Post by Murdoc on May 8, 2006 1:50:01 GMT -5
[Steam.]
[Billowing clouds of heat, rolling through dense vegetation. So thick, so cumbersome...you could literally lose your shoes in the soft, damp Earth below.]
[The sounds of tropical life all around. This would be something the average person would picture, when you show them the animal that Marcus Murdoc is staring at.]
Theraphosa Blondi
[From deep inside one's mind, the darkest recesses of the human soul...this creature crawls from. And for many...scares the living bejeezus out of them. Marcus Murdoc, looking through the rigid and transparent glass window, watches the creatures slink and crawl around the room. People with protective gloves and boots bringing these creatures in by the bucketful.]
[The handlers were carrying in these creatures, and they had become so used to the stridulation...that they needn't wear earplugs. The loud hissing noise coming from the creatures rubbing their legs together, it had just become another sound amidst the discordant sounds of their everyday activities.]
[Marcus Murdoc standing there, clad only in a pair of snugly fitting black undergarments and a silver ring wrapped lovingly around one of his fingers on his left hand, he looks to his side at the female standing next to him. Her face the essence of confusion and puzzlement, he smiles softly...almost with the barest hint of sadness radiating from his eyes as he kissed her on the forehead and handed her the small sheet of paper that he had been clutching with a death-vice.]
[Watching as she backs away from the brittle glass pane, he leans forward and rests his forehead against the glass. His brow had began to show signs of beading sweat. It was almost as if he were IN that self-same vegetation. Struggling to slice away the vines that would obstruct his path. One step at a time...one step.]
[His thoughts so far away, it was no wonder that he failed to notice the presence behind his right shoulder.]
Good afternoon, sir. I'm Ms. Primo, the Public Relations director you spoke with on the phone?
Yes, Ms. Primo. Marcus Murdoc, in the flesh. I imagine you're fairly surprised to see that I actually showed up?
Quite. In the amount of time I've been head of the Public Relations department at the Liberty Science Museum, I've NEVER been privy to...this sort of request.
Yes...I know. It's an EXTREMELY odd request. I thank you for allowing me the opportunity to do this. Did you receive my donation in the mail, along with the signed waiver?
Oh yes. Early yesterday morning. I have to ask though, before you do this...why?
Why? Ms. Primo, if I knew how to tell you why...I wouldn't be DOING it, I would be telling you and all the people who watch me on a daily basis. But...it looks like the handlers are through transporting them. I suppose now would be the time...hm?
[With that, he takes a long...pronounced breath as he turns his attention to the room before him. The room no more than 10 feet by 10 feet...it was a small room. A very small room. The light in the room was bright, the fluorescent bulb the only source of light. The last of the handlers exiting the doorway behind the brittle, but still thick glass...they simply nod at him as they leave the door open for him to enter.]
[And enter he does.]
[Entering the first door, he shuts it behind him and moves towards the next, much smaller passageway. A square entrance no more than 4 feet by 4 feet, he takes hold of the handle with his right hand. His tremulous, quaking and sweating right hand...and pulls up on the door. Crawling through into the bright, sterilized room...he slams the door back down into place, the echo resounding off the walls.]
[The hissing noise having grown exponentially, he stood there for a moment...frozen in his tracks. The large...]
[Goliath...]
[...bird-eating spiders littering the floor of the room, he had no choice but to show SOME kind of awe in their presence. They were magnificent...and they were terrifying. Their leg span over 10 inches long and weighing over 6 ounces, thick bristly fur that could be shot from their bodies to irritate and cause extreme pain to anyone unlucky enough to be in their path, and HUGE....absolutely monolithic mandibles that helped earn it the title 'bird-eating'.]
[They were absolutely every bit as terrifying as people saw in their own heads.]
[However...he was not as swayed by this. His mind was not so quick to enact the 'fight or flight' syndrome. No. He was above it. His body slowly shuffling along the floor, the first step being the absolute hardest to take...feeling almost as if it very well could be his last. The light brushing sound of furry legs gliding across the white tile floor was enough to send unmitigated SHIVERS down his spine. Yet...onwards he moved.]
[His legs carrying him at roughly half the speed of a tortoise, from what it appeared...he wasn't going anywhere with any kind of haste. And yet...further into the room he penetrated, until there was nowhere left to go. His breath deep...his nerves steeled and his mind iron-willed...his body begins to descend until he is sitting on the floor with literally thousands of bird-eating tarantulas occupying the room around him.]
[His eyes closing softly...he begins to think.]
[Think on his current standing in the Pure Class Wrestling organization, and the roster itself. He had become the self-style 'FACE of PCW' to one of the most reclusive members of its' family. Hiding in the burrows built by the other rodents and vermin...much like the Goliath spider. Nestled deep within the calming darkness that had been carved out for him, he had been secure in his dank...murky hole.]
[And now...thrust into the limelight as he was, though a fighter...he was not immune to the shell-shock that came along with it. Much like these spiders around him...forcibly removed from their natural habitat, violently ousted from their homes and placed for the world to see. Under bright, burning lights and before the blank stares of onlookers. It was enough to drive one mad.]
[Mad enough to attack those in front of it. Mad enough to lash out and attack fools such as Jason Willard and Loco for being in the wrong place at the wrong time...]
[....much like the Goliath spider that currently crawls up his calf muscle. Slinking along...acknowledged, but not paid attention to.]
[Not until it was too late...and its' fangs had found their mark.]
YEEAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH!
