is bland and featureless, but for reams of sand dunes in all directions. Quite where they are at this point is not known. Method Cobra is still riding in front, at a fair distance from Cyaneyed's car. Cyaneyed reverts his attention to the road, and makes a thumbs up sign over his shoulder. Cyaneyed frowns, unsure of what the gesture refers to. He squints into the distance, and spots a small garage up ahead. Method Cobra leans to the left, and pulls in. Cyaneyed pulls into the forecourt, takes a glance at his oil meter, and doesn't pull up next to a pump, instead parks between some roughly shaded white lines on the cracked concrete floor. He gets out, and walks over to Method Cobra, who is filling up his motorcycle, and leans against a pump..][..
Method Cobra: Man it f**ked at this. My gas it nearly expire at my bike. Goddamn. And man this pump it din'dt work!
..][..Method Cobra steps back and kicks the gas pump, but to no avail. Somewhere in his mind he probably expected his act of violence on an American product to put some Quebec class into the thing and force it to work. Unfortunately, the kick resulted in a sharp pain in his metatarsel and not much else. Method Cobra grabs the handlebars of his bike, and pushes it towards the next pump, hobble-hopping towards it. Cyaneyed watches him momentarily, unable to do anything but laugh at Method Cobra as he struggled to push his bike with one foot. As Method Cobra reaches the pump, Cyaneyed averts his gaze to the station itself. If the condition of the forecourt was bad, the building certainly did nothing to up the standard of the place. The station was wooden, and plastered over on the outside. The plaster had all but peeled away in most places, and the wood was not the ideal kind to stand up to bad weather. It was damp, and looked it like only the smallest amount of impact would obliterate the whole structure. There were a couple of stands outside the station, both stood in front of tall glass swinging doors. One was empty, and the other had a large orange 'Rolling Stones' poster. The poster advertised a gig on 13/04/78. Cyaneyed's eyes crumpled, as if squinting to check he had read right. His features unclenched themselves, and he raised his eyebrows a little. He was reminded of road movies, and considered how far this establishment was from civilisation. And then he remembered the empty gas pump. His eyes bulged a little, as he turned to Method Cobra..][..
Cyaneyed: That one isn't working, is it?
Method Cobra: No it f*** Goddamnit I'm piss at this station man
Cyaneyed: Uhh...I dont think this place has been used for some time, man.
Method Cobra: What? Is a joke?
Cyaneyed: No, look at the date on that poster over there.
Method Cobra: F*** this dinosaur man I'm din'dt care of them
Cyaneyed: No...come on Simon man, use your noggin. Read the date at the bottom.
Method Cobra: Oh! Ah! Oh!
Cyaneyed: Yeah. So unless this establishment has a fan of archaic and frankly shit rock music, I'd say it isn't open for business, nor has it been for some time.
Method Cobra: Man this music it not sh*t im a fans of this.
Cyaneyed: Fuck off. It's crap.Anyway, where are we going to get your gas from?
Method Cobra: Well man it your opinion this and me im dunno but my bike it f*** if we din'dt get to this gas man cos im empty.
Cyaneyed: How far can you get on what's left?
Method Cobra: About 3 mile but is not enough. And I'm din'dt bring a spare can for this case. Of empty.
Cyaneyed: Well shit. Looks like you're riding with me. Next station is about 30 miles right?
Method Cobra: No man about 200. It why Im piss at this.
Cyaneyed: You're kidding right? I dont even have that much left. Why the hell are garages so far apart? We need to find some oil.
Method Cobra: Yeah man is true cos I din'dt want to miss this event of VWA and for you it your debut at this.
Cyaneyed: Let's take a look around this place.
Method Cobra: Is a good idea. Me I'm check this back at this.
Cyaneyed: Alright.
..][..Method Cobra hobbles around the corner of the station, and out of site. Cyaneyed walks towards the glass doors, tilting his head to one side, peering through the glass. As he getts closer, it becomes obvious how dusted over they are. He puts a hand on the glass, and slides it across, making an arc in the dust, and looks through, but the opposite side of the glass has been equally afflicted. He steps back, looking for another entrance, but none seems apparent. He looks down at the door handles, and his mind logically tells him the door will be locked. Despite his common sense, he grabs the handle and pulls it down, then pulls backwards. His effort meets nothing but resistance, as expected, so he pushes the door in frustration...and, unexpectedly, the door cracks and swings open, the hinges scratching and groaning at being disturbed after so long. Cyaneyed blinks in surprise, and shrugs, ducking his head and sliding through the door, which stuck halfway through opening, probably due to rust. He looks around, and sees nothing but darkness. He fumbles around, and flicks a light switch illuminating the room..][..
