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An old poem...plus more of the same; RP 2 for Showdown #029
Topic Started: Jun 13 2008, 05:20 PM (78 Views)
Evil Incarnate
sVo Contender
[ *  * ]
OOC Note: I got permission from Steven Steele to use the guy that is at the end of the roleplay.


Ten little Indians standing in a line, one toddled home and then there were nine.

The scene opens to Drew Carrig. His face is white, painted. Like a demon from hell ready to take another soul. He is sitting in a chair and is looking directly ahead. The camera turns to see what he is looking at but all we see is a door and what sounds like gargling.

I kill myself every day once or twice. Not in the physical mind you, but in the meta-physical. Where it truly matters, each day my spirit is reaped of life. Not by gun, or rope but by continuing this futile existence. Does this sound familiar Mr. Steele? I am merely pulling what you seem to do so often. Steven Steele, you sound like a broken record. You tell me what your going to do…and then the next day tell your brother Seth the exact same thing. I figure that everyone understood it the first time, even your incestual brother Seth..but then the true reason came to me as to why you seem to be reiterating yourself time and time again.

Bags are evident underneath Carrig’s eyes. His eyes are deep set, and we can see the storm that rages within.

Nine little Indians swinging on a gate, one tumbled off and then there were eight.


A pause.

I hear the desperation in your voice, Steven. You are not only trying to convince me of your superiority but your trying to convince yourself. I can hear the self-doubt that comes deep from within when you utter every word. You are tired of being underrated. Tired of being under appreciated here in the SVO. You speak of the past but rarely mention the future. I think we both know why that is.

A sigh escapes from Drew Carrig.

Eight little Indians gayest under heaven, one went to sleep and then there were seven.


Drew Carrig runs a hand across his tired face, and then through his hair. He is a total emotion wreck but tries his damndest not to show it. Near the front, a patch of gray seems to be starting.

There is not future for you Steven and you and I both know it. You were successful once Steven. You mention past World Titles, past this and past that. To me those mean nothing. I've won more World Titles than all of your title runs combined. This isn't about titles though, this is about you and me. This about four years of hatred and deception that is all building up to one final culmination on Showdown. After I decimate your very existence, I do not want to hear any excuses. We all know about your excuses Steven and none of them will fly with me.

No laugh.

Six little Indians kicking all alive, one kicked the bucket and then there were five.

Nothing shows in Drew’s eyes.

Your favorite always seemed to be that "I have too much on my mind" or "these damn injuries." I've got news for you Steven, we all fight injured whether it be physically or mentally. I am about as mentally injured as it gets. Imagine the broken neck of the mind. However, we all go into the ring knowing that we will be hurt. Yet, we enter anyway. Steven you too are injured mentally. This feeling of knowing your going into the ring with the one man you can never claim a legitimate victory over, even when I was “normal.” Even when I had Stacie and Kerry holding me back from showing my true hatred and anger towards this world.

Drew bows his head.

Five little Indians on a cellar door, one tumbled in and then there were four.

That gargling again is heard in the background.

If you had difficulty in years past, what are you going to do against me now? I do not fear pain. I do not fear blood. I do not fear, fear itself. What can you possibly do to me Steven, that will cause me to lay down or cause me to submit?

A cold blank stare hits us from the dark green eyes of Drew Carrig.

Four little Indians up on a spree, one he got fuddled and then there were three.


Drew looks skywards.

Steven, I must admit though, I am already starting to look ahead past you. I already know what you offer. You have not improved one bit in the four years this rivalry has lasted. I on the other hand, have grown immensely and even by talking, I have shown my dominance over you. You are the least of my worries Steven, as I have a far greater plan for the SVO than just defeating you.

Another sigh.

Three little Injuns out in a canoe, one tumbled overboard and then there were two.


The beginnings of dawn begin to peak over the horizon.

What is there left to say? What else must I do in order to earn respect here in SVO? Where is my name in lights? Where is my dream? Four men have entered the ring against me and four men have walked out a shell of their former selves. I’ve defeated new-comers and I’ve defeated a former champion. On Sunday I will end the career of a former nemesis that has been four years in the making, and what does it gather? What will be my reward SVO? What will be my reward Ms. President? How many people will I need to destroy to get what I want here in SVO…when will my dominance come?

The sun begins to shed light on the forest.

Two little Indians fooling with a gun, one shot the other and then there was one.


With light shining on him, Drew Carrig looks toward the sun. His back towards that door. He actually begins to stand and walk towards the door.

All alone. I’m all alone in my tower and sitting on the proverbial throne. No one to compare myself to. There is no challenge here in the SVO for "Evil Incarnate." I have secluded myself within a wall. Until somebody can step up and give me a real challenge, that is where I will stay until somebody is man enough to face me inside of the ring...or in the street...or anywhere they think they will have the chance to finish me off.

Drew Carrig now smiles almost as if to enjoy the fact that he knows he is as good as he truly feels.

One little Indian living all alone, he went off and hung himself.


Drew Carrig opens the door really quickly and as the camera pans we see somebody familiar on the other side of the door. Seth, the brother of Steven Steele bound and gagged. Carrig quickly steps to the other side of the door and brings the camera up to his face.

So this comes full circle back to you Steven and give you a little recap. I've known my whole life that my heart was filled with nothing but hate. I know who I am Steven. I’ve always known. My question to you is this…do you?

A chuckle from Carrig as he shuts the door in front of him. After a few brief moments there is a loud blood curdling scream followed by a gasp.


And then there were none.



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