Post by Non Compos Mentis on Jun 25, 2006 14:26:52 GMT -5
[The scene begins with a view of a bustling high street in urban America. All around there are two story buildings rinsing above the two lane streets like goliaths looking over their kingdom. Like the giants of capitalism and materialism rising up and viewing all that has become theirs to own. Disciples of the new religion of consumerism wander aimlessly to their next fix, but not of drugs or drink but of a bargain. They seek the acknowledgment of their peers by spending that 2 dollars less for a glorified ivory backscratcher that cost them 100 dollars anyway.
They live in a meritocracy where effort means nothing but results mean everything. No-one cares if you had to work a 60 hour week to pay for your food and rent, everyone cares in you worked 5 minutes to buy a Ferrari. A meritocracy based on money and wealth. In times gone by it was a status symbol to wear a suit, no matter who tailored it, now these people refuse to socialise with anyone who wears less than Armani.
We look around the streets to see hundreds of people dining on the symbols of their capitalist leaders. They walk around eating from McDonald’s branded polystyrene boxes, carrying numerous bags marked with Gucci, Nike, Adidas and K-Swiss, holding out the keys to their new sparkling BMW sitting in the street. These people live on the fact that they have won the social lottery and are living the dream because of it.
We look around further see a complete contrast to the high rise living of these people. Down an alleyway that leads between two of these brand hotspots, we see movement behind an inanimate dumpster, the legs of a person stretching out into the alley, shaking off the effects of a long night on the streets. Whilst this person lives in desolate solitude the rest of these people walk around in their plush suits and designer sports cars.
The sun beats down onto the dry asphalt like it is trying to beat it into submission, to interrogate it and crack it with its intensity. The heat ripples through the air as if it is materialising into something right there, making its presence known in any way. Yet these minions of the capitalist world walk around unwilling to break into a sweat as they would break their own image. They strive forward, trying to keep their dignity by holding back the natural urges of the human body, whilst the homeless person sits unworried about their dignity and image and cooling themselves with their sweet sweat.
We look down the street again to see a familiar sight. Walking down the sidewalk, wearing black jeans and a plain black t-shirt but neglecting the black denim jacket for the heat, Non Compos Mentis. He is carrying a McDonalds branded polystyrene box that contains a ‘big-mac’. Everyone around him stares in disbelief as if Mentis is some otherworldly being that has just crash landed on earth. The reality is that he is not wearing their Pinstripe suits and he is not carrying any Gucci labelled bags. They look on at him as if he has committed some hateful crime by going against the proscribed goals that their society has provided.
Mentis then walks past the alley but looks down it at the same point and sees the legs stretching out from behind the dumpster. Mentis stops immediately and looks down at the burger he is holding in his hands. Mentis then turns and walks up the alley to meet the homeless person sitting behind the trash container. He reaches it and looks around the edge to see a short and relatively large built Afro-Carribean woman with pitch black hair put back into dreadlocks and attached into a ponytail. She appears to be reasonably old as well, about 50, maybe 60. She is wearing tattered clothes that look to be extremely dirty and worn because of the lack of a replacement.
Mentis bends down to the woman and passes her the burger which she takes willingly with a large smile across her face.]
Woman: Thank yoo mista.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: No problem, he wouldn’t stop annoying me if I would have given you it.
Woman: He?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Doesn’t matter, enjoy the burger.
[Mentis goes to walk away down the alley.]
Woman: Wait, my chile’, what’s yoos name?[/color]
[Mentis stops in his tracks and turns around to look at the woman who stares back at him in an interested fashion.]
Non Compos Mentis: My name? Mentis, I have to go.
[Once again Mentis moves to walk away back into the mass of suit wearing materialists.]
Woman: Yoos name isn’t Mentis. Is it Sean?[/color]
[Mentis stops again and turns rapidly to look at the woman who now has a knowing look on her face like she knew he was lying.]
Non Compos Mentis: How do you know that?
Woman: I know many tings. Take a seet ma chile’.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: On the floor, are you crazy?
Woman: No, but yoo are, and someting tells me yoo have done it before, for quite some time.[/color]
[Mentis walks over to the woman and clears some space with his feet on the floor and sits down reluctantly.]
Woman: Yoo should know that ma name is Jasmine, Jasmine Cantrell. Now yoo knows ma name too. And yoo are Sean Rhodes.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: How do you know that?
Jasmine Cantrell: I told yoo, I know many tings. I know that yoo lived on the streets for years, I know that yoo were in a crazy home for a good time too. I also know that yoos troubled by some tings at the moment. [/color]
Non Compos Mentis: I’m troubled by a lot of things at the moment.
Jasmine Cantrell: Like what?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: You don’t know?
