| Only Dreamers Dream; [SD 27 (1/2)] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 30 2008, 05:32 AM (50 Views) | |
| Tsalmavet | May 30 2008, 05:32 AM Post #1 |
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Dark Shadows
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Hush little baby, don't say a word...Morretti is going to buy you an opponent. If he ups and leave, Morretti's going to buy you a title. Travis sits in his condo, on the couch with son Trenton in his arms. "Daddy, tell me a bedtime story, please," his son says with excitement. Even with all the aches and pains, from his drastic night in London, Travis hides his pain to spend time with his son. "What story do you want to hear, my son?" After finding out about his son, Travis has not been given much time to spend with his son. The world tour is a stress on his fiancee and child, but he attempts to take flights home at his own expense. Trenton looks at his father, and ponders what he wants to hear. "Momma said you had all types of stories, just for me to ask for one daddy!" Travis laughs, thinking hard about what he should reply with. Remembering his child's age, and the fact he has an active imagination, Travis ponders a story for his son. "Lay your head down my child, I have the perfect story for you..." There once was a man, who spent most of his days dreaming...He has never known what reality is, for he is to blind to see what lies before him. His whole career is based on a dream. One day, he laid himself down to sleep, closed his eyes and waited for his dream to start. This man became a superstar, like he had always wanted. The fans cheered him, the kids wore shirts supporting him. He soon won gold, and felt like he was on top of his dream, or as he thinks, his world... When he was about to reach his ultimate crowning point...He had to share that moment with two others. Slowly, his wonderful dream, slowly started to turn into a nightmare. His world was now being invaded, but others who he did not want there. Though two maybe jumping in, one is about to snatch him out.. Travis looks down at his son, who is sound asleep in his arms. Slowly, he lifts up his son, so he can remove himself from the couch. He gently lays Trenton back down, trying not to disturb him in any fashion. He grabs the throw blanket from the back of the couch, and lays it over his son, kissing him on the temple. Grabbing the remote from the table, he dims the lights, and steps back, just watching his baby boy sound asleep. I could come to realize a lot. I'm a lower class talent, playing with the rich snobs, who all think they are better than me. I was not given the keys to daddy's Jag, and I was never dressed in the latest Gucci fashion. I have no Rolex watches, or a house the size of a school. Ross is right, this is not my league. The country club is for him and Night. The fantasy living, the sipping fancy wine from crystal glasses, NOT ME! I am just merely a poor boy, low self esteem, and a mind that cannot see out past his own bedroom window. I STILL SEE FURTHER THAN MY OPPONENTS! Ross, you are too busy with your head up your own ass to see truth. So sit down and shut the fuck up. Real reason why he has a broken neck? Cody slapped his ass, his cheeks squeezed, the bone snapped, and look at where he is today...I do not have to justify my reasons for being in this match. Night cannot stay awake long enough to maintain a lead on anyone, and you've recently returned. I busted my ass, just as you, just as Night, in a match that put us here. It could have been Gunner Lang getting the shot, with us out the picture. And let's face it Ross, your luck with Gunner, is not very good! I could bitch, and I could belly ache, but yet, I would just be you. What's the point in being like some washed up broken neck reject like yourself? And no, I do not need to wait for your reply, the answer is, THERE IS NONE! You want this shot bad enough? Take it, don't bitch to me about how it's yours and we are zeros in your way. We have gold, you have a broken neck, who looks like a zero now? I promised Paige a victory, I gave her just that. I promised you all a surprise, and I gave you exactly that. While you are busy being spanked by Cody, I was busy master minding an idea to fuck everyone over. Not just the opposing team, but my own. You're simply lucky I did leave you hanging after that, "I can do it by myself," rant you gave in the locker room. No one stole the glory from me. I had the last laugh at Retribution, Bad Religion...I have the numbers, you have NOTHING! Keep the brace on kid, you're not ready to play on my level yet! Wake up