THUMP
..][..Cyaneyed snaps his vision upwards as he hears the noise, and a door just ahead of him has opened in his direction, from behind the cashiers desk. Method Cobra comes stomping through, angrily, and pushes the old fashioned cash register on the floor, following up by angrily flailing his arms around at empty shelving. Aside from the cashiers register, this place has been well cleared out. A few empty 'Hula Hoops' packets lie by the door, crumpled and decayed, or at least looking that way. Cyaneyed glares at Method Cobra with a look of displeasue, having been startled by the loud entrance of MC..][..
Cyaneyed: Do you have to do that?
Method Cobra: Im f*** piss man this place it empty we're f*** at this
Cyaneyed: Calm down..
Method Cobra: I'm calm man what wrong?
Cyaneyed: Yeah, sure you are calm. Well if there's no oil or gas around here, there's got to be a phone. I tried mine before I met you and I don't have ROAM out here.
Method Cobra: ROAM what it this?
Cyaneyed: My SIM card is
Method Cobra: You bring me a card?
Cyaneyed: No, listen. My SI..phone card is still on the same network I had in England, and can't pick up a signal out here.
Method Cobra: Oh! Oh! Oh!
Cyaneyed: Have you got a phone on you?
Method Cobra: Yeah man let me check this reception.
..][..Method Cobra checks his phone, and promptly rings Ray Rougeau, explaining the situation and hanging up, the whole conversation occuring en francais..][..
Cyaneyed: So?
Method Cobra: Man Ray will send this sons to bring gas to this station. He will arrived in 12:30 AM.
..][..Cyaneyed checks his watch. 22:03. He sighs, and rests the back of his head on the door frame..][..
Cyaneyed: Well that's just brilliant. It's dark outside and there's nothing but a lightbulb and an empty cash desk in here. What the hell are we going to do for two and a half hours?
Method Cobra: Well I guess we could discussed this match for you in VWA. I think you face this nemesis of me it name Shadow. Let me check this pad.
Cyaneyed: Okay. Shadow? What kind of name is that?
Method Cobra: Oh! Is not my nemesis Shadow. Is a new Shadow at this.
Cyaneyed: New Shadow? How many Shadows are there?
Method Cobra: Three in the VWA that I know. Is not an original name this.
Cyaneyed: So what do you know about him?
Method Cobra: I dunno. Is 2D to me. Just a name. I dunno this man cause I only see my nemesis and this NA champ of the name Rev. Shadow. S'o I dunno man Im sorry at this.
Cyaneyed: That's okay. Well I'm guessing I wont have time to tra...
[/size]Figure: Sunlight...Why couldn't I meet someone more normal...
..][..The figure taps his fingers a couple more times, then makes a fist with his right hand, bouncing it non violently off the top of the steering wheel. He rests his head back into the seat, letting out a small sigh, then snaps forward, clicking his stereo into life, and selecting a track. The monitor is within shot, and the track playing can be seen..][..
..][..The music is quiet, and almost soothing. The viewer had almost expected some popular rock tune, or maybe a rap song, as was the norm in wrestling these days, but the figure selected a Tori Amos track. Perhaps in defiance of normalcy, or perhaps just through personal taste. The sun is now low enough in the sky for night time to spread its claws across the forest, and the scene is becoming a dark one. A small rumbling becomes emanent, and the figure turns to his left. The camera pans left also, and a familiar figure lifts one leg from a Harley Davidson, jumping heavily from it and audibly landing on the dusty dirt road. The figure gets out of his car, and greets the man. Cameras get a decent shot, and Method Cobra is obvious as the biker. The two men clasp hands in metaphorical brotherhood, and each nods respectfully at the other..][..
Method Cobra: Ah Cyaneyed it been a while. What up on you man.
..][..Fans take in the name...Cyaneyed. Cyanide?..][..
Cyaneyed: Hey Method. I'm having a great time, I've been sat in my car waiting for you for about three hours now.
Method Cobra: Oh! I'm sorry I din'dt arrive sooner at this.But I'm din'dt leave this home until the dark. Is a tradition in this area of: Salem.
Cyaneyed: Relax, relax...I'm just ribbing you man. I've only been here about twenty minutes. So why don't they come out until night?
Method Cobra: Ah! No it not this locals. But they believe this superstition of: Witches. That they approach this persons in the night time. So they appeared only in the night.
Cyaneyed: So..er..you brought me out in the witching hour why?
Method Cobra: Hehe, is only on a full moon. I'm just try to scare you man. But this locals din'dt like my appearance. Last time Im here I eat too much poutine in this 'House of Salem French eaterie' and I went mad when this restaurant it closed.
Cyaneyed: It's a wonder they serve poutine anywhere when you're about. So anyway, where are we going?
Method Cobra: Well I sort out you debut at this fed of VWA. Is a good place where I hone this skill. But Cyaneyed I gotta ask you if you ready to make this debut at Professional wrestling? Did you do a training cos I know it your first fed.