Jasmine Cantrell: I said I know many tings, not ederyting.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: OK, well, firstly you should know that I’m a wrestler, a professional wrestler. There’s this man, called Al Laiman. He’s a righteous son of a bitch who says all the time about how he has respect for people and the fans who chant for him every night. He is a manager, or was a manager, I managed to pull him out of retirement and into a match. The thing is, his reasons for becoming a manager. He claims he did it because he wanted to give something back to the industry but I don’t see why that would hake a difference. He is only twenty six years old and he has won multiple world titles. Why did he cut his career short? He was considered a legend already and threw away a chance of becoming the most revered and famed wrestler of history. He was on track to become the biggest superstar is the industries history. And yet he left it all behind to become a manager. Who does that? Why would you do it unless you had a massive injury or you lost your motivation or couldn’t cut it in the wrestling industry? He calls me ignorant because I don’t believe that anyone could do what he has done. Because I believe that success overrides every other human emotion.
I face him this week, in one of the most extreme matches that has ever been invented, the Hardcore Hell match. He’s been in it before and I haven’t, he knows how to compete in it, hell he’s won one of them.
Jasmine Cantrell: There is someting else though, isn’t there? A voice, another person in yoos head. Right?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Yes, and no. There are only a couple of people who know about this, but I am the voice. I am the other person.
Jasmine Cantrell: And why are yoo in there. Why have yoo gone inside this man’s body?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Because he is a failure, he was trying to be the exact same person Al Laiman is. He wanted to be everything the fans wanted and it cost him a shot at he World Title. He was never going to get to the top of the industry, he was weak and he had delusions of being in a world where anyone gives a crap about anyone else.
Jasmine Cantrell: Did it not occur to yoo that he did not value success?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Everyone values success.
Jasmine Cantrell: Maybe he just wanted to please his fans.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Not after all the suffering he had been put through in his life. He only wanted to achieve for himself.
Jasmine Cantrell: It is tings like yoo that make this world evil. Yoo contrive to make this world a place where ederyone only looks out for demselves. Yoo are creating a world where no-one tinks about anyone else. Yoo are ripping out the soul of the planet, the soul of mankind. It is people like yoo who have made this world what it is today, a mess of fumes and pollution and corruption made because ederyone wants to succeed.
I CURSE YOO, YOO DESERVE TO DIE, YOO SHOULD LEAVE THIS MAN ALONE. HE IS THE ONE WHO DESERVES TO LIVE. I CURSE YOO FOR THE PAIN YOU HAS INFLICTED ON HIM, A DECENT PERSON. LET THE GODS TAKE YOO FROM YOUR POWER OF THIS PERSON!!![/color]
[Mentis stands up and staggers backwards from this onslaught of sorcery and cursing and looks confused and angered.]
Non Compos Mentis: YOUR CRAZY!!!
[With this comment, Mentis stumbles backwards towards the exit of the alley, looking constantly at the old woman who is still cursing at him in her strong Caribbean tongue. Mentis disappears around the edge of the alley and walks off down the sidewalk as she finally stops cursing at the voice inside the body.]
They live in a meritocracy where effort means nothing but results mean everything. No-one cares if you had to work a 60 hour week to pay for your food and rent, everyone cares in you worked 5 minutes to buy a Ferrari. A meritocracy based on money and wealth. In times gone by it was a status symbol to wear a suit, no matter who tailored it, now these people refuse to socialise with anyone who wears less than Armani.
We look around the streets to see hundreds of people dining on the symbols of their capitalist leaders. They walk around eating from McDonald’s branded polystyrene boxes, carrying numerous bags marked with Gucci, Nike, Adidas and K-Swiss, holding out the keys to their new sparkling BMW sitting in the street. These people live on the fact that they have won the social lottery and are living the dream because of it.
We look around further see a complete contrast to the high rise living of these people. Down an alleyway that leads between two of these brand hotspots, we see movement behind an inanimate dumpster, the legs of a person stretching out into the alley, shaking off the effects of a long night on the streets. Whilst this person lives in desolate solitude the rest of these people walk around in their plush suits and designer sports cars.
The sun beats down onto the dry asphalt like it is trying to beat it into submission, to interrogate it and crack it with its intensity. The heat ripples through the air as if it is materialising into something right there, making its presence known in any way. Yet these minions of the capitalist world walk around unwilling to break into a sweat as they would break their own image. They strive forward, trying to keep their dignity by holding back the natural urges of the human body, whilst the homeless person sits unworried about their dignity and image and cooling themselves with their sweet sweat.
We look down the street again to see a familiar sight. Walking down the sidewalk, wearing black jeans and a plain black t-shirt but neglecting the black denim jacket for the heat, Non Compos Mentis. He is carrying a McDonalds branded polystyrene box that contains a ‘big-mac’. Everyone around him stares in disbelief as if Mentis is some otherworldly being that has just crash landed on earth. The reality is that he is not wearing their Pinstripe suits and he is not carrying any Gucci labelled bags. They look on at him as if he has committed some hateful crime by going against the proscribed goals that their society has provided.
