Post by Non Compos Mentis on Jun 24, 2006 12:29:07 GMT -5
[The scene opens with a view of a large, expensive LCD television placed neatly and precisely on a plain white wall. The wall is a pictures of minimalism, a sample of nothingness that sits, motionless and claming, but also an organised nothing, an assorted collection of non existent items. How do things look organised when there is nothing to organise? Or is it that one large object such as a plyboard and plaster wall painted white will never look out of place? The wall remains motionless, only to be used to hang the television on in a plain and unexciting manor.
On the television is a picture of complete static and white noise. The flickering of the screen notifying the watcher that nothing is there to be watched. Once more this is a symbol, if not an embodiment, of minimalist expression. A television, an instrument of entertainment and visual wonder, being neglected and unused, or used only to provide a focal point in the room, not to provide a plethora of computer effects and strobe lighting.
Around the television is a murky quality of light that flashes now and then but continuously flickers in patches of dark and light grey like that of a rain spattered window. This light obscures the view of the rest of the room to some degree but we continue to look around and see a set of French windows that looks eerily familiar. The light that is coming through this window is distorted by the pummelling it is taking from the rain coming from the pitch black clouds overhead.
We look around further and see the arm of a large deep red leather sofa that looks highly luxurious and extravagant and contrasts the rest of the room as it shows a lively and extroverted lifestyle rather than the neurotic, anal, introverted lifestyle shown by the minimalist features of the room. Perhaps this means that the owner can fully let himself go in this seat. Maybe he can let his mind rest here and practice his inner most feelings.
We look further around to see a figure sitting on the sofa. The figure is slightly distorted through the light but we can make out his features. Long, dark brown hair stretching to the shoulder that is slightly pulled back into a ponytail. A misshapen nose that has been broken several times by moments of extreme physical abuse. A scarred forehead where numerous implements of pain have ripped flesh and caused blood to flow. The person is Non Compos Mentis.
In from of his is a new glass coffee table to replace the he so angrily smashed. Underneath it, on a second shelf, there is a DVD player and recorder that is waiting to be turned on. Mentis leans forwards from the sofa and presses the open button, waits, then puts an unmarked DVD into the holder before closing it. The television flickers and moves to being completely black for a number of seconds, plunging the room into complete darkness. Moments later the DVD player sparks into life and the screen lights up. The room lights up again and we turn to look towards the screen.
When we can see the television we notice that a Wrestling match is about to be played. The screen is displaying the names of the combatants for the contest, Non Compos Mentis versus ‘The Freak’ Zellmo, House of Fun Match. The match starts and Mentis takes an immediate lead, proceeding to lad several hard hits Zellmo and then moving to the outside to look for weaponry.
We look back around to Mentis who is now sitting on the edge of his sofa and is taking extreme notice of every detail in the match.]
Non Compos Mentis: The most hardcore moment of my wrestling career. The moment when I finally got the chance to prove to the world that I was the man that I had been saying I was, the extreme icon, the hardcore legend and a person that was willing to go as far as it took to win a match.
It was my trademark match, the match that I had built a reputation on. Up until the Hell On Earth match between Ender Slyth and Christopher Wright it was the most hardcore match Golden Canvas Grappling had seen. And it was me that made the attraction. That was the match that should have established me as the main attraction in GCG and put me well in the picture for a World Title.
I lost the match. To the biggest reject that wrestling had ever seen. Political agendas and managerial bias caused me to lose my biggest chance at becoming a major force in wrestling.
[We look back to the screen and we see Mentis raising a chair above his head and slams it down on the back of Zellmo. As we look back at Mentis we see a smile creep across him face and he sits back into his seat.]
Non Compos Mentis: I was ready to go forward and I was ready to take the world by storm. I had everything I needed to make it work and I failed. Zellmo messed up everything for me. He took away my chance of becoming one of the premier main eventers on the planet.
This is what you are up against Al Laiman. You are up against a man that, the last time he was involved in a hardcore match, was struck a near fatal blow and ever since has been searching for revenge. That’s right Al, you are Zellmo, you are the person that took my chance of success, you are that person that caused me so much mental anguish and depression. Al, you were the one that destroyed me. You were the one that stopped me from becoming that star.
[We move back to the screen and see Mentis setting up a table in the ring and grabbing hold of Zellmo before throwing him across the ring and landing a devastating flapjack through the table, crushing Zellmo’s ribs in the process. We turn back to Mentis to see him staring in enjoyment at the television and leaning forward again in his seat. The light in the room flashes again as a bolt of lightning strikes outside and illuminates every object in the room. Mentis looks out of the window and stands up, walks over and stares out at the pounding rain.]