Cyaneyed: Oh I'm ready, don't worry about me. I got involved in a lot of indies back in England. I was trained by one of the best in the industry.
Method Cobra: Oh this man Corpse? Or it Gomez?
Cyaneyed: Yeah, Corpse. Anyway, we should concentrate on the present and not the past. Where are we headed?
Method Cobra: Well me Im take you to meet this friend of mine this name it Ray Rougeau. He was one man who train me when I make this mark of my debut.
Cyaneyed: Ah, Ray Rougeau. I'm familiar with the name. One of the Quebecers right?
Method Cobra: Hell yeah at this. It my inspiration tag team and of my native.
Cyaneyed: Want me to follow you?
Method Cobra: Yeah is just this way man. I try to drive slow at my bike for you hehe. S'o you din'dt bite this dust.
Cyaneyed: Pfft.
..][..Method Cobra mounts his bike, and starts revving it up as Cyaneyed gets into his car, and starts fiddling with his stereo, until he is happy with his choice. As it's made, he puts his car into gear, and speeds off behind Method Cobra, and the camera points to the stereo as the scene fades out..][..
..][..Some time later, cameras catch up with Cyaneyed oncemore. He is still driving, and wears a nonplussed expression on his face, as the highway ahead is bland and featureless, but for reams of sand dunes in all directions. Quite where they are at this point is not known. Method Cobra is still riding in front, at a fair distance from Cyaneyed's car. Cyaneyed reverts his attention to the road, and makes a thumbs up sign over his shoulder. Cyaneyed frowns, unsure of what the gesture refers to. He squints into the distance, and spots a small garage up ahead. Method Cobra leans to the left, and pulls in. Cyaneyed pulls into the forecourt, takes a glance at his oil meter, and doesn't pull up next to a pump, instead parks between some roughly shaded white lines on the cracked concrete floor. He gets out, and walks over to Method Cobra, who is filling up his motorcycle, and leans against a pump..][..
Method Cobra: Man it f**ked at this. My gas it nearly expire at my bike. Goddamn. And man this pump it din'dt work!
..][..Method Cobra steps back and kicks the gas pump, but to no avail. Somewhere in his mind he probably expected his act of violence on an American product to put some Quebec class into the thing and force it to work. Unfortunately, the kick resulted in a sharp pain in his metatarsel and not much else. Method Cobra grabs the handlebars of his bike, and pushes it towards the next pump, hobble-hopping towards it. Cyaneyed watches him momentarily, unable to do anything but laugh at Method Cobra as he struggled to push his bike with one foot. As Method Cobra reaches the pump, Cyaneyed averts his gaze to the station itself. If the condition of the forecourt was bad, the building certainly did nothing to up the standard of the place. The station was wooden, and plastered over on the outside. The plaster had all but peeled away in most places, and the wood was not the ideal kind to stand up to bad weather. It was damp, and looked it like only the smallest amount of impact would obliterate the whole structure. There were a couple of stands outside the station, both stood in front of tall glass swinging doors. One was empty, and the other had a large orange 'Rolling Stones' poster. The poster advertised a gig on 13/04/78. Cyaneyed's eyes crumpled, as if squinting to check he had read right. His features unclenched themselves, and he raised his eyebrows a little. He was reminded of road movies, and considered how far this establishment was from civilisation. And then he remembered the empty gas pump. His eyes bulged a little, as he turned to Method Cobra..][..
Cyaneyed: That one isn't working, is it?
Method Cobra: No it f*** Goddamnit I'm piss at this station man
Cyaneyed: Uhh...I dont think this place has been used for some time, man.
Method Cobra: What? Is a joke?
Cyaneyed: No, look at the date on that poster over there.
Method Cobra: F*** this dinosaur man I'm din'dt care of them
Cyaneyed: No...come on Simon man, use your noggin. Read the date at the bottom.
Method Cobra: Oh! Ah! Oh!
Cyaneyed: Yeah. So unless this establishment has a fan of archaic and frankly shit rock music, I'd say it isn't open for business, nor has it been for some time.
Method Cobra: Man this music it not sh*t im a fans of this.
Cyaneyed: Fuck off. It's crap.Anyway, where are we going to get your gas from?
Method Cobra: Well man it your opinion this and me im dunno but my bike it f*** if we din'dt get to this gas man cos im empty.
Cyaneyed: How far can you get on what's left?
Method Cobra: About 3 mile but is not enough. And I'm din'dt bring a spare can for this case. Of empty.
Cyaneyed: Well shit. Looks like you're riding with me. Next station is about 30 miles right?
Method Cobra: No man about 200. It why Im piss at this.
Cyaneyed: You're kidding right? I dont even have that much left. Why the hell are garages so far apart? We need to find some oil.