Mentis then walks past the alley but looks down it at the same point and sees the legs stretching out from behind the dumpster. Mentis stops immediately and looks down at the burger he is holding in his hands. Mentis then turns and walks up the alley to meet the homeless person sitting behind the trash container. He reaches it and looks around the edge to see a short and relatively large built Afro-Carribean woman with pitch black hair put back into dreadlocks and attached into a ponytail. She appears to be reasonably old as well, about 50, maybe 60. She is wearing tattered clothes that look to be extremely dirty and worn because of the lack of a replacement.
Mentis bends down to the woman and passes her the burger which she takes willingly with a large smile across her face.]
Woman: Thank yoo mista.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: No problem, he wouldn’t stop annoying me if I would have given you it.
Woman: He?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Doesn’t matter, enjoy the burger.
[Mentis goes to walk away down the alley.]
Woman: Wait, my chile’, what’s yoos name?[/color]
[Mentis stops in his tracks and turns around to look at the woman who stares back at him in an interested fashion.]
Non Compos Mentis: My name? Mentis, I have to go.
[Once again Mentis moves to walk away back into the mass of suit wearing materialists.]
Woman: Yoos name isn’t Mentis. Is it Sean?[/color]
[Mentis stops again and turns rapidly to look at the woman who now has a knowing look on her face like she knew he was lying.]
Non Compos Mentis: How do you know that?
Woman: I know many tings. Take a seet ma chile’.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: On the floor, are you crazy?
Woman: No, but yoo are, and someting tells me yoo have done it before, for quite some time.[/color]
[Mentis walks over to the woman and clears some space with his feet on the floor and sits down reluctantly.]
Woman: Yoo should know that ma name is Jasmine, Jasmine Cantrell. Now yoo knows ma name too. And yoo are Sean Rhodes.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: How do you know that?
Jasmine Cantrell: I told yoo, I know many tings. I know that yoo lived on the streets for years, I know that yoo were in a crazy home for a good time too. I also know that yoos troubled by some tings at the moment. [/color]
Non Compos Mentis: I’m troubled by a lot of things at the moment.
Jasmine Cantrell: Like what?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: You don’t know?
Jasmine Cantrell: I said I know many tings, not ederyting.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: OK, well, firstly you should know that I’m a wrestler, a professional wrestler. There’s this man, called Al Laiman. He’s a righteous son of a bitch who says all the time about how he has respect for people and the fans who chant for him every night. He is a manager, or was a manager, I managed to pull him out of retirement and into a match. The thing is, his reasons for becoming a manager. He claims he did it because he wanted to give something back to the industry but I don’t see why that would hake a difference. He is only twenty six years old and he has won multiple world titles. Why did he cut his career short? He was considered a legend already and threw away a chance of becoming the most revered and famed wrestler of history. He was on track to become the biggest superstar is the industries history. And yet he left it all behind to become a manager. Who does that? Why would you do it unless you had a massive injury or you lost your motivation or couldn’t cut it in the wrestling industry? He calls me ignorant because I don’t believe that anyone could do what he has done. Because I believe that success overrides every other human emotion.
I face him this week, in one of the most extreme matches that has ever been invented, the Hardcore Hell match. He’s been in it before and I haven’t, he knows how to compete in it, hell he’s won one of them.
Jasmine Cantrell: There is someting else though, isn’t there? A voice, another person in yoos head. Right?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Yes, and no. There are only a couple of people who know about this, but I am the voice. I am the other person.
Jasmine Cantrell: And why are yoo in there. Why have yoo gone inside this man’s body?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Because he is a failure, he was trying to be the exact same person Al Laiman is. He wanted to be everything the fans wanted and it cost him a shot at he World Title. He was never going to get to the top of the industry, he was weak and he had delusions of being in a world where anyone gives a crap about anyone else.
Jasmine Cantrell: Did it not occur to yoo that he did not value success?[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Everyone values success.
Jasmine Cantrell: Maybe he just wanted to please his fans.[/color]
Non Compos Mentis: Not after all the suffering he had been put through in his life. He only wanted to achieve for himself.
Jasmine Cantrell: It is tings like yoo that make this world evil. Yoo contrive to make this world a place where ederyone only looks out for demselves. Yoo are creating a world where no-one tinks about anyone else. Yoo are ripping out the soul of the planet, the soul of mankind. It is people like yoo who have made this world what it is today, a mess of fumes and pollution and corruption made because ederyone wants to succeed.
I CURSE YOO, YOO DESERVE TO DIE, YOO SHOULD LEAVE THIS MAN ALONE. HE IS THE ONE WHO DESERVES TO LIVE. I CURSE YOO FOR THE PAIN YOU HAS INFLICTED ON HIM, A DECENT PERSON. LET THE GODS TAKE YOO FROM YOUR POWER OF THIS PERSON!!![/color]
[Mentis stands up and staggers backwards from this onslaught of sorcery and cursing and looks confused and angered.]
Non Compos Mentis: YOUR CRAZY!!!
[With this comment, Mentis stumbles backwards towards the exit of the alley, looking constantly at the old woman who is still cursing at him in her strong Caribbean tongue. Mentis disappears around the edge of the alley and walks off down the sidewalk as she finally stops cursing at the voice inside the body.]