Non Compos Mentis: Al Laiman, you are about to run into a force so violent that not even the elements themselves can stop it. I have been held back constantly by the powers that be, I have been targeted by arrogant newcomers, I have been screwed out of numerous chances to break through into the main event, and you are the embodiment of all of these problems. The multi-time World Champion that respects everyone and has enough respect from them to brush off anyone they don’t like. The man that shrugs off a career that is massively successful for a job that ‘gives something back to the industry’. I don’t have that chance, I am not a massive success and I cannot give up because I feel like it. You dismissed your job so flippantly when you had so much promise, just because you wanted to. You should have the respect to carry out your career until you can wrestle no longer like all of the greats have.
Or is that what you did? Were you throwing away a damaged career and trying to salvage what you could, repackaging it and selling it as ‘giving something back’. Were you badly injured or did you lose your motivation or did you realise that certain things mean more than success, like love and life. I know you think I am unsentimental, unemotional and ignorant, but I see it like this, I am doing what has to be done and I have seen sense. The fans don’t respect you, they don’t respect anyone, they are fickle and they will support anyone that is the flavour of the month. They like the underdog, the good guy, the funny guy, the guy that gives them cheap pops, they like all of these but only so long as they entertain and they give them something.
And then there are people like me who realise just how two faced they are. I had their support, I had their cheers, I even had their respect for some time but that all changed when I saw that success mattered more. They turned and now I am hated, despised and disgusted b them all. This is why people like you make me sick. You believe in the dream of respect and honour.
[We look back to the screen to see Mentis holding a bag above his head and then dropping the contents on the mat. Hundreds of thumb tacks hits the mat and bounce everywhere as Zellmo looks on in horror before Mentis moves back onto the offensive.]
Non Compos Mentis: Whether you know that I have been in hardcore matches or not, I do know that you have a certain amount of knowledge of my skill in the ring, as shown by my holding of the North American title. You know that I can do and you should be afraid of what I will do to you. It may be your match, the Hardcore Hell match, you may have experience in the match, but I don’t care about that. All I care about is that I have the chance to drive your head into a mat covered in thumb tacks and caving your head in with every weapon under the sun, So intense is my hate for you.
You think I am ignorant. I assume you know that the meaning of that word is commonly interpreted as ‘not knowing’. Al, it is you that does not know the full facts here. I have seen the light and I have seen that success is all that matters and all of this respect you have is useless and is only used to provide a sanity to your mind. A sanity that I have lost already.
We have nothing in common, or maybe we do. I have heard that you like spending time in Grave yards and cemeteries. Well, maybe not like but you defiantly spend a lot of time there. Now, whilst I don’t like it I do spend some time in them. The comparison that I can make seems only to be that we both know bereavement. That so depressing of emotions. So I wonder, who have you lost? How did you cope? Why do you still go? I lost my parents, murdered by a traveller, a homeless man that broke into their house whilst I was inside the asylum. How did I cope? Easily, they left me to rot in a mental institute, I naturally shut them out and saw it as divine justice. Why do I still go to see them? That is all I am ignorant of. I do not know why I keep going. If it is a hidden feeling of guilt, a feeling of holiness and sanctity or even just to show them that I arrived at success finally, and to keep reminding them of it.
What ever your reasons, who ever you lost, however you coped with the pain, We have nothing more I common and I have no feeling of respect or admiration for you. I accept that you have won World Championships, I accept that you are considered a legend, but the line is drawn there. What I do not accept is that you have what it takes anymore. You have lost it and no matter how many tag team matches you have you will not prove anything else to me.
My only regret now is that this iconic match will not be your return and exit from the wrestling industry, only your exit. Tag Team Turmoil took that away from me, but I will take your beloved wrestling life away from you. You will not make it to Return To Glory and your friend Lantlas will be forced into a handicap match. Do you really want to see your friend demolished, do you really want to see him suffer. Back out now and I will wait to the PPV to finish you career in a suitable place.
But, of course, you wont back out, you will walk blindly into your casket and shut the door on yourself on the way. Al, this match will be your legacy, and it will be your closing moment that will be the memory everyone has of your career. That memory will be one of pain and suffering and a new star being born. I will take great pleasure in beating you and becoming one of the legendary few to beat you.
For I am Non Compos Mentis,
The Usher of Destruction.
[The scene fades slowly to black as we look back at the screen to see Zellmo covering Mentis. The referee counts 1….2……the screen goes black. Mentis turns off the television right before the finish so that he does not re-live the moment. As the scene fades out completely, Mentis is seen standing in near complete darkness, thinking of future triumphs.]
On the television is a picture of complete static and white noise. The flickering of the screen notifying the watcher that nothing is there to be watched. Once more this is a symbol, if not an embodiment, of minimalist expression. A television, an instrument of entertainment and visual wonder, being neglected and unused, or used only to provide a focal point in the room, not to provide a plethora of computer effects and strobe lighting.
Around the television is a murky quality of light that flashes now and then but continuously flickers in patches of dark and light grey like that of a rain spattered window. This light obscures the view of the rest of the room to some degree but we continue to look around and see a set of French windows that looks eerily familiar. The light that is coming through this window is distorted by the pummelling it is taking from the rain coming from the pitch black clouds overhead.
We look around further and see the arm of a large deep red leather sofa that looks highly luxurious and extravagant and contrasts the rest of the room as it shows a lively and extroverted lifestyle rather than the neurotic, anal, introverted lifestyle shown by the minimalist features of the room. Perhaps this means that the owner can fully let himself go in this seat. Maybe he can let his mind rest here and practice his inner most feelings.
We look further around to see a figure sitting on the sofa. The figure is slightly distorted through the light but we can make out his features. Long, dark brown hair stretching to the shoulder that is slightly pulled back into a ponytail. A misshapen nose that has been broken several times by moments of extreme physical abuse. A scarred forehead where numerous implements of pain have ripped flesh and caused blood to flow. The person is Non Compos Mentis.
In from of his is a new glass coffee table to replace the he so angrily smashed. Underneath it, on a second shelf, there is a DVD player and recorder that is waiting to be turned on. Mentis leans forwards from the sofa and presses the open button, waits, then puts an unmarked DVD into the holder before closing it. The television flickers and moves to being completely black for a number of seconds, plunging the room into complete darkness. Moments later the DVD player sparks into life and the screen lights up. The room lights up again and we turn to look towards the screen.
When we can see the television we notice that a Wrestling match is about to be played. The screen is displaying the names of the combatants for the contest, Non Compos Mentis versus ‘The Freak’ Zellmo, House of Fun Match. The match starts and Mentis takes an immediate lead, proceeding to lad several hard hits Zellmo and then moving to the outside to look for weaponry.
We look back around to Mentis who is now sitting on the edge of his sofa and is taking extreme notice of every detail in the match.]
Non Compos Mentis: The most hardcore moment of my wrestling career. The moment when I finally got the chance to prove to the world that I was the man that I had been saying I was, the extreme icon, the hardcore legend and a person that was willing to go as far as it took to win a match.
It was my trademark match, the match that I had built a reputation on. Up until the Hell On Earth match between Ender Slyth and Christopher Wright it was the most hardcore match Golden Canvas Grappling had seen. And it was me that made the attraction. That was the match that should have established me as the main attraction in GCG and put me well in the picture for a World Title.
I lost the match. To the biggest reject that wrestling had ever seen. Political agendas and managerial bias caused me to lose my biggest chance at becoming a major force in wrestling.
[We look back to the screen and we see Mentis raising a chair above his head and slams it down on the back of Zellmo. As we look back at Mentis we see a smile creep across him face and he sits back into his seat.]
Non Compos Mentis: I was ready to go forward and I was ready to take the world by storm. I had everything I needed to make it work and I failed. Zellmo messed up everything for me. He took away my chance of becoming one of the premier main eventers on the planet.
This is what you are up against Al Laiman. You are up against a man that, the last time he was involved in a hardcore match, was struck a near fatal blow and ever since has been searching for revenge. That’s right Al, you are Zellmo, you are the person that took my chance of success, you are that person that caused me so much mental anguish and depression. Al, you were the one that destroyed me. You were the one that stopped me from becoming that star.
[We move back to the screen and see Mentis setting up a table in the ring and grabbing hold of Zellmo before throwing him across the ring and landing a devastating flapjack through the table, crushing Zellmo’s ribs in the process. We turn back to Mentis to see him staring in enjoyment at the television and leaning forward again in his seat. The light in the room flashes again as a bolt of lightning strikes outside and illuminates every object in the room. Mentis looks out of the window and stands up, walks over and stares out at the pounding rain.]