******
[Billowing clouds of heat, rolling through dense vegetation. So thick, so cumbersome...you could literally lose your shoes in the soft, damp Earth below.]
[The sounds of tropical life all around. This would be something the average person would picture, when you show them the animal that Marcus Murdoc is staring at.]
Theraphosa Blondi
[From deep inside one's mind, the darkest recesses of the human soul...this creature crawls from. And for many...scares the living bejeezus out of them. Marcus Murdoc, looking through the rigid and transparent glass window, watches the creatures slink and crawl around the room. People with protective gloves and boots bringing these creatures in by the bucketful.]
[The handlers were carrying in these creatures, and they had become so used to the stridulation...that they needn't wear earplugs. The loud hissing noise coming from the creatures rubbing their legs together, it had just become another sound amidst the discordant sounds of their everyday activities.]
[Marcus Murdoc standing there, clad only in a pair of snugly fitting black undergarments and a silver ring wrapped lovingly around one of his fingers on his left hand, he looks to his side at the female standing next to him. Her face the essence of confusion and puzzlement, he smiles softly...almost with the barest hint of sadness radiating from his eyes as he kissed her on the forehead and handed her the small sheet of paper that he had been clutching with a death-vice.]
[Watching as she backs away from the brittle glass pane, he leans forward and rests his forehead against the glass. His brow had began to show signs of beading sweat. It was almost as if he were IN that self-same vegetation. Struggling to slice away the vines that would obstruct his path. One step at a time...one step.]
[His thoughts so far away, it was no wonder that he failed to notice the presence behind his right shoulder.]
Good afternoon, sir. I'm Ms. Primo, the Public Relations director you spoke with on the phone?
Yes, Ms. Primo. Marcus Murdoc, in the flesh. I imagine you're fairly surprised to see that I actually showed up?
Quite. In the amount of time I've been head of the Public Relations department at the Liberty Science Museum, I've NEVER been privy to...this sort of request.
Yes...I know. It's an EXTREMELY odd request. I thank you for allowing me the opportunity to do this. Did you receive my donation in the mail, along with the signed waiver?
Oh yes. Early yesterday morning. I have to ask though, before you do this...why?
Why? Ms. Primo, if I knew how to tell you why...I wouldn't be DOING it, I would be telling you and all the people who watch me on a daily basis. But...it looks like the handlers are through transporting them. I suppose now would be the time...hm?
[With that, he takes a long...pronounced breath as he turns his attention to the room before him. The room no more than 10 feet by 10 feet...it was a small room. A very small room. The light in the room was bright, the fluorescent bulb the only source of light. The last of the handlers exiting the doorway behind the brittle, but still thick glass...they simply nod at him as they leave the door open for him to enter.]
[And enter he does.]
[Entering the first door, he shuts it behind him and moves towards the next, much smaller passageway. A square entrance no more than 4 feet by 4 feet, he takes hold of the handle with his right hand. His tremulous, quaking and sweating right hand...and pulls up on the door. Crawling through into the bright, sterilized room...he slams the door back down into place, the echo resounding off the walls.]
[The hissing noise having grown exponentially, he stood there for a moment...frozen in his tracks. The large...]
[Goliath...]
[...bird-eating spiders littering the floor of the room, he had no choice but to show SOME kind of awe in their presence. They were magnificent...and they were terrifying. Their leg span over 10 inches long and weighing over 6 ounces, thick bristly fur that could be shot from their bodies to irritate and cause extreme pain to anyone unlucky enough to be in their path, and HUGE....absolutely monolithic mandibles that helped earn it the title 'bird-eating'.]
[They were absolutely every bit as terrifying as people saw in their own heads.]
[However...he was not as swayed by this. His mind was not so quick to enact the 'fight or flight' syndrome. No. He was above it. His body slowly shuffling along the floor, the first step being the absolute hardest to take...feeling almost as if it very well could be his last. The light brushing sound of furry legs gliding across the white tile floor was enough to send unmitigated SHIVERS down his spine. Yet...onwards he moved.]
[His legs carrying him at roughly half the speed of a tortoise, from what it appeared...he wasn't going anywhere with any kind of haste. And yet...further into the room he penetrated, until there was nowhere left to go. His breath deep...his nerves steeled and his mind iron-willed...his body begins to descend until he is sitting on the floor with literally thousands of bird-eating tarantulas occupying the room around him.]
[His eyes closing softly...he begins to think.]
[Think on his current standing in the Pure Class Wrestling organization, and the roster itself. He had become the self-style 'FACE of PCW' to one of the most reclusive members of its' family. Hiding in the burrows built by the other rodents and vermin...much like the Goliath spider. Nestled deep within the calming darkness that had been carved out for him, he had been secure in his dank...murky hole.]
[And now...thrust into the limelight as he was, though a fighter...he was not immune to the shell-shock that came along with it. Much like these spiders around him...forcibly removed from their natural habitat, violently ousted from their homes and placed for the world to see. Under bright, burning lights and before the blank stares of onlookers. It was enough to drive one mad.]
[Mad enough to attack those in front of it. Mad enough to lash out and attack fools such as Jason Willard and Loco for being in the wrong place at the wrong time...]
[....much like the Goliath spider that currently crawls up his calf muscle. Slinking along...acknowledged, but not paid attention to.]
[Not until it was too late...and its' fangs had found their mark.]
YEEAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH!
******
“Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own webs from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch”
- -John Dryden(1631-1700)
And their own webs from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch”
- -John Dryden(1631-1700)