sleepy head...Did you have a good nap? I hope so. Did your dreams become a nightmare? That was the plan, it's not morning yet, I just like disturbing people while they dream. The mighty Night. Sadly, not the BLACK kNIGHT! International Champion, man of mystery. Yet, just another face in the crowd. A face we must all be thankful that he keeps covered up. Do not think this is done out of disrespect, because I owe you respect Night. But there is a difference between showing you respect, and laying down for you. I respect you enough, to hurt you. To know you are the biggest threat in this whole promotion. Stevo and Night, the two men who could conquer anything, the two men who must be put to sleep. And this is not a sleep you will dream in Night, this is one you will not wake up from... Am I cocky enough to predict the future again, and promise a win? No, that I am not. I know when I enter Showdown, I have a target on me. If it's not Hollywood Duds, or Pole Smoking Paige, it's you, it's Ross, it's a shot at the prize we all want. Each of us, wants to dethrone the king, but only one of us will get the chance. We can make idol threats, and trash each other until we are blue in the face, the matter still remains, it boils down to the in ring skills we have, and the limits we are willing to break, in order to TAKE THAT SHOT! I look at you Night, I know you are willing to put yourself on the line, just to obtain status of number one contender. I've seen the battles you and White shared. I paid more attention than most, and I admit. I am doubting my chances. Being a man who loves the thrill of being an underdog, I will safely say this...You have nothing to worry about before our match Night. I want you at your best. That way, if I lose, I loss to the best. And if I win, I BEAT THE BEST! I do not want any marks beside this one, I want to see who can do it, and who will fail trying... I am not the favor, for what I have done to the ignorant bastards in the dreaded cesspool of talent, I am hated. For that, I smile, I laugh, and I may shed a tear at my peers not accepting me. However, do not think for one minute, I did this to cause a scene, and leave you empty handed. When I fire a gun, a bullet is unleashed, and something feels the wrath of it's blow. I sided with a Morretti, because unlike many who try and try, but never succeed, I've got the full coverage insurance to promise me my time is not wasted in this land of useless fools. Let's just say, I'm that nice car you drive around in, but in order to know it's protected, you pile on the insurance, to ensure if a crazy jumps lanes and knocks on your door, in a day or two, it will be like new again. I'll get to where I need to be, Bad Religion is the insurance policy to keep me there. And for those who attempt to come over on me, won't end well for you. I do not care if I am booed, or if I am hated. I have spent my life hating myself, and hating everyone else. What does it matter if the feeling is mutual? Hate me, dream of seeing my blood on your hands. Think of what you could do to me, and what torture you could put me through. I do not run away with my tail tuck between my legs yelping like some puppy you just punished for pissing on the floor. I'll cock my leg, piss on your favorite chair, and sit there. Wagging my tail with pride, showing you, I DID IT, AND I AM NOT SCARED OF WHAT YOU WILL DO TO ME FOR IT! Grab the newspaper, roll it up, and swing. Just do not blame me for when I attack. I make the rules I play by, and it does not matter who is offended by the actions of those rules. Paige was a bitch with an itch, and I scratched it in so many ways, I almost contracted herpes from her. When she asked for my hand, I never promised her my services was for her, but for a victory. So run around thinking my Ace was really a deuce dressed up. It's not I getting fooled at Showdown, no matter what anyone may think. Jump me, beat me senseless. Verbally abuse me and Bad Religion, and throw us out the backdoor, so we can scratch and claw at it, attempting to get back in. Honestly, I do not care. Because you expect to surprise me, or even us, and there is none. We're the ones playing chess, you're just pawns and one lonely kNight, on our board. We have already dictated the moves, and made counters. So fuck you, and fuck them. This is my check mate! And the victory is mine! Travis walks over to the couch, as he scoops up his son, Trenton. He lifts up the child's body, and cuddles him against his chest. Slowly he walks towards a back bedroom, as the scene fades to dismay. |
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8:38 AM Jul 11