| El Locon Shwdown RP | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 21 2011, 05:18 AM (178 Views) | |
| Los Locos | Jan 21 2011, 05:18 AM Post #1 |
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sVo Contender
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Please help me 'cause I'm breaking down, this picture's frozen and I can't get out Please help me 'cause I'm breaking down, this picture's frozen and I can't get out of here Release me, I'm just as lost as you Believe me, I'm just as lost as you --Still Frame by Trapt ***Please note the dashes before each spoken paragraph. One dash is different from two dashes and it represents a change in tone. Two dashes represents El Locon's anxiety driven self. One dash represents his defiant self.*** The road to recovery always has to begin somewhere. El Locon’s mind was a curious thing. For every scenario presented to him that would help him, he would find fault with it. If someone presented him with the simple equation of 1+1 = 2, El Locon’s mind would come up with a plethora of reasons why that was neither possible nor probable. The road to recovery, something way more complex than a simple math problem, gave El Locon’s mind a decent workout. With something more complex, El Locon’s mind ran wild. It created the most implausible scenarios. El Locon’s mind went something like this: Scenario: Recover from the beating at the hands of The Rodriguez Brothers Mind Result: You got beat up by The Rodriguez Brothers who are the SVO Tag Team Champions. By losing to Nightmare, you cannot possibly hope to beat The Rodriguez Brothers. If you cannot beat someone as easy as The Rodriguez Brothers, then you won’t be a champion in SVO. If you get taken out of SVO due to your inability to recover, then no one will take you seriously. But, on the other hand, no one takes you seriously right now because you lost to Nightmare. Also, no one took you seriously before you wrestled Nightmare. So, if nobody took you serious before or after your match with Nightmare, there is no point on being on a road to recovery because there is nothing to recover you from. You cannot hope to succeed. You cannot hope to attain that which you never held. You cannot rise above when the bar has always been out of reach. It was damning to say the least. But, as mentioned before, the road to recovery had to begin somewhere. For El Locon, it was this spot, He stood in front of the full body mirror that hung on the backside of his bedroom door. He was in his wrestling gear and unable to look at himself. His head hung low and his chin was almost pressed against his chest. His legs were spread the width of his shoulders. His arms hung loose at his side. He stood there, in the silence, sulking. The silence was pleasing to his ears. Normally, El Locon’s ears perk up and enjoy the sound of a riled up crowd, but not anymore. The fans would taunt him the same way he had taunted them since the day he joined Sanctioned Violence Organization. El Locon slowly raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror. The face that looked back was all too familiar and yet all too strange. Where had these bags under his eyes come from? His stomach bulged a little. The definition on his abs had waned. His face, once ripe with a smile of arrogance or a spark of cockiness, now was relaxed and void of those things. El Locon tried to make it look like his face was empty of all emotion, but a hint of sadness remained. El Locon pressed the inside of his lip in between his teeth and began to chew and gnaw on the inside of his mouth. He was not the same man who debuted only less than half a year ago. The loss to Amos and especially the loss to Nightmare had put him in a place he never thought he’d see. He wasn’t low. Low was still too high up. He was beyond rock bottom. El Locon: --So, this is where El Locon is at. You stand there and look like a complete jackass. You are the most pathetic excuse for a professional wrestler since DVD decided that he wanted to quit trying to repeat the 6th grade and try to get back into another run in wrestling. You stand there and look at me as if I should be feeling sorry for you. --Look at your face. You’re supposed to be 24 years old and you look like you’re 40. You almost make Ric Flair look like Evan Bourne. You make Jay Wildman look like Colt Cooper. You’re a shell of your former self. Your body is falling apart. You look like you just competed in a jelly roll eating contest. El Locon turns himself to the side. He takes his hands, places them underneath his stomach and jiggles himself to see just how much definition his body has lost. El Locon: --Wow. You could give Santa Claus a run for his money. I mean, he laughs like a bowl full of jelly, but you laugh like a tub full of jelly. Hell, they should call you tubba blubba (Tub of Blubber). El Locon turns back to the mirror and becomes more depressed. El Locon: -Might as well say what I’ve had a hard time saying…. El Locon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. El Locon: -I. Lost. To. Nightmare. El Locon opens his left eye and looks around. He opens his other eye and stares at his own face. A weight, though small, had been lifted. He needed to deal with himself. El Locon pointed at himself in the mirror and continued his criticism from earlier. El Locon: --Look at you, you worthless piece of shit. You think that you have any hope of taking out The Rodriguez Brothers when you can’t even beat Nightmare? For crying out loud, Locon, Nightmare probably shits his own pants. You couldn’t beat a man that shits his own pants? --You think that Matt Anderson wants you on his company? Look at you! You couldn’t even trash talk a child. You think Matt Anderson wants you on his roster? If I was Matt Anderson, I’d have kicked you off the SVO, stabbed you in the eye, had Howard Thompson burn your motherfucking ass and then have Colt Cooper dump you in the Holyoke Mall dumpster! --What kind of American loses to Nightmare? The answer? NONE! You aren’t even American anymore you son of a bitch. You’re a Puerto Rican! You’re tainted goods. No one wants you. No one wants to be with you. No one wants to see you. No one wants to hear from you. No one cares about you. In fact, you don’t even care about yourself because if you did, you would’ve stopped yourself a long time ago from this verbal bitch slapping. El Locon stopped talking and let those last few sentences sink in. Why hadn’t he stopped himself? His hate for himself ran deep and his lack of answering himself led to more anger and more depression. This began the verbal bitch slapping all over again. El Locon: --You are a coward and a disgrace. Instead, look at yourself. You’re taking yourself out of the game. -SHUT UP! EL Locon grew silent after his outburst. Looking at his reflection, El Locon was red in the face. His eyes had a look of worry and he was beginning to sweat. He held up his hands to his face and looked at them. He then placed his hands on either side of his head and began to tug on his hair. El Locon: --You think that I need to shut up? You are the one that needs to shut up. After that horrible loss to Nightmare, I don’t think you have even earned the right to speak, let alone tell someone else that they need to shut up! -I SAID SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP! --No. No, I’m going to keep talking because you need to hear this, you pathetic piece of smegma. -Actually, no, I’m going to be the one talking now. You want to know what I think of you. I think you are the pathetic one. You don’t deserve to be talking. Whether I want to accept it or not, the fact of the matter remains, I lost to Nightmare. On the same token, I still have a roulette match at Showdown. And most of all, I am STILL on SVO's roster. Until Matt Anderson says otherwise, I’m going to be at Showdown. I’m going to be in the main events. Sure, I lost to Nightmare but you know what? Any given Sunday! -I lost to Nightmare but if you think for one fucking second that I am going to allow this to deter me, you thought wrong. I know what comes with a loss to Nightmare and I’m ready to accept it. But, if you think that that will keep me from showing up on Sunday to put the beatdown on The Rodriguez Brothers, then you are sorely mistaken. -If anything, the true test of my American resolve will come from how I address this – to see if I can pull myself up by my wrestling boots. People want to mock me for being Puerto Rican? Fine, let them. They think this is going to make me collapse upon myself like a dying star? Fine, let them think that way. The true joy is going to come when I prove each and every single one of them wrong. -I am sick of listening to them and especially you. You tell me that I’m not deserving to be on SVO's roster? Fuck you. I will be a future champion in SVO. I bring more fire to anyone. You think the other wrestlers out there want to wrestle me because they don’t like me? Hell no! I make them look good. Their status is raised when they face me in the ring. I refuse to listen to people like Nightmare who has a mind so delusional. -I am El Locon. You may speak for other people but you do not speak for me. I am the greatest thing to happen to this federation and no one can say otherwise. Let them come with their Nightmare mockery. Let them come out in droves to chant his name during my matches. Let them come with their pathetic signs that say: “Nightmare > El Locon” “El Locon is a jabber” “El Locon = The Rodriguez Brothers NEXT MEAL” -Because whether they know it or not, they’re there to see me. They are there to taunt me. THEY ARE THERE FOR ME! -And that is why I am never…ever…going away. If Nightmare has done anything for me, it is wake me up. He gave me a kick in my pants. He shook me from complacency. So, thank you, Nightmare. It is because of you that I will be a future champion. It is because of you that everyone else will find themselves... on their back with El Locon on top of them. El Locon smiles at his reflection and walks away. |
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2:32 PM Jul 11