Post by Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith on Sept 25, 2017 21:38:23 GMT -5
The scene opens up all grainy, almost like an old 1960's movie. There is one solitary huge room, with what looks like a large wheel in the middle of the decrepid room. There is a few parts of machinery sitting precariously on the side of it. There looks to be a middle aged man standing behind the machinery, dressed up what looks like an executioner from the Old West. You can hear a cackle escape from his lips and turns on the machinery, lightning and static electricity discharging from the machinery.
All the sudden, the large wheel starts to turn and you hear a gasp and a small yelp coming from the middle of the wheel. The large wheel whirls into action and the camera pans to someone in the middle of the wheel. The familiar blond hair and camo pants comes into focus. A look of worry and panic is on the face of the individual. It is shown to be veteran superstar and PCW Hall of Famer, Tyrone “Crazy Boy” Smith.
The wheel continues to turn as the middle aged man and grabs a whip of sorts, cracking it at the worried superstar. Crazy Boy starts to walk on the wheel, the middle aged man laughing manically. Tyrone's mind starts to race as the wheel continues to move at a steady pace. The electricity flies from the machine and hits the wheel, causing the Crazy One to jump up and hit his head on top of the wheel. He rubs his head as he proceeds to walk on the wheel, the man cackling, cracking the whip at a steady pace.
The wheel starts turning faster as Tyrone starts to run faster, the static electricity and lightning flashing all around him, hitting the wheel, causing Crazy Boy to jump periodically while trying to maintain his flow. The wheel starts rotating faster and faster, the man cackling all the while and cracking the whip. Pretty soon, The Crazy One is running, sweating pouring down his face. One more flash of lightning hits the wheel from the machine, causing Crazy Boy to fly off the wheel and hit the hard floor hard. He stops to catch his breath as the man comes and stands over him and cackles, cracking his whip on top of Crazy Boy's head repeatedly until he passes out...
And all is black.
Tyrone wakes up with a jolt in his bed of his beach house in Biloxi, Mississippi. Once again, he had another weird dream, and he cannot pinpoint on why or what it means. He sits straight up in his king size bed, his wife laying down next to him, not moving. He softly gets out of the bed, his feet hitting the carpet on the floor. He shuffles his feet across the floor, making his way to the bathroom. He turns on the light and splashes water on his face. He stares at the mirror, his brow furrowed into thought, still thinking about the meaning of the dream he had.
Wheels... running in circles... not going anywhere. I wonder if that was a parallel of my career. I can't seem to get going, no matter what I do, and it seems that all I do is turn my wheels. It makes sense if you think about it that way. The falling flat on my face is me continuously losing. I'm still not sure what the man was about, but I guess he was just there for dramatic effect?
Crazy Boy continues to be lost in thought as he walks out of the bathroom, turning off the lights and closes the door. He shuffles back to the bed and sits on the edge of it, staring down at the floor.
Wait, I think the guy references the person I'm facing at Trauma in High Tide. He has been part of the execution of my career lately. I have faced him SO many times and he has beaten me SO many times that he has basically become almost a career killer for me. This dream is just my mind telling me that you have to do something with your career before it is too late. I'm already floundering for so long, I can't go any further lower.
Tyrone lays back down on the bed, but doesn't close his eyes. His mind is racing too much to go back to sleep.
I lost my first Round Robin tournament match against Alexa Black. I'm already down a match. I CANNOT and WILL NOT afford to lose another match. This is my best opportunity for me to become Underground Champion, but I cannot lose a match again. High Tide has gotten me time and time again, but I have beaten him on a few occasions, including when I won my first North American Championship. I know what I need to do, and dammit, I just need to go out there and do it.
Crazy Boy finally closes his eyes and turns in the bed for a restless night as the show fades to black.
Static and fade.
End.
All the sudden, the large wheel starts to turn and you hear a gasp and a small yelp coming from the middle of the wheel. The large wheel whirls into action and the camera pans to someone in the middle of the wheel. The familiar blond hair and camo pants comes into focus. A look of worry and panic is on the face of the individual. It is shown to be veteran superstar and PCW Hall of Famer, Tyrone “Crazy Boy” Smith.
The wheel continues to turn as the middle aged man and grabs a whip of sorts, cracking it at the worried superstar. Crazy Boy starts to walk on the wheel, the middle aged man laughing manically. Tyrone's mind starts to race as the wheel continues to move at a steady pace. The electricity flies from the machine and hits the wheel, causing the Crazy One to jump up and hit his head on top of the wheel. He rubs his head as he proceeds to walk on the wheel, the man cackling, cracking the whip at a steady pace.
The wheel starts turning faster as Tyrone starts to run faster, the static electricity and lightning flashing all around him, hitting the wheel, causing Crazy Boy to jump periodically while trying to maintain his flow. The wheel starts rotating faster and faster, the man cackling all the while and cracking the whip. Pretty soon, The Crazy One is running, sweating pouring down his face. One more flash of lightning hits the wheel from the machine, causing Crazy Boy to fly off the wheel and hit the hard floor hard. He stops to catch his breath as the man comes and stands over him and cackles, cracking his whip on top of Crazy Boy's head repeatedly until he passes out...
And all is black.
Tyrone wakes up with a jolt in his bed of his beach house in Biloxi, Mississippi. Once again, he had another weird dream, and he cannot pinpoint on why or what it means. He sits straight up in his king size bed, his wife laying down next to him, not moving. He softly gets out of the bed, his feet hitting the carpet on the floor. He shuffles his feet across the floor, making his way to the bathroom. He turns on the light and splashes water on his face. He stares at the mirror, his brow furrowed into thought, still thinking about the meaning of the dream he had.
Wheels... running in circles... not going anywhere. I wonder if that was a parallel of my career. I can't seem to get going, no matter what I do, and it seems that all I do is turn my wheels. It makes sense if you think about it that way. The falling flat on my face is me continuously losing. I'm still not sure what the man was about, but I guess he was just there for dramatic effect?
Crazy Boy continues to be lost in thought as he walks out of the bathroom, turning off the lights and closes the door. He shuffles back to the bed and sits on the edge of it, staring down at the floor.
Wait, I think the guy references the person I'm facing at Trauma in High Tide. He has been part of the execution of my career lately. I have faced him SO many times and he has beaten me SO many times that he has basically become almost a career killer for me. This dream is just my mind telling me that you have to do something with your career before it is too late. I'm already floundering for so long, I can't go any further lower.
Tyrone lays back down on the bed, but doesn't close his eyes. His mind is racing too much to go back to sleep.
I lost my first Round Robin tournament match against Alexa Black. I'm already down a match. I CANNOT and WILL NOT afford to lose another match. This is my best opportunity for me to become Underground Champion, but I cannot lose a match again. High Tide has gotten me time and time again, but I have beaten him on a few occasions, including when I won my first North American Championship. I know what I need to do, and dammit, I just need to go out there and do it.
Crazy Boy finally closes his eyes and turns in the bed for a restless night as the show fades to black.
Static and fade.
End.