Non Compos Mentis: Al Laiman, you are about to run into a force so violent that not even the elements themselves can stop it. I have been held back constantly by the powers that be, I have been targeted by arrogant newcomers, I have been screwed out of numerous chances to break through into the main event, and you are the embodiment of all of these problems. The multi-time World Champion that respects everyone and has enough respect from them to brush off anyone they don’t like. The man that shrugs off a career that is massively successful for a job that ‘gives something back to the industry’. I don’t have that chance, I am not a massive success and I cannot give up because I feel like it. You dismissed your job so flippantly when you had so much promise, just because you wanted to. You should have the respect to carry out your career until you can wrestle no longer like all of the greats have.
Or is that what you did? Were you throwing away a damaged career and trying to salvage what you could, repackaging it and selling it as ‘giving something back’. Were you badly injured or did you lose your motivation or did you realise that certain things mean more than success, like love and life. I know you think I am unsentimental, unemotional and ignorant, but I see it like this, I am doing what has to be done and I have seen sense. The fans don’t respect you, they don’t respect anyone, they are fickle and they will support anyone that is the flavour of the month. They like the underdog, the good guy, the funny guy, the guy that gives them cheap pops, they like all of these but only so long as they entertain and they give them something.
And then there are people like me who realise just how two faced they are. I had their support, I had their cheers, I even had their respect for some time but that all changed when I saw that success mattered more. They turned and now I am hated, despised and disgusted b them all. This is why people like you make me sick. You believe in the dream of respect and honour.
[We look back to the screen to see Mentis holding a bag above his head and then dropping the contents on the mat. Hundreds of thumb tacks hits the mat and bounce everywhere as Zellmo looks on in horror before Mentis moves back onto the offensive.]
Non Compos Mentis: Whether you know that I have been in hardcore matches or not, I do know that you have a certain amount of knowledge of my skill in the ring, as shown by my holding of the North American title. You know that I can do and you should be afraid of what I will do to you. It may be your match, the Hardcore Hell match, you may have experience in the match, but I don’t care about that. All I care about is that I have the chance to drive your head into a mat covered in thumb tacks and caving your head in with every weapon under the sun, So intense is my hate for you.
You think I am ignorant. I assume you know that the meaning of that word is commonly interpreted as ‘not knowing’. Al, it is you that does not know the full facts here. I have seen the light and I have seen that success is all that matters and all of this respect you have is useless and is only used to provide a sanity to your mind. A sanity that I have lost already.
We have nothing in common, or maybe we do. I have heard that you like spending time in Grave yards and cemeteries. Well, maybe not like but you defiantly spend a lot of time there. Now, whilst I don’t like it I do spend some time in them. The comparison that I can make seems only to be that we both know bereavement. That so depressing of emotions. So I wonder, who have you lost? How did you cope? Why do you still go? I lost my parents, murdered by a traveller, a homeless man that broke into their house whilst I was inside the asylum. How did I cope? Easily, they left me to rot in a mental institute, I naturally shut them out and saw it as divine justice. Why do I still go to see them? That is all I am ignorant of. I do not know why I keep going. If it is a hidden feeling of guilt, a feeling of holiness and sanctity or even just to show them that I arrived at success finally, and to keep reminding them of it.
What ever your reasons, who ever you lost, however you coped with the pain, We have nothing more I common and I have no feeling of respect or admiration for you. I accept that you have won World Championships, I accept that you are considered a legend, but the line is drawn there. What I do not accept is that you have what it takes anymore. You have lost it and no matter how many tag team matches you have you will not prove anything else to me.
My only regret now is that this iconic match will not be your return and exit from the wrestling industry, only your exit. Tag Team Turmoil took that away from me, but I will take your beloved wrestling life away from you. You will not make it to Return To Glory and your friend Lantlas will be forced into a handicap match. Do you really want to see your friend demolished, do you really want to see him suffer. Back out now and I will wait to the PPV to finish you career in a suitable place.
But, of course, you wont back out, you will walk blindly into your casket and shut the door on yourself on the way. Al, this match will be your legacy, and it will be your closing moment that will be the memory everyone has of your career. That memory will be one of pain and suffering and a new star being born. I will take great pleasure in beating you and becoming one of the legendary few to beat you.
For I am Non Compos Mentis,
The Usher of Destruction.
[The scene fades slowly to black as we look back at the screen to see Zellmo covering Mentis. The referee counts 1….2……the screen goes black. Mentis turns off the television right before the finish so that he does not re-live the moment. As the scene fades out completely, Mentis is seen standing in near complete darkness, thinking of future triumphs.]