Method Cobra: Yeah man is true cos I din'dt want to miss this event of VWA and for you it your debut at this.
Cyaneyed: Let's take a look around this place.
Method Cobra: Is a good idea. Me I'm check this back at this.
Cyaneyed: Alright.
..][..Method Cobra hobbles around the corner of the station, and out of site. Cyaneyed walks towards the glass doors, tilting his head to one side, peering through the glass. As he getts closer, it becomes obvious how dusted over they are. He puts a hand on the glass, and slides it across, making an arc in the dust, and looks through, but the opposite side of the glass has been equally afflicted. He steps back, looking for another entrance, but none seems apparent. He looks down at the door handles, and his mind logically tells him the door will be locked. Despite his common sense, he grabs the handle and pulls it down, then pulls backwards. His effort meets nothing but resistance, as expected, so he pushes the door in frustration...and, unexpectedly, the door cracks and swings open, the hinges scratching and groaning at being disturbed after so long. Cyaneyed blinks in surprise, and shrugs, ducking his head and sliding through the door, which stuck halfway through opening, probably due to rust. He looks around, and sees nothing but darkness. He fumbles around, and flicks a light switch illuminating the room..][..
THUMP
..][..Cyaneyed snaps his vision upwards as he hears the noise, and a door just ahead of him has opened in his direction, from behind the cashiers desk. Method Cobra comes stomping through, angrily, and pushes the old fashioned cash register on the floor, following up by angrily flailing his arms around at empty shelving. Aside from the cashiers register, this place has been well cleared out. A few empty 'Hula Hoops' packets lie by the door, crumpled and decayed, or at least looking that way. Cyaneyed glares at Method Cobra with a look of displeasue, having been startled by the loud entrance of MC..][..
Cyaneyed: Do you have to do that?
Method Cobra: Im f*** piss man this place it empty we're f*** at this
Cyaneyed: Calm down..
Method Cobra: I'm calm man what wrong?
Cyaneyed: Yeah, sure you are calm. Well if there's no oil or gas around here, there's got to be a phone. I tried mine before I met you and I don't have ROAM out here.
Method Cobra: ROAM what it this?
Cyaneyed: My SIM card is
Method Cobra: You bring me a card?
Cyaneyed: No, listen. My SI..phone card is still on the same network I had in England, and can't pick up a signal out here.
Method Cobra: Oh! Oh! Oh!
Cyaneyed: Have you got a phone on you?
Method Cobra: Yeah man let me check this reception.
..][..Method Cobra checks his phone, and promptly rings Ray Rougeau, explaining the situation and hanging up, the whole conversation occuring en francais..][..
Cyaneyed: So?
Method Cobra: Man Ray will send this sons to bring gas to this station. He will arrived in 12:30 AM.
..][..Cyaneyed checks his watch. 22:03. He sighs, and rests the back of his head on the door frame..][..
Cyaneyed: Well that's just brilliant. It's dark outside and there's nothing but a lightbulb and an empty cash desk in here. What the hell are we going to do for two and a half hours?
Method Cobra: Well I guess we could discussed this match for you in VWA. I think you face this nemesis of me it name Shadow. Let me check this pad.
Cyaneyed: Okay. Shadow? What kind of name is that?
Method Cobra: Oh! Is not my nemesis Shadow. Is a new Shadow at this.
Cyaneyed: New Shadow? How many Shadows are there?
Method Cobra: Three in the VWA that I know. Is not an original name this.
Cyaneyed: So what do you know about him?
Method Cobra: I dunno. Is 2D to me. Just a name. I dunno this man cause I only see my nemesis and this NA champ of the name Rev. Shadow. S'o I dunno man Im sorry at this.
Cyaneyed: That's okay. Well I'm guessing I wont have time to tra...
[/color]
Voice: Goddamn right!
..][..Cyaneyed looks at Method Cobra quickly, and slips outside. Morbid Angel is sat in the driver's seat of Cyaneyed's car, and sees Cyaneyed and Method Cobra emerge..][..
Morbid Angel: Nice wheels, bitch!
Cyaneyed: What the f..
Morbid Angel: FUCK! As in...GOOD FUCKING BYE!
..][..Morbid Angel slams the car into gear, and speeds off, with 'Te Quiero Puta' playing at full volume..][..
Cyaneyed: *silence* ............Who the Hell was that?
Method Cobra: It my goddamn nemesis
Cyaneyed: Shadow?
Method Cobra: No Morbid Angel.
Cyaneyed: Ok you have too many nemesi. I think that's the plu...who cares?! I need my car back!
Method Cobra: I know man but my bike is empty so you gotta be calm and we will found this.
Cyaneyed: ............................................Well one thing is for sure, I'm bloody pissed off now. And that can only be good heading into a match....right?
..][..Cyaneyed grins, as the transmission fades..][..
TBC[/center][/color